#Also that neckline is gonna kill me

[andyoullhearitagain]

Top Ten Least Bad Outfits in TNG

I'm gonna be honest and say that the non-uniform outfits in TNG are not my favorite costume design in the world, but there are some looks that stick with me:

10. That Girl Who Kissed Data That One Time's Outfit:

I can never decide if I like this look or I think it's ugly, but I love the pants and tall boots combo. Her blouse is bad and the bouclé jacket is both too heavy and too fussy for this outfit, but I love the belt and suspenders combo, and the chevron embossing on the suspenders. This costume and all the others except #9 is a Robert Blackman design.

9. This Jumpsuit On That Girl From "The Dauphin":

This is the only William Ware Theiss design on this list. I love his TOS stuff but most of his TNG designs leave me cold 🤷‍♀️. But I love this is extremely 80s jumpsuit. Love the pretty drape, love the ruching on the sleeves, love the harem pants silhouette. Only note is that the whole bodice should be a structured corset bodice instead of the kind of odd structured panel it has now.

8. Picard's Shorty Pyjama Set:

TNG is absolutely full of the strangest pyjama choices you can imagine and Picard is no exception but I love this bold look. Would kill for this pyjama set. He also takes a work zoom wearing this one time which is insane.

7. Data's 1890's Looks But Specifically This One With The Shirtsleeves And The Blue Shirt:

The best part of "Time's Arrow" is that Data isn't a fish out of water in the 1890s, he's absolutely killing it, and I love that the only real Casual Data look we get is this one. I prefer the blue shirt to the pink because Data should really wear more blue, it's a nice contrast with yellow. Please also note his emerald watch fob, which was 0% necessary to blend in, he's just having fun with it.

6. 12 Year Old Keiko's Linen Overalls:

The paperbag waist! The bow! The little bows at the shirt cuffs! I can understand why she replicated a miniature copy of this outfit.

5. Beverly and Guinan's Dixon Hill Holodeck Costumes:

I'm counting these as one because they're essentially the same design in different color pallets but what color paletts! Bev is pulling off the very difficult pink+red+red hair and the mint green on Guinan is 🤌. I particularly love how Guinan's hat is so 1940s yet also echos the silhouette of her usual costume.

4. Deanna's Teal Dress:

Like all of you I prefer Deanna in the uniform, but this dress slays, ok? The space age asymmetrical neckline. The drop waist. The structured bodice. The slit almost all the way to the hip. And of course the matching tights and shoes CANNOT BE BEATEN. Also one time I saw a dude on a Star Trek forum call this a "ballgown" which baffles me to this day, this is clearly a slightly fancy day dress.

3. Picard's 1890s Look:

You'd think Picard would go full posh in the 1890s but instead he gives us this working-class Shakespearean director look and he 👏 looks 👏 incredible 👏. Way to mix textures, Jean-Luc.

2. Lore's Turtleneck and Giant Vest:

You and I know that Lore stole these clothes from the Pakleds because we pay a lot of attention to Star Trek costumes, but to a normal viewer Lore shows up and this is just his outfit!! It's giving, like, space-age goblincore and it's incredible. I want wear this oufit every day. I want to make a little doll Lore wearing this outfit to express my love for it. It's only not #1 because the pants are too orange and a strange weave.

Deanna's Ancient West Holodeck Outfit:

Deanna!!! The pants! The hat! The calico! She looks 10/10 hot in this outfit. For sure the superior version of this is before she gives her neckerchief to Worf (it really benefits from that cool highlight) but either way this is the best anyone's ever looked on that holodeck.

#star trek tng #star trek next gen #deanna troi #jean luc picard #data soong #beverly crusher #guinan #lore soong #keiko o'brien #tng #yelling about costume design

[webslingingslasher]

Hi Mm this is socks lmao, but could I request something with reader having a horrible day where everything goes wrong, nothing feels right, and she's tired of like carrying the world and everyone one else on her back and Peter is just the sweetest guy ever babying her and hold her while she cries? Yep that's me, but with no Peter

sowwy it took so long, i had a few requests for this and put them all in one giant pot. i also hope everyone here is feeling better ❤️

Totally broken, you just needed someone to hold you. 

It had been an awful day of an awful week of an awful month. Punch after punch, you couldn’t take anymore. Holding yourself the entire walk to the frat house, only allowing yourself to sniffle and keep a steady flow of tears, nothing too hysterical to pass in public. 

Almost tripping over a curb you choke back a sob, all you could do was manually breathe and think of the path to the house. You weren’t even sure why you wanted to go there anyways, you’d never gone to Peter before all upset and choked up. 

And knowing him, he’d hate it and send you away informing you that taking care of your crying mess wasn’t in his job description. 

Focusing on breathing, you knocked at the solid door and prayed Peter would answer, save for any of his brothers mid breakdown. But, like most of today and this week, things did not go in your favor. 

“Trouble?”

He wasn’t your boy. 

“Is Peter here?” shoddy breaths, you’re about to collapse in a sob, you shouldn’t be here. “Actually, nevermind, I’m,” you inhale sharply, tears skip down your cheeks, “I’m, um, gonna go home.” 

Spinning on your heel a warm hand closed around your wrist tugging you inside, “no, you’re not. Parker would fucking kill me if I let you leave like this.” Wiping your cheeks and trying to pull away, “he wouldn’t want to deal with me, I should…” shaking his arm off and trying to make a dash before he caught you by the hood of your jacket. 

Gagging you pull at the neckline, “what the fuck, Ethan?” 

“Parker!” He calls up the stairs, adrenaline killing your tears, trying to pull away but useless in his grip. Jerking the fabric, trying to release it from his hold, “let go, Ethan!” 

“Parker!” Wincing at the shriek in your ear, “see? He doesn’t care, I sho-” 

Your shoes squeak on the floor, holding your jacket as far as you could from your neck when Ethan dragged you across the landing of the house, fumbling into his chest to stop the tension. He was being anything but gentle, raising his fist to pound at the wall. 

“Parker! Get the fuck down here!” 

While trying your last attempt to break free, Ethan twists the hood in his hold, causing you to pause in an awkward position, if you moved you’d be choked. “Ethan, I swear to fucking god I’ll-” 

“Park-” 

Stomps on the stairs.

“Say my fucking name one more time, Keznek, I fucking dare you.” 

Like a deer in headlights, you freeze. The second Peter hits the landing his frustration was washed into concern, not even caring his brother and best friend was watching, pouting all soft. You weren't crying anymore but the evidence showed, written all over your face was a cry session.

“My baby,” feathersoft, his words scooped you up and held you. Ethan’s hand dropped the second Peter took a second step, abandoning post and taking the stairs two steps at a time. Standing in front of you, his thumbs run under your eyes, “why’s my girl so sad, hm?” 

Suddenly, that lump in your throat you’ve been swallowing won’t stay down. Blinking fast trying to stop tears, which fails useless as your bottom lip trembles and he’s being so soft and he’s never been this comforting before. A sob escapes, the dam breaks. 

Peter’s never seen you cry before, you’ve called him once before while upset and he thought that hurt him. Watching you cry and desperate for air makes him break, he’s never had a girl come to him so broken. He doesn’t even know what to do or say, “give me a cuddle, c’mon, I know how happy that makes you!” 

Instantly you’re wound around him, exhaling shaky breaths in his chest while he scratches slowly at your back. Tears bleed through his shirt but he doesn’t say a word, he thinks he might be making it worse because you’re getting worse. 

Racking breaths made him push you away, he was genuinely scared you’d pass out. 

“Okay, c’mon. Take a breath and follow me, okay?” Choking as you gasp, his hand holds yours tight until you reach a room off the kitchen, Peter sits on the edge of a couch and holds your hands. “Deep breath, baby.” You try to do it but fail, whimpering an apology. “I’m not asking you to stop crying, I just need you to breathe.” 

It’s weak but he takes it, “one more for me,” it’s smoother this time, rubbing at an eye to clear your vision. Gulping, you force yourself to take another deep breath, this one ceasing the tears for the moment. 

Peter pushes himself backwards to sit on the couch, patting the small spot next to him you follow the command. Your butt in the small space, legs thrown over his lap. “You almost knocked yourself out, trouble.” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood but you just feel vulnerable and sad, resting your cheek on his shoulder you sniff. Voice breaking at the words, “I’m really sad, petey.” And fuck, he hates that nickname, but the way you uttered it, like a child with a terrible confession, made him want to hold you and never let you leave. 

Hands tickle up and down your legs, “wanna tell me why?” 

Blowing a shaky breath you shug, a tear falls when you blink. 

“I mean, everything?” To Peter, it sounds like you’re holding back and he won’t stand for it, not until he knows what made his girl cry like that. 

“I’m here for you to unload, I’m trying to take that,” he gestures to your body, “and put it here,” crumpling the tension into a ball and forcing it into his heart. 

“I failed my math test, I was fired from the campus store, Zoe and Lana are fighting and they want me to pick a side but I know they’ll get over it and then I’ll always be the asshole that chose a side, and to top it all off my sister called me and I felt like it was my job to give relationship advice cause,” you give a dry laugh, “obviously, I’m in the right position to tell people about their shit boyfriend.” 

A shit sandwich, you were right. Everything was wrong. 

“What can I do for you?” 

Because he feels helpless, but he’s done more than enough already. 

“Just… hold me.” 

“I can do that.” 

And he does, even a little longer after you said you were finally okay. 

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #my writing #frat!peter

[squerlly]

Hi could you write for Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty and Alastor reacting to a Gen Z reader who knows how to dance really well to swing music from the 1920s/30s? Maybe Charlie hosts a party at the hotel and swing music is playing and the reader goes up to dance, and the hazbins don’t think too much of it since they think the reader is going to do some modern dance, and they’re all surprised by the reader busting out the Charleston and doing it perfectly.

this took a lot of research and a whole video BUT ask and you shall receive!!! (I deleted this write so many times by accident *cries*) also you didn't specify the readers gender so I just made the reader female.

-SFW- (f!reader)

charlie, vaggie, alastor, angel, husk, niffty

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie had recently told you about a party she was throwing to get more patrons to join the hotel and asked if you were going. happy to attend you bought a burgundy red cocktail dress with an off the shoulder neckline paired with black flats the day before. as the date of the party arrived you were rushing downstairs to catch up with the rest seeing people already swarming the snack table and bar as you head over were Charlie and vaggie were talking, hearing Charlie talk excitedly to vaggie about the amount of guests. "calm down hun" vaggie said putting her hand on charlies shoulder before spotting you "hi y/n-" "y/n!!!" Charlie said squealing as she gave you a bear hug, "Charlie your crushing me" "sorry, you look amazing!!!!" "thank you Charlie", were are the others?" "well husks at the bar, and angels being......well angel" she says pointing at angel who was flirting with another demon near the bar "alastors Satan knows were and nifftys out killing bugs-" "did somebody call my name?" a familiar radio voice called from behind you "hey Al" "hello my dear might I say you look wonderful" "thanks AL I tried not to overdress" "nonsense dear you dressed perfect for such occasion" smiling you walk over to were angel was flirting with the demon "hey babes lookin good" "thanks angel you look good as always" "of course I do, gotta look good for any extra cash if you know what I mean" angel says as he puffs up his chest fluff. rolling your eyes you suddenly hear music playing from the 1920s. you ask angel to dance but he declines "no thanks babes, but you go ahead if ya want" angel said before he walks over to the bar as you walk to the dance floor, as angel askes husk for a drink husk talks "your gonna let her make a fool of herself?" "shell be fineee, loosen up a bit would ya husky and pour me a drink while your at it" angel watches as you run up to the dance floor with the small few demons dancing, swaying to the rhythm of the music you sway your hands to match your feet, twisting a twirling with every beat of the music. as angel grabs another sip of his drink he quickly spits it out as he watched you dance "wha- were did she learn that!" "well ill be dammed" husk chuckles as he cleans another glass watching you dance, your lively energy being almost infectious as you bring more people on the dance floor. seeing all of the commotion vaggie looks seeing you dance "is that-" "y/n!!!!!?" Charlie says as her jaw drops, alastor wondering what's happening turns to see you dancing with the other demon "my I would have never guessed our dear y/n would know how to dance to such music" he says adjusting his monocle "it almost warms my cold heart to see" "ohh what's going on!" alastor looks down to see niffty looking around, "ooo that looks funn" she says before running up to you as you grab her hands to join you, twisting and twirling her making her giggle. back at the bar angel finishes his last glass "ya know husky that actually looks fun, wanna dance~" "I don't dance" "aww c'mon husky dance with me" "no!" "your loss" angel says before joining you. back with Charlie and vaggie, Charlie stands exited "lets join them vaggie!!!" she says dragging vaggie to the dance floor "slow down hun!" she says stumbling as they all join in to dance. alastors sitting and watching from afar with his classic toothy smile, almost genuine as he sees you all enjoying yourselves. alastors talking to husk says "good to know some people can still be lively in the underworld hmm old friend" "yeah whatever" husk growls as he secretly enjoys watching everyone have fun.

I cant thank you guys enough for all of these lovely requests I cant wait to finish them all, this one was so fun to make, I hope you all enjoyed this request!!!

-squerlly

#alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor x reader

[natashaslittlegirl]

Off cameras - EOxSJ

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Summary: Does anyone really know the relationship this two actress have?

Scarlett Johansson x Elizabeth Olsen

Smut, bottom!Scarlett, top!Elizabeth, strap on (e to s), choking (e to s), orgasm denial, oral sex(strap on), dirty talk, praise and degrading kink, spanking (e to s), CUFFS USE, hair pulling, pussy slapping.

Words Count: 1800+

Wattpad Masterlist Scarlett Johansson's Masterlist Elizabeth Olsen's Masterlist

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Flashes everywhere on the red carpet, the Infinity War premiere is a success. Elizabeth was dressed in a beautiful, shimmering dark green dress, with a revealing neckline and cut over the right thigh and her straight brunette hair with some blonde strands unbound.

She was stunning, the flashes loved her, with her poses and her brilliant smile, she stole all the public's attention.

Then Scarlett came behind her, wearing a sleeveless, knee length cream shimmery dress also with a slit on the right thigh and her blonde hair with some waves touching her shoulders.

Both posed at each end of the carpet, until they met to take photos together, both exploded the social media seconds after the photos were published. Heading inside they were able to greet each other properly.

"Good night, Liz." Scarlett said as she leaned over to leave a kiss on her cheek.

"Good night, Scar, you look so pretty in that dress." The older one blushed at her compliment, thanking her to then whisper in her ear.

"It'll look prettier when you'll take it off." now the young was blushing.

Just a few people knew about the really relationship that they both have, the relationship off cameras. Already sitting in their respective seats, at different tables, they tried to make their looks as discreet as possible.

An hour had already passed and after some exchange of messages the two would meet in the bathroom in a few minutes. They couldn't last that long without each other.

Scarlett was already there, making sure no one else entered but her lover, Elizabeth.

Who knocked twice to let her know that she was there, entering and smashing her against the door, initiating a passionate kiss, for having missed her lips for so long.

Not so much, since they'd both been together all day, but it still felt like a long time. "God, I missed your kisses so much." Elizabeth groans in her lips.

"Me too, baby." Scar started to walk back, getting the two into one of the bathroom cubicles. "This fucking dress," she said angrily that she couldn't touch her girlfriend properly.

"I though that you like it." Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yes, but I want to touch you now." Scarlett was leaving wet kisses on her neck, carefully to not leave marks though.

"Just wait till we get home, darling." that made the older women groan in protest, she wanted her now.

"But, it's a lot of time till that!" she pouted.

"Come on, it's just a few more hours." Elizabeth gave her one more kiss to get out and fix their dresses.

They walked casually to their tables again, exchanging a few more messages for the next hours, until the time to go home came. Both in different cars went to Elizabeth's house, where they're currently living together.

The younger arrived first, quickly taking off her clothes as soon as she walked through the door, leaving her only with a lace lingerie of the same color as her dress.

Scarlett had her own key, so when she arrived, she entered and was surprised not to see her girlfriend waiting for her, shouting her name and without hearing an answer, she ran through the house in search of her, finally to find her in the room, sitting on the bed waiting for her almost naked.

"Oh my god, sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days." Scar said smirking at the sight of her girlfriend.

"Not today, babe." Elizabeth grinned and took the older women's hand, pulling her closer, "Finally, all for me."

Scarlett took her hands to her side, for Elizabeth to put down the zipper of her dress, letting it fall to the floor without caring the thousands of dollars that it cost. Elizabeth choked with her own breath at the revealing of the naked body of her girlfriend.

"You're such a dirty girl, my love, you didn't wear nothing under that dress all night?" She was bitting her lip, wanting to devour her.

"Well.." She tilted her head smiling, Lizzie's hands went to her waist, pulling her to straddle her lap, making her moan as her core crashed with her thighs.

"What a slut I have here, mhm," a spank resounded in the bedroom followed by a loud moan falling from Scarlett's mouth.

"Yes, Mommy." Elizabeth loved the way her girlfriend could look so intimidating and authoritative to the rest and at the same time was so submissive to her.

"Dirty girls get punishment," Scar nodded, lifting her body up to then lay on Lizzie's lap "Good girl."

The first and the second slap came soft, the third and fourth stung a bit and from the fifth to the tenth left her with tears rolling down her cheeks, ruining her perfect makeup.

"You did so good, baby, so so good, now it's time for your reward." Scarlett got up, nodding and waiting for her next command, "Go get the cuffs, you know what's next."

Elizabeth smirked as she stood up to follow her to their walk-in closet, taking out the drawer her purple strap on.

The older women hurriedly lay on her stomach on the bed, with her arms on her back and the cuffs to one side, her head buried in the pillows, little strands of her blonde hair were spreading on her face.

The brunette sat on the back of her thighs, taking her wrists to cuffed them, pulling the little chain that connect them to make sure she doesn't let go. She leaned over, taking the blonde hair of her face to leave a kiss on her cheek as Scarlett shiver at the feeling of the strap pressing her back.

"You deserve a good fuck for being so beautiful and patient all night, baby, and I'm gonna give it to you." she could only moan at response.

Scarlett tried to rub her thighs but Lizzie's weight on top of her stopped it, she could feel the wetness dripping onto the sheets already.

"Mhm not so patient now, aren't you?" The brunette giggle as she moved to the side to grab her girlfriend's hips, now with her ass up, she positioned behind her. "I love how desperate you are for me."

Elizabeth grabbed the toy and hit Scarlett's dripping pussy, stealing her a moan at surprised. She run the tip of the strap between her folds, gathering all her wetness to get it ready for her.

She pressed it to her clit, making Scarlett's hips rock back, she teased her for a long minute, that looked like eternity for the blonde.

"Please, Lizzie," she breate out.

"Uh oh, you're not gonna call me that now, darling." Elizabeth slapped her pussy again.

"Mommy, please I need you." Scarlett managed to move her head a little over her shoulder to look at the brunette with pleading eyes.

"So pretty, always desperate for Mommy to fuck you," the tip of the strap was now on her entrance, teasing her tight hole "such a little slut for Mommy's dick, aren't you, babygirl?"

"Yes, please Mommy!"

Elizabeth thrust the toy inside her, to slow for her liking, the truth was Lizzie was enjoying the view of the the red handprints marks on Scarlett's ass, how her pussy was dripping, her thighs sticky because her wetness, her hands cuffed behind her back and her face blushed looking at her with her part lips, leaving little whimpers until the entire toy was inside her.

She start at slow yet hard pace, taking almost all the length out to then thrust hard until their thighs crashed against Scarlett's. The blonde tried to rock her hips back but Elizabeth's hands stopped her, grabbing her hips.

"Stay still or I won't fuck you at all, darling."

"Go faster, then." she moaned.

"I'm gonna fuck you my way not yours." she thrust her hard.

"Don't be gentle with me, Olsen, don't be a pus-" She couldn't even finish when Elizabeth grabbed her neck and began to thrust her fast and hard, with her front pressed to her back, the toy was all inside.

"Oh you really thought that you could say something like that to me without consequences?" the grip on her neck tightened, making the blonde choke with her moans "you're such a brat, Scarlett, you're gonna regret this." Elizabeth was fucking her senseless, almost dumb that she couldn't even think at this point.

"Fuck." she groan.

"Bratty and you still have the guts to curse now?" Elizabeth let go her grip as she stood up and took the toy off her, "Kneel, now!"

Scarlett did as she told her, not wanting to pissed her off more, with her brain dizzy and her hands on her back, it was a little difficult but she managed to turn around to face her girlfriend, who was bitting her inner cheek looking at her angrily, she was fucked up.

"Liz-" Elizabeth grab her hair in ponytail and pull her head down.

"Shut up, you're not gonna speak anymore, understood?" the blonde nodded "Good, now you're gonna use that pretty little mouth you have to suck my dick, cause I'm gonna fuck that mouth until you can't even talk."

She pushed Scarlett's head to the toy, that was grabbed by her other hand, the blonde began to suck the strap, tasting herself. Elizabeth poke her head making the toy going deeper as her hips rock forward thrusting until Scarlett gag.

"God I wish I could feel you right now." she groaned, feeling the base of the strap rub her clit, she was so worked up that she was about to cum in any moment.

Her thrust were hard and deep, making Scarlett gag at each pushed.

"You sound so good, baby, Mommy is so close." Elizabeth warn her making her look up, tears rolling down her red cheeks and her saliva dripping to her chin, "you're so pretty, Scarlett, it's bad that were such a bad girl because I was about to fuck you until you were without even a drop of cum."

The blonde shut her eyes, she wanted to cum, she wanted to be touched and fucked and sucked, the ache between her thighs was nearly unbearable, regretting messing it up.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Elizabeth moaned as she cum, taking the toy off Scarlett's mouth, finally for her to take a deep breath, coughing as the air finally passed by her throat, it's gonna be sore tomorrow.

The brunette was panting for air still with her eyes closed, she unclipped the toy of her hips, throwing it to the floor and laying in her side of the bed.

"Are you gonna sleep?" Scarlett asked as she lay by her side.

"Yeah?"

"What about me?" She opened her eyes wide at the sight of Elizabeth almost sleep.

"I told you before, bad girls don't get to cum, now come here, in the morning I'll give you a good fuck."

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen smut #wanda maximoff smut #black widow #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff fic #lizzie olsen #natasha marvel #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson #scarlett x Elizabeth #johansson x olsen

[redahlia-writes]

crush with eyeliner. | eddie munson

Summary: applying eyeliner to eddie turns out to be a real challenge

Words: 900ca

Content: f!reader, teasing, suggestive language, flirting, fluff, eddie with eyeliner is a warning in and of itself tbh, canon? i don’t know her

Author’s note: slightly inspired by this lovely fanart (chrissy x eddie), except i just changed it to the singer of corroded coffins, this was written in like 15 minutes with no editing so have mercy

also on AO3  - masterlist

“Munson, I’m gonna need you to stop squirming.”

Had you known joining the band would cause you so much trouble, you would’ve stuck to the school choir and waited to be out of Hawkins. Now you were stuck with these morons singing in the Corroded Coffins, which you adored, except when they asked a favor from you.

Like in this moment - straddling on Eddie’s thighs on a chair that creaked worryingly under your weights combined, his hair tingling your wrists as you held his face with one hand and tried to apply eyeliner around his eyes.

You went in again when he stopped moving, brow slightly knitted in concentration, and just as you reached the tip of the brush to his eyelids he moved back, shifting underneath you once again. With a frustrated sigh, you let your hands fall to your thighs.

“Seriously, you’re acting like a child,” you huffed, glancing down at your uncovered legs, at his hands resting on your knees. “Should I remind you you asked me to do this?” “Yes, because it looks good on you,” he retorted, matching your annoyance as he looked up at you. “But that thing coming near my eye is terrifying.”

“It won’t kill you,” you reassured, mockingly, lifting one hand back up.

You placed it behind his head, pillowing it as he tilted his chin slightly up, and took a deep breath in before moving the eyeliner up towards his face. He shifted a little, then gripped your thighs just slightly underneath the edge of your shorts, lips pressed in a tight line.

When the tip of the brush touched his eyelid he tried to move back, face scrunching up in a grimace, but you tightened your hand in a fist behind his head, tugging on his hair - he groaned in response, eyes opening to look straight up at you.

“Stop acting like a baby or we’ll never get on stage,” you threatened, voice lowered.

Eddie’s eyes flickered across your face as his lips parted, the lingering smell of cigarette on his lips brushing your skin as he exhaled then ran the tip of his tongue between his lips, a delicate shade of pink coloring his face as he met your gaze once more.

“Have you always been this bossy, babe?” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Yes,” you responded without missing a beat, keeping your hand behind his head and waiting a beat longer before reaching down again. “You like it though,” you added, a grin clearly in your words.

Eddie chuckled, his nose scrunching up - still, you managed to paint your black line over his eyelid. It smudged a bit at the corner of his eye when he squeezed it tighter, and with the tip of your ring finger you smudged it underneath his bottom lashes.

“I do,” he admitted, the tip of his finger brushing underneath the hem of your shorts - his cold rings kissed your skin, making you lock your legs a little tighter around him. “Is it done?”

“Other eye,” you announced, pushing yourself a little closer. The chair creaked again, and Eddie looked up at you.

“I just have one question,” his hands moved, tracing the curve of your hips from over the denim, then up to your sides, eyes flickering down to the neckline of your shirt - a raggedly cut shirt tucked inside your pants, the sleeve holes low enough to show part of your ribcage and the band of your bra.

“What?” his thumb brushed the exposed skin of your sides, and unconsciously you arched your back towards him. A little grin spread on his lips after he wet them again, eyes moving back up to your face.

“Is this a preview of what might happen later on?” he moved his hands underneath your shirt, ripping the sleeves a little further as his thumb followed the shape of the bra, right over the edge of the band. “Say, after the concert?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you rested your arm over his shoulder, leaning in a little bit - he straightened his back slightly, as if trying to chase you, but stalled as his gaze shifted down towards your grin.

“In your dreams, Munson,” you retorted, and a mocking, theatrical gasp left his lips. “How’d you know?” he asked, eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Stay still,” you warned, moving to finish applying the eyeliner around his eyes.

This time, his hands splayed over your ribs, Eddie obliged more easily, only once trying to move out of your way - and causing a half-wing pulling down from the corner of his eye. You smudged it with the tip of your finger again, making it more or less similar to the other, and shifted back once you were done.

“So? How do I look?” one of his hands left you, reaching up to flick his hair back in a show of vanity as he batted his eyes. “Hot enough to tempt you?” he added, pushing his other hand behind your back, fingers pressed gently against your spine.

“Eh, I’ve seen better,” you said with a shrug, and the unabashed laughter that left him made the chair creak wildly - you gripped his shoulders as it wobbled underneath you, then leaned closer. “You look great, Munson. I’m sure you won’t be going home alone tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” he grinned, and tilted his head to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t help the little smile that accompanied your eye roll, even as his hand traveled across your skin, warm, calloused palm and cold rings tracing lines over your back.

“Whatever the hell it is the two of you are doing in there, break it up and put your clothes back on!” Gareth yelled from behind the closed door. “We’re going on stage in five.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x oc #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader

[bits-and-babs]

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐏 — 𝐏𝐎𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

-> OCT. 16 : LEATHER

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. Heavy petting, beginnings of fingering at the end of the fic

WC: 1023

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

The strain of pulling the wrench back in order to tighten the screw of the X-Wing engine was working you up in a sweat, gritting your teeth and yanking back the mechanism with all your might. While the sun was out on D'Qar and you had been working hard to finish the engine for this evening, these weren’t the only reasons your forehead was damp with sweat.

Beyond fed up with working overtime in order to get oil stains out of your orange flight suit, you had invested in a leather, long sleeved jumpsuit in order to get through your laundry without the workout of scrubbing the black, viscous substance from the bright cotton of your uniform.

Sure, the suit was a little tight, clinging to your curves and showing off your figure a little more than you would like, but it did exactly what you needed it to, the oil slipping off the bantha leather with ease and offering you peace of mind. It also had a zip running from the top of the neckline down your sternum to your abdomen in order for you to get out of it without smearing the thick grease across your clean skin.

Finally hearing the clunk of the bolt settling in place, you leaned back on your heels with a relieved sigh, wiping your sweaty forehead on the back of your hand. Your satisfaction, however, is short lived, killed prematurely by the sudden sound of a wolf-whistle which could only have come from one person on this whole damn base.

“Stars, Gold-5. Don’t you look good,” Poe Dameron, Black Squadron leader, leans against the carcass of your X-Wing with a smirk plastered across his face. The kind that’s for charming the ladies that fell at his feet almost every morning. You, for one, were not one of them… So you continuously attempted to convince yourself.

“Black Leader,” you respond, giving only a passing glance before resuming with your work. You wanted to test fly it tonight to ensure that it ran smoothly. Perhaps then you’d get a good night's sleep.

“You gonna give me a little more than that?” He asks, his tone softening slightly as he looks you over. His teeth are sinking into the flesh of his lower lip, fingertips rubbing at the bristles of his stubble and making that delicious scratching noise.

“What could I possibly give you?” You ask, keeping your tone clipped as you swap the wrench for a hammer.

“Well, a look under that suit for one,” he admits, eyes still running up and down the length of your body. While you certainly didn’t fall at his feet, you didn’t necessarily hate the way his eyes were glued to your figure right now.

“I’m not wearing anything under it,” you admit nonchalantly, and the Black Squadron leader nearly chokes on the air he inhales into his lungs, clearly not having expected that answer. His pupils are as wide as a black hole when he looks at you, just sucking in the sight of your curves as if trying to erase the leather from your skin.

“I–… Isn’t that an issue with health and safety?” He pushes, his confidence rocked by your equally unbothered attitude.

“I don’t know, perhaps it is. People too busy staring and not watching where they’re stepping,” you shrug, laying your tool down. It’s fun, rocking him like this. The usually suave, playful Poe Dameron struggling to even string a sentence together as you approach him.

He nods dumbly, eyes flicking between your tits and face, forming his mouth around words that simply won’t leave his throat.

“Here,” you muse, failing to maintain your hard-line stoicism and choosing instead to take up the zip to the suit between your forefinger and thumb. Poe groans out weakly, watching as the zipper slips down your chest and further down your sternum, exposing your breasts to him.

“Please- Stars, Please let me kiss them, just once,” he begs you, even as you reach up to card your fingers through his chocolate curls. You liked him like this, likes knowing only you could reduce Black Squadron Leader “Flyboy” Poe Dameron to a pleading mess.

Not offering verbal confirmation, you simply push Poe’s face into your cleavage. He gratefully accepts your kind offer, kissing at the swell of your breast.

The scrape of his beard is heavenly against your skin, and you find yourself tilting your head back as Poe presses heavy, wet kisses against you. He licks at them, sucks a little at whatever he can find.

“Fuck- I wanna leave a mark,” he mumbled against your skin, almost nuzzling into it. His arms are wrapped around your waist now, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “Want them all to know you’re mine.”

“I don’t just go around showing every man, woman and Bantha my tits, Dameron- ow!” You gasp, sarcastic rambling cut off by a particularly sharp nip of his teeth into the underside of your boob. You’re certain it’s blooming a bruise already by the time Poe pulls away, your skin caught between his teeth as he does.

“Driving me mad in this-“ he groans out, palms squeezing at your ass through the leather of the suit, “You look so fucking good in it. Wanna have a poster of you up in my bunk like a pinup model.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his lusty tirade, shaking your head as he soothes the bruise he created my lathing his tongue over the sore area.

“What, have me pouring spotchka all down my front too?” You tease, but Poe seems to love the idea of it, nodding his head over and over again.

“I’d pay good credits for that-“

“I bet you would,” you smirk. But your grin is wiped from your face as Poe takes ahold of the zip and pulls it even lower, down past your navel before slipping his hand between the fabric, his breath fanning hot against your chest.

“I’ll earn it,” he whispers, fingertips brushing against your clit as you grip at his hair tight, gasping at the sensation that settles through your abdomen.

END

@in-for-a-pennyx @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @markywithissues @welcometostayingawake @inklore @foxilayde @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x y/n #Star Wars fic #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

What a party 

Summary: This is a drabble maybe 2-3 months into Y/n and the Witches "relationship". You're going to a party! How exciting! Too bad you had to kill someone, ah well.

This was written in like an hour so any mistakes or stuff like that are my own fault but eh what are you gonna do?

Also the actual next chapter of Evil's newest fangirl will introduce the witch's to Y/n's family so that should be fun!

Words: 1,800

Warnings: blood, talk of sex, swearing 18+ minors DNI

"Holy shit" Wanda let out a breath as you walked through the kitchen "ty takaya chertovski krasivaya" you had no idea what she was saying but the way her eyes wondered and her breathe hitched you knew it was probably something good. You thought back to two hours ago

Scarlet had laid out a dress for you when you got out of the shower, a note reading

We have an exciting evening planned detka, wear this and Wanda wont be able to keep her hands to herself

When you opened the nice little box the dress inside shocked you, you've never worn a dress this beautiful, it was red, backless and had a very high leg slit when you put it on, the plunging neckline was a little odd but you could get used to it.

Coming back to the present time Wanda still had her eyes on you and had moved closer "daddy really outdid herself with this one didn't she?" Wanda's words made you blush "aw look, you're the same colour as your dress"

Scarlet was stood watching the sickly interaction "ugh are you two killers or simps?" She laughed to herself walking over and kissing Wanda who eyed Scarlet too wearing a black suit and a neckline so long it didn't need to be there and yet it was, her girls were gonna be the death of her.

"Why aren't you ready Mommy?" Wanda was still in her sweatpants and sports bra, not party attire. "I'll be there later sweet one, I just need to sort out a few things okay?" She kissed you on the forehead carful of your face and gave a nod to Scar who smiled and linked her arm through yours "time to go baby, do you have your things?"

You smiled wide digging through your small bag pulling out a small knife and a handgun "all ready for the party!" You twirled the handgun around your finger showing off making the girls giggle "look at our little girl showing off" Wanda couldn't resist kissing your lips smearing the lipstick you so carefully put on over your lips making a mess on purpose

"Mommyyy that took me forever!" You pulled away laughing at the dark purple stain left on Wanda's face.

"Sorry moya lyubovʹ I couldn't resist you look good enough to eat" she leaned in close to your ear "and maybe I will when we come back later"

"Is Mommy teasing you sweetheart? That's so mean" Scar lent in close behind you sandwiching you between her and Wanda, yet again your favourite position to be in "she's being bad isn't she? Mommy's being bad" you nodded and groaned into Wanda's neck focused on the feeling of Scarlet's lips kissing your exposed back

"Say it detka, say mommy's being bad" Scar said again and you obliged "Mommy's being bad" your voice was almost a whisper but the witches heard you perfectly "maybe we should show mommy what happens when she's being bad-"

Wanda pushed you back Scarlet keeping a hold of you tight "ohh I think we struck a nerve in her"

"Fuck off Scar, you couldn't dominate me for shit" she padded around the kitchen picking up some tissue coming back to wipe your lips gripping your chin between her fingertips forcing you to look into her eyes "our little princess would never dominate me would you?"

You tried shaking your head but the tight grip on your chin prevented you from doing so forcing you to speak "no Mommy I wouldn't" she smiled retrieving the lipstick from your bag and putting it on you "good girl, now go on, have some fun at the party and I'll see you there"she patted you on the cheek and you gave her a pout "but I want you to watch me kill!" You stomped your feet making the witches giggle

"Carry on like that and you'll licking the blood off of my boots not killing anyone" you lowered your head in embarrassment apologising "sorry, I'll be good"

You held onto Scarlet's arm and she kissed your cheek "come on princess lets go and enjoy ourselves

*********************************************************************

"Okay cover the entrances, they'll probably come in and mingle to try and hide"

"Wow Tony you're so clever, people coming through the entrance what a good observation" Natasha rolled her eyes scanning the partygoers looking for you and Scarlet, still pretending to be a hero, so easy to do "Nat check that section"

Steve put all his confidence in Nat and it made her laugh, poor poor Cap "sure cap!" she said and marched over to the entrance, perfect timing as you and Scarlet come through the door "wow Y/n you look stunning" the Russian kissed your cheek even when Scarlet tried pulling you away "oh Scar why wont you let me play? The videos you sent were very nice"

Videos? What videos? Did they record you? "What videos?" You pulled away from Scar's grasp who just smiled "you're so cute honey, of course we film you, Nat likes to see what she's missing out on"

"Great, my orgasm face is on film" you groaned and nat just laughed "not just your face princess, now go on get on with the killing I don't have all night, me and Maria have plans" she quickly moved away "surveying" the crowed as you and Scar made it to the buffet table "god I'm starving!" You went to pick up some posh looking sandwiches but they were slapped away by your witch "hey I wanted those"

"When we're done here I'll get us some pizza, but our target just walked in" your eyes scanned where she was looking and you saw him, the mayor of new York here to present some kind of award "why are we killing him again?" You never actually asked why they were killing him, but then again you were a little distracted by Wanda's tongue when she told you.

"Just for fun princess, we don't need a reason to do what we do" kissing you deeply you knew why Scarlet liked killing, it gave her an exhilarating high and also made her extremely horny and that was the only explanation you needed to do what she said. "Okay, where do you want me?"

Scarlet smirked "on your back with your legs on my shoulders preferably" you blushed covering your eyes "babe!"

"I mean it, and i'll have you like that later, but for now I want you to listen to me, Wanda will be here soon"

You perked up when she said that, you obviously loved both witches but there was something special about Wanda, she was the more loving one, not that Scarlet wasn't but Wanda was always cooing over you, spoiling you and giving you whatever you wanted

"Aw am I not sweet enough for you?" Okay you need to start blocking your thoughts "no Daddy you are but-"

Scarlet shushed you "Wanda's too soft with you, treating you like a fragile little thing, I like dominating you"

You laughed "I kill people with you two, mommy isn't being soft with me" Scarlet licked her lips letting out a sigh "oh princess, you have no idea-"

The building shook slightly and Scarlet grinned "she's here, go and stand over there" she pushed you towards the mayor and you took your spot next to his security while Scarlet took her place next to the other one, you spotted Nat in the crowd and she nodded towards the witch speaking to the others "guys there's sightings of them on the roof"

The avengers left to check it out but Nat stayed claiming to protect the mayor, it was almost laughable, you felt your head go woozy, Scarlet was whispering to you in your mind, it always freaks you out a little

"5 minutes and then stab to kill, Wanda will join us"

You nodded and waited, when 5 minutes hit you plunged the knife from your bag into the security's body instantly taking him down, the poison in the knife helping to take him down quickly too.

The crowd gasped and started scrambling more Nat "helping" them get out and calling the Avengers back down just as Wanda blasted through the wall wrapping the stressed out mayor in red tendrils and winking at you.

She was wearing her suit, similar to Scarlet's suit but a little brighter, she hadn't worn it for a while, well tonight was a special occasion you guessed.

Tony was the first one down and let out a sigh "do you two ever stop??"

Wanda stood behind the mayor holding his head up exposing his neck "Stark you're in no position to talk" Scarlet twisted her fingers controlling the avenger's bodies keeping them in place "so fucking easy" she laughed

"Tony you said we could survive her control" Steve tried getting out of it "obviously I didn't think too far ahead did I captain?"

Sam groaned "every time"

Wanda beckoned you over "come here princess, mommy wants you to finish him off" you quickly ran up to her holding the dagger to his throat

"I-i demand you to let me go!" He stuttered, Wanda rolling her eyes "I'm bored already detka kill him"

You obliged slicing his throat watching him fall to the floor and Scarlet coming round to you pulling you into her "looks like you wasted your time again loser heroes" the three of you quickly disappeared leaving the avengers to clean up the mess and deal with the consequences of your actions, yet again.

*******************************************************************

You finally landed back into the apartment Wanda holding you close, she knows you struggle with the whole travel thing "you okay my love?"

You nodded and turned to the other witch "where's my pizza?"

Scarlet groaned at a confused Wanda "I promised her pizza after we'd finished" she turned to you

"Daddy will go and get pizza for the spoilt baby" Scarlet left you and Wanda alone to go and get your requested food "you've got Daddy wrapped around your finger haven't you?"

You turned around in her hold kissing her and wrapping your arms around your neck "and you Mommy"

She raised her eyebrows "oh? Have you?"

"Yep! Scar says you've gone soft on me"

Wanda grinned and bit her lip "sweetheart I'm just warming you up, I can get a lot meaner on you"

You gigged "you sound so cringy" she picked you up making you gasp and walked you to the bedroom throwing you onto it "you've gotten so bratty my love, don't worry, I'll fuck the brattiness out of you and then let Daddy do the same".

God you were in a for a long night and you were so fucking excited!

#marvel #marvel au #evil's newest fangirl au #marvel drabble #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x reader x scarlet witch #the scarlet witch imagine #the scarlet witch x wanda maximoff #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #MCU #Natasha Romanoff #natasha romanov

[ellieandallthingsfuzzy]

Midnight Delusions

Summary: You hear a violent intruder in the middle of the night and take it upon yourself to protect Luke, but when he wakes, he realizes that the intruder you had killed was never real.

Warnings: Blood, panic attacks, intense descriptions of anxiety, psychosis

   Blood stained your hands and fingers as you scrubbed furiously with the already soiled sponge that did nothing to lessen this mess.  You cried uncontrollably as you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, struggling to keep your sobs at a low volume lest you wake your husband sleeping in your shared bedroom. 

When you went to wipe away the tears clouding your vision, you were even more horrified at the realization that you've just smeared more blood across your face. You pulled back in an instant, swallowing back a scream. Your hand trembled violently in front of your face. Dripping ominously. 

You scrambled to wipe as much off on your clothes as possible: you'll burn this shirt and pants the second you finish dealing with this crisis in the kitchen. 

You grabbed yet another fresh towel from the linen closet and plopped it onto the nearest puddle, soaking up as much as you could and squeezing out the excess into the sink. Your panicked breathing only intensified the longer you worked and you were racking your brain, trying to remember how you got into this mess in the first place. You scoured your own memories and cried harder when the floor only seemed to bleed more, trapping you in an endless cycle of hand mopping pools and pools of infinitely generating blood. 

A broken sob escaped your throat right before Luke approached from behind with tentative movements.

He took a second to take in his surroundings. You on your knees, crying like a banshee and surrounded by countless soaked wash cloths. The first look on his face was confusion followed immediately by concern.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asked in his signature soft voice, sliding in beside you and putting a hand on your shoulder. He squeezed lightly, which was enough to pull your attention to him but not enough to pull you out of whatever fog your mind was in. So you could only stare back with wide, guilty eyes as you retracted into yourself. 

His worry only worsened at this. 

"Sweetheart, please tell me what you're thinking right now. What are you feeling? You can talk to me, I'm always here no matter what." 

Halfway through his words, you shut your eyes tightly. Hanging on to each syllable, wanting to dive into his lap and cling to him like your very life depended on it. But you also couldn't contain the horror of such a gruesome scene, and you couldn't understand why he didn't seem to notice the ocean of red surrounding you both. So you continued to stare with wide eyes, letting out little involuntary gasps every once in a while. 

He said your name with a cautious tone, leaning closer so he could better see your face. Your horror got worse. 

"I-I-I was protecting us, p-protecting you!" You finally managed to squeak out. 

"What?" His brows came crashing together. "Sweetheart, there's no one here."

"Not anymore. I killed him!" Your voice was barely above a whisper. "I killed him because he was gonna kill you and I didn't know what else to do!" 

He shook his head slightly, searching every detail of your face and eyes. 

"You have to believe me, Luke, I'm not a monster! I-I'm…I'm not a…m-monster. I was protecting you! I was protecting you please believe me, I was protecting you!" 

You gasped and wheezed and struggled to compose sentences that made sense. Your voice got higher and more shrill with every word and you even grabbed onto the sleeve of his robe, not realizing how tight your grip was until his neckline had been tugged practically all the way down his chest. 

When you showed no signs of pulling yourself out of this rambling, Luke moved his hands to cradle your face, gently forcing you to look at him. He tucked several unruly strands of hair from your forehead and cheeks and shushed you with the soothing voice of a siren. It was a light sound, a calming 'sshhh' emanating from his lips. His nose was nearly pressed into yours as you finally started to calm your breathing. You focused on matching your breath with his, just like he'd taught you. You grabbed his wrist while several more silent tears rolled down your cheeks. 

He said your name once more before going on.

"Baby, there is no one else here. What do you think happened?" 

You frowned. 

"Wha-what are you talking about? His body is right there!" You went to point at the beaten corpse splayed out in the area between the kitchen and living area, except…

He wasn't there. 

Your eyes got wild again, immediately thinking he was still alive and stalking you. Stalking Luke. So you shot up out of his grasp, careful not to slip on the blood.

But the blood was all gone. The place was spotless. The only evidence of the scene were the soap soaked towels laid haphazardly all over the tile floor.

You froze, turning frantically every which way. You were panting again, trying to stave off the panic bubbling in your stomach. Your chest. 

Usually, Luke wasn't one to grab you roughly and without warning but you were starting to seriously scare him. He was still trying to piece together what exactly you were talking about and so far, the only thing he could gather was that you thought someone was in your hut and trying to kill him.

He spun you around to face him, making sure to keep both hands on your shoulders 

"I-I was protecting you…" 

"There's no one to protect me from. I'm safe. You're safe. My shining star, I think you may be having a flashback…" 

"I'm not!" You yelled, pulling yourself from his grasp, or trying to at least. But his hold on you was strong and he was determined to not let you lose yourself in whatever madness affected you on this night. 

"He was here, he is here and he's hunting you!" You tried to pull away as you spoke. "Let me go, please! I have to keep you safe please!" Your begging only increased when he tightened his hold so now you were stuck in his one handed grasp, desperately trying to pull away so you could chase the shadow man trying to kill your husband. 

"I have to keep you safe! LET GO!" 

Your struggling reached a fever pitch and the worry lines on his features were worsening. His hold remained unbreakable as your ranting devolved into incoherent babbling mixed with panicked sobs and begging him to let you go so you could go after that man…

Even after realizing that there was never any blood, you were still so convinced of your eminent danger. 

Luke's heart broke as you finally gave up and started crying like a newborn and refused to look at him. You tried to bury your face in your arm as he reached out with the hand that wasn't holding you. He cupped your face again. You tried to shake it away but he just moved on to stroking the side of your head instead, slowly bringing you into his chest at the same time. 

The shame came crashing down all at once. He was right. No one was here, and you were freaking out over quite literally nothing. 

But you were so sure, you were so sure! It all felt so real, the plunge of the knife into his skull, his body going limp underneath you as you straddled him. The dark relief that flooded your system followed promptly by the rising franticness when his puddle of blood seeped out and grew into a great cinnabar red lake. He bledel more than what was in his body but you were too out of it to question it.

It was so real . It felt real. But even though you didn't want to believe him, Luke was anything but a liar and he could never fake any sort of reaction. Tonight, his certainty cemented your psychological downfall. And all you could do about it was cry and cry and cry and hope he didn't stop loving you because of your apparent insanity. So you cried some more into his chest while he continued to stroke the back of your head, even slowly swaying you to and fro, almost like a mother rocking her babe. 

Soon, he started to hum despite your cries. Singing occasional lines about how it will all be okay. About how he will always keep her safe. He did this until your crying, after what felt like hours, finally died out into occasional whimpers and sniffles. You clung to his robe the entire time until your knuckles were whiter than a piece of paper. 

When he felt it was a good time for it, Luke pulled away just enough to be able to look at your face. You glanced up quickly through your lashes but had to avert your gaze. His face fell slightly but he palmed the side of your face nevertheless. His thumb rubbing ginger circles in the space between your eye and your hairline. 

"I really thought you were in danger." You rasped. 

Even though it was all a hallucination, Luke heart swelled at the same time as it broke. You thought someone very dangerous had invaded your home and your first instinct was to make sure he was safe. He: the wise and powerful Jedi knight who saved the galaxy from the dark hold of Darth Vader and the emperor by saving Darth Vader himself. The man who could take on an entire army without taking a blaster shot wound once. The man who was so in tune with the force that he was so in tune with you. It would take death itself and his mother so bring him down and even then, you were sure he'd come out of that even stronger. 

You still wanted to protect him knowing all of this. Knowing he could snap you right in half with just a grip that was a little too tight. It happened once before on accident in a moment of intimacy. He'd gotten a little too worked up and carried away and you ended up with a sprained wrist. 

That was when you realized his true strength. 

"You protected me." He said in a tender voice, eyes filled with potent love and admiration. 

Another year rolled down your eye. He wiped it off before leaning down to kiss away the rest of its salty trail. 

Finally, finally , you reciprocated his hold and grabbed the wrist that was holding you. You shut your eyes, leaning into him as his kisses peppered your whole face until he managed to coax a small smile from you. 

"There she is," he lightly beamed. "Come on, let's get you to bed." 

He started leading you away with a gentle hand on your lower back. 

"Wait, but what about-"

He shushed you again with a light voice while still leading you away. "You let me worry about that. I'll get this all cleaned up and then I'll come and hold you for the rest of the night. And even for the rest of tomorrow if you so wish." 

He held you all night, every night anyway. But it was still nice for him to say it out loud. 

You only mumbled an "okay" every so often as he talked you through him undressing you and wrapping you in his own robes, old white ones he often wore while working on his homestead back on Tattooine. What felt like a whole lifetime ago…

He wasn't super big or buff or anything, but you were a pretty small person so his robes on you almost resembled a dress than a shirt. He helped you slip on a pair of loose bed capris since he knew you hated sleeping without some sort of lower covering. Then he guided you into bed, smoothing out the pillows and everytime before taking a seat right next to you, taking another long moment to stroke your hair. 

"Luke…" your voice was so weak. So defeated. 

His chest ached at it. 

"Yes, sweetheart?"

It took you a long time to finish your thought. You were almost ashamed to even vocalize it, but he was so safe and comforting and you felt so alone in this. This craziness. This hopelessness. 

"I'm so scared…" you finally whispered. You buried your face into the mattress as you shuddered a few more times. 

This wasn't just you declaring your fear. This was your confession to your insanity and he knew it. 

He leaned down to give an intimate kiss to your head, still stroking your hair. 

"I know you are. I will always be here to hold you. I know you're afraid and I will protect you with the force and with my life. No matter what, I will always take care of you. I need you to remember that anytime you lose yourself. Remember my vow." He kissed your forehead. "I will always be with you. Death won't even do us apart." He then missed your eye, which was closed in embarrassment. 

But he felt your fear and tension slowly deflate until you could no longer fight off the much needed sleep clouding your head. 

He made sure you were out peacefully before going to pick up all the lathered towels from the kitchen room floor and mopping up the excess soap and water with fresh dry ones. The process took no more than ten or fifteen minutes and when he was done, he eagerly returned back to your side, slipping in behind you and snaking his strong arms around your stomach from behind. He gave a firm squeeze, earning a little moan from you in your sleep. 

He spent the rest of that night with his head propped on his elbow as he stared at your fragile form, his free hand continuing to rub your head for an indefinite amount of time. At some point, it was more so so comfort himself than it was you. 

He wouldn't tell you, at least not now, that he was also scared. Not of you, and of what you were capable of.

He was scared, no, he was terrified of what you may have to go through. He was terrified that you were cursed to live the rest of your life in crippling terror, always paranoid something was out to get you or him. 

He didn't want that life for you. You deserved so much better, and he hated that your own mind was driving you to madness. 

This wasn't nearly the first time you've experienced something that was never real. But this was the worst it's ever been. And he was afraid you'd never know peace again. 

That was why his resolve to stick by your side only grew stronger and stronger. You were capable, yes. You were strong, you were resilient and you were stubborn as all hell. No matter what, you always fought for the ones you loved and you always fought to understand them as well. To learn. To love. To cherish. But he feared your illness would be too much for you, and be was more than prepared to be strong and saner for the both of you until the end of time.

At some point in the night, his head dipped to rest on top of yours. Only then could he no longer contain his own cries. 

He held you tight as his own tears wreaked havoc on his system. He was silent but he shook with the grief, trying to lessen the shaking by squeezing you even more. You'd sometimes squirm slightly in your sleep but you always ended up somehow even tighter against him. 

"I will protect you no matter what. I love you more than anything, light of my life. I will never lose you, even if you lose yourself." 

#luke skywalker/reader #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker #luke star wars

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Watched the 2004 PotO movie with my beloved, for an objective--that is, as close as I can get--experience. Except it wasn't really but I had a great time listening to his reactions. These are out of order because I'm cobbling together a few day's worth of reactions due to me having the kind of brain disease that can only watch movies a small chunk at a time before getting bored.

under the cut: this man has a TYPE, and my man (real) is not rooting for my man (fictional).

"Carlotta is so hot...she's right, these things should not happen...she's even right about the dress being too long--somebody just tripped..."

[about Christine]

"Who is this child...she looks like she saw a moose for the first time and she's going wow, what a big deer...somebody please tuck this child into bed; she needs her rest..."

[on the changed backstory]

"WAIT, SINCE SHE WAS SEVEN? THIS MOTHERFUCKER'S BEEN GROOMING HERE SINCE SHE WAS SEVEN? What do you mean, you "IGNORE" that part? Oh, it's not in the book? It's not in the stage version? Who the fuck decided to make everything worse, then? What the fuck? What the fuck?"

[on Carlotta again]

"I love her. She's so fun. She's so right. She's so hot. Look at her man, standing up for her. He looks like he'd sell you a slice of pizza on a NYC street corner for like, a dollar. Buck A Slice. That's his name. Look at Buck A Slice, supporting his woman. Goals. That's who I want to be. What a man. That's why he's with the hottie. This is going to be me, after your next novel drops. An editor will question you and I'm gonna be like, amateurs. And then you'll storm off and I'll follow."

[after MotN, unmasking, etc]

"You know, [the Phantom] just needs some boundaries and a slightly more mature woman. If he was just like "I'm kind of thing about my face, leave the mask alone," so many woman would be like "yeah, I'm down, let's go." What? No, I know YOU would be down. But other, slightly more normal women would also be down. He's a good looking dude. Like, he's a terrible person but he'd do fine for himself if he wanted. But no."

[in general]

"I can tell I'm getting older because I'm like, everyone sucks here. Except Carlotta. And Buck A Slice. And the Managers. Firmin? Firmin's the best."

[...]

"I think Webber just can't write women as, like, people. People with their own reasonable agendas and motivations. Like, what has Carlotta actually done wrong? Nothing! She's just being assertive. She doesn't want to be replaced by the young girl the patron is fucking, which is a reasonable desire to have, and a reasonable thing to assume is happening. How is she to know that Raoul hasn't gotten any?"

[somewhere during Notes]

"Man, poor Raoul. Like, everybody thinks he's fucking the new soprano and he hasn't even taken her to dinner. He's just standing around getting accused and he hasn't even had any fun. What's his crime?"

[on Raoul again]

"Like, the DISRESPECT. Imagine. On one hand, a pedophile murderer. On the other hand [gestures at Raoul], this asshole. And everybody's like 'oh jeez, I dunno, the pedophile murderer is looking pretty good, what a tough call.' Like, goddamn. this boy gets no respect."

[etc]

"YEAH I KNOW THE PHANTOM ISN'T USUALLY A PEDOPHILE BUT HE'S DEFINITELY A MURDERER. But look, his BITCH ASS just lost a sword fight. Fair--they're above ground and he's got no reason to be trained in sword. Raoul should have killed him, though. Poor Christine. That is not a good winter outfit. They didn't have to have her tits out for literally the whole film. They could have given her a higher neckline for one scene. What do you mean, people argue about "fathering gaze"? she's literally singing about her dead dad and he's calling her child. of course it's fathering gaze. Is that, like, good? No. But it's definitely fathering. What is it you call it, Team Daddying Gaze? Yeah. Man. Poor girl. Look at her. She's still thinking about the size of that deer. Somebody help her."

[etc]

"GOD, CARLOTTA'S SO HOT, why is nobody talking about this? Her and Buck A Slice are the only healthy relationship in this story. And he's not just some guy! He's the male lead! They're both so successful! What a power couple!"

[on Masquerade]

"Man, if swathes of people are way happier when you leave them alone for a while...if your presence is making the lives of this many people worse...god, this guy sucks. See, everybody's singing about what a nice three months they've had since the Phantom shut the fuck up and stayed in his basement. Everyone is THRIVING. their skin is clear. they're sleeping well. they finally got around to organizing their closets. Everybody is SO HAPPY and now--ah yeah--now this asshole is back, ready to make everybody miserable. His outfit fucks, though. Do you like it? You would wear it to the grocery store? I know. You like the mask? You would also wear it to the grocery store? I know."

[...]

"Where the fuck is Raoul going?! I thought he was backing up to take Christine and go! Which is CORRECT! You don't have to wait for some asshole to finish his speech or find you in a crowd. If this ever happens to us we're just going to leave. You can read about the tragedy the next day, because we'll be alive, on account of not getting murdered. Oh, he was getting his sword? That's valid."

[on Don Juan Triumphant]

"Man, this is so horny. He wants to fuck her so bad. People really argue that he's asexual? Can they really not handle the idea that the ugly man is horny? This is SO horny. Oh, wow. WAY hornier than I thought it would be. That's not debatably horny. I like how the play within a play is also about masks and substitutions. That's fun. But everything about this is EXTREMELY horny on main. Look! There's our girl. Carlotta is SO hot."

[a few minutes later]

"Oh, she's crying over Buck A Slice's dead body. See? She loved him this whole time. She's never demanding or demeaning to him. This is the real love story. Very tragic. Unforgivable that Buck A Slice is murdered. What was his crime? Love. And professionalism."

[on Raoul]

"Where the FUCK did his sword go?"

[still on Raoul]

"This is a classic Dungeons and Dragons trap, which is nice. But he seems really sure that wheel does something. But in the book he's a navy boy, right? I'll allow it."

[...]

"I like that Raoul's not even talking about justice or trials or anything. He's just like, we gotta fuckin kill this guy. And he's right."

[a few minutes later]

"Wow, the--freeze frame that--like. I mean. There's more passion here in two seconds than in the whole...wow. The rope play. The thrashing. The homoeroticism..."

[...]

"Never mind. Raoul does not want to kill him. Raul is going CHOKE ME, DADDY, in everything but words."

[...]

"In this scene, Christine is crying because she realizes she is completely irrelevant and this has all been an elaborate role play scenario between boyfriends."

[...]

"In this scene, Christine is crying because she's saying, 'I shaved my legs for this, and for WHAT?'"

[...]

"You know, in most stories, when the mob gets together to go find someone, it's bad and they're being judgmental and wrong. But in THIS case--the mob is so right. This guy killed Buck A Slice. He's got to go."

[...]

"I know you don't view the ending as a redemption arc, but Christine's part here is really solid. She's got some backbone. It's powerful. I think you're wrong-- she is the main character. On the other hand, this is absolutely about the Phantom and Raoul now. Implicitly it has been about them the whole time. I criticized Love Never Dies for being about the Phantom and Raoul instead of the Phantom and Christine, but I see now that I was wrong. This is the Phantom and Raoul show. How does the kid happen? It's a mystery. Immaculate conception is about as likely as Christine getting some here."

[...]

"She's giving him...the ring that he gave her earlier? Which was the ring he took from her? That Raoul gave to her? That's...no, no, that's on purpose. In this scene, Christine is crying as she gives the Phantom Raoul's ring back, contemplating how extraneous she is here, and how she was used as a prop in an elaborate sex game between two men. "I shaved my legs for this...here's your ring back and I hope you and Raoul are happy together...I shaved my legs for this and now...maybe Meg wants to scissor. I don't know.'"

#poto #wheeze

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Wait... I just realized I never gave oc a face!! Poor thing... no happiness no name and no face 🥺

I can imagine her feelings reflected in her eyes, but that’s that. I usually pay more attention to see what she is seeing and the ambience around her in general (though I'm not able to see myself as her per se). So the only descriptor I can give of my version of her face is "expressive eyes" lol.

What I do however have a very clear mental image of is the type of outfits I think she would wear. It's usually some haute couture gown in very heavy fabric that used to be very expensive in the past and with very open neckline made by a well known fashion house about a decade or so ago, but inspired by wester european fashions of the 1200~1600s. Never thought of her wearing her hair down outside of her bedroom since it was considered very improper for a really long time in history.

Also... oh my, we are actually getting a mariage??? I don't know if I want it 😶. I was starting to convince myself that maybe oc was just gonna bring into her relationship with taehyun the same habits she had in the beginning with beomgyu: drink the shame away, let alcohol take the sexy wheel and that's how the smut happens. Or maybe that she was just dreaming the whole thing again.

Also, where is Beomgyu??? For someone so desperately in love he is taking so long to actually do something! When is our deranged prince actually going to stop brooding and act up? Something in me wanna see the pretty bitch boy go full feral for once and publicly show his ugly side in a drastic manner. (knowing your writing your probably going to deliver something even better than what my imagination expects though hihi)

~♡anon

that's definitely understandable since i don't give her any description so you don't really think of it. i just focus on her feelings and how she perceives other people. i hadn't thought of it but yeah i suppose she would have very expressive eyes. she's a "wear your heart on your sleeve" type of person

yesssss with how gyu pays for her she definitely wore a lot of extravagant shit. but unfortunately now that she lives with tyun, her style is very drab and muted. she tries to brighten it up with makeup or accessories but there is not really that much material to work with. it's killing her soul lmao. but hey if you come across any pics that resemble what you had in mind for her, send them in!

well unlike gyu, tyun doesn't just have meaningless sex with women. he's actually a virgin 😳 so that wouldn't have worked so it seems like they are gonna get married 😕

listen give him some time okay 😂 it's not easy getting through taehyun's castle, he's a very formidable lord. and gyu's plan b, which is much more bloody and insane, is gonna need time to be put into action. he just hoped that oc could be back in his arms with minimal bloodshed. he's not a monster, he's not unreasonable, but people just refuse to cooperate and so he'll show them his ugly side 😂

#thank you so much for this lovely message babe #made me smile so wide #mort talks #yamqn #♡anon

[timemachineyeah]

We don’t talk enough about the systemic health effects of casual fatphobia and how much they fucking skew the data to the point where we literally cannot know how much outcomes are actually related to fatness and how much they are related to society not being designed for fat people, like literal design.

My best friend cannot find a bra.

She’s fat. We won’t get into the ~why~ here because it honestly wouldn’t matter whether it was “all her fault” or whether it was a result of outside forces like genes and such, she still deserves a goddamn fucking bra that fits.

And she cannot find a bra.

She’s short and fat, and Fat Bras are usually full cup, but because she’s short the full cups are usually too tall, or the armbands around them are too tall, to the point where what’ll fit around her chest and over her boobs will also dig up into her arms or have such high coverage that she literally cannot wear a shirt with a neckline high enough. Any bra that goes out enough goes too high.

This affects her ability to find clothing, impacting her ability to go outside sometimes, because she has this tiny selection of bras and she constantly has to wash them and when they’re gone she has no idea when she’ll next be able to find another unicorn bra. They appear in a flash usually in startups that die soon after, and COVID has killed most the small businesses remaining where she had even a hint of a chance of finding a fitting bra.

So she wears bras that don’t fit. Or she doesn’t leave the house. One gives her back pain. The other is, obviously, not very active. She likes to be active.

If she brings it up, people suggest breast reduction surgery.

But the thing is, with a good bra, she does not get back pain.

But if it’s that hard to find a good bra, they say, wouldn’t a reduction just be easier?

Wouldn’t it be easier for you to chop off part of your flesh, they say, then for us to cut fabric and underwire to more sizes? As if that is normal. As if that isn’t horrifying.

It’s not just bras. It’s chairs. It’s benches. It’s goddamn shoes. It’s seatbelts. It’s exercise equipment - I just got an exercise bike for Christmas. I had to shop around to find an affordable one that was also rated to take my level of fat. If I were 100 pounds heavier, which some people are? I don’t think any equipment would have existed in a price range that any working person could expect to afford. I don’t think most people even look at the weight ratings on chairs and couches and furniture. Once you start? They are lower than you think. There are absolutely 100% people you love in your life - whether really tall men or just average kinda overweight fat people - who should not be using the things they are using. Who are not getting support from their mattress, their footwear, their office chair. It might be you! You might be thinking “but I am average size!”, but the amount of furniture out there that’s only weighted to about 200lbs? Or 175??? It’s SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU REALIZE. Get into the Proper Fat? The 350lb, 400lb, 500lb fat? There’s virtually nothing.

Seatbelts are not tested for fat bodies and seatbelt extenders aren’t regulated.

We know about the problems with too small a blood pressure cuff. With too low a medicine dose. With no MRI a really fat body can fit in for a thousand miles.

We know, from multiple studies on multiple oppressed communities, that social bias by itself, with zero other compounding factors, can give people worse health outcomes.

Now add up

+ one of the social biases with the least pushback even from the educated liberal set with

+ having a world that is literally not made for you. Where you cannot get clothes, furniture, or transportation in a way that will actually accommodate you,

+ where society is constantly blaming you for this. And even if you somehow (and if you know how, please tell me) manage to retain some sense of self worth and optimism and determination despite all that

+ that’s not gonna magically give you access to the daily supplies a person needs in their home and out in public that’ll make living safe and healthy life literally physically possible.

If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health start a bra company. If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health mandate changes to seatbelt requirements. If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health have a variety of chairs in your waiting room with at least some being properly Fat Rated. If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health, make it easier for fat people to be active by making exercise equipment that fits them, swimwear that’ll actually stay on them, athletic shoes that can bear them. If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health ask they be included in more medical trials. If you’re really so concerned about fat people’s health, promote fat visibility and fat people loving their bodies - because hating yourself has literally never been good for anyone’s health.

If you’re using “concern for health” as a shield to allow you to judge and criticize strangers, you don’t give a fuck about anyone’s health. You’re just an asshole who prefers a veneer of respectability when you bully people. You’re hateful and we can see right through you.

But fatphobia isn’t just bullying. It isn’t just judgment from strangers. It isn’t just medical neglect and medical bias. Even if we could wave a wand and make all that go away, my best friend still wouldn’t have a bra that fits, people still wouldn’t have a chair that supports them, a seatbelt that protects them. It’s literally engineered in. And it slowly kills people day by day by day.

#timemachine wuz here #fatphobia

[shangchiswife]

steve rogers- sparks fly

summary: y/n gets ready for a charity ball and hopes to impress bucky who ends up with a new girlfriend. absolutely crushed by this, steve ends up cheering you up.

sort of inspired by taylor swift’s sparks fly

warnings: none

word count: 1208

You zipped up your dark red slip dress and sighed as you looked into your full-length mirror. You were not only slightly skeptical about your dress but you were also worried about your night.

That night was the local charity ball at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and you were extremely nervous.

The charity ball was being hosted by your father, Tony Stark to raise funds for the people that had been affected by the aftermath of Loki reigning hell over New York.

The dress code for the event was formal wear and your father had forced you into not only going to this event but also wearing a fancy dress.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The dress you wore went a little past your upper thigh. The neckline of the dress was low and showed off enough cleavage. The dress was paired with blood-red high heels.

Would Bucky like this dress? you thought. Would Bucky think I'm pretty if I wore this?

It was well-known to everyone that you had a huge crush on Bucky. Everyone knew except for him and Steve who were clueless. You were surprised when Thor found out because he was usually a lost puppy when he came to these things, but he was one of the first ones who noticed your crush.

Your dad was not very happy about your crush on the super-soldier especially after he found out that Bucky killed his parents. He eventually accepted it though.

You had tried to give Bucky hints that you liked him but he never seemed to pick up on them.

Tonight was the night that you decided that you were going to gather up the courage and tell him that you liked him.

You stepped out of the room and then exited the Avengers compound.

You grabbed the keys to your dad's sleek black Mercedes and entered it.

"Alright, let's do this," you sucked in a breath as you turned on the radio and turned on the song "Kiwi” by Harry Styles.

Once you got to the museum you were greeted by flashing cameras and crowds of paparazzi who screamed at the passing celebrities.

"Here we go," you mumbled as you rolled your eyes and then parked your car.

Since you were Tony Stark's daughter you were used to the paparazzi and the flashing lights but it still annoyed you.

Once you slammed your car door it was over with the lights immediately moving over to you.

"Y/N! Y/N over here!" you heard voices calling.

"Y/N that's a hot dress I bet you're gonna end up with a line of men coming home with you tonight," you heard one of the paparazzi tease following in laughter.

Your cheeks burned a bright red and your fists clenched at your sides.

Was this bitch serious? you thought.

You looked up and saw a woman with long blonde hair and cold blue eyes.

"Actually I don't think I will, babe," you jabbed a finger in her face as she smirked.

"I highly doubt that honey, we all know that your one of Hollywood's biggest sluts," the blonde tutted.

"Nope, that's the image that the media has painted. Me apparently dating half of the Avengers and sleeping with every person I'm out with? Yeah, those are all lies that pathetic people like you create," you sneered as the woman's eyes widened.

"Now move," you growled as you bumped into her and she fell over with a loud thud making everyone laugh.

Once you walked into the museum you were met by Thor.

"Y/N!" Thor said happily as he lifted you up in the air.

The God of Thunder was wearing a gray-colored suit and a red tie. Tony had bought it for him since he had no formal attire except for the clothes from Asgard. Tony declared this a "no no" and took him to the tailor and bought him a suit.

"Hey Thor," you smiled.

"You look lovely," Thor took your hand a placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Why thank you, um have you seen Bucky?" you asked.

"Yes, he should be over there," Thor pointed past the sea of tables over at the buffet table where Bucky chatted animatedly with Steve Rogers.

"Okay, thanks Thor," you grinned as you turned around and started walking towards Bucky when you bumped into something hard.

"Sorry- oh it's just you Loki," you groaned as you rolled your eyes and then proceeded to cross your arms as Loki simply smirked.

"Well, well, don't you look ravishing, darling," Loki purred as he looked you up and down making you snap your fingers.

"Loki, I need to get to Bucky," you spoke as you gently moved him aside.

"So are you going to tell him?" Loki asked.

"Ugh you know too?" you smacked your forehead.

"Dear, it's pretty obvious. I don't understand it though because I'm much better looking," Loki boasted.

"Bye Loki," you laughed as you started towards Bucky.

Right as you were about to tell him your feelings you paused when you saw the same woman who had bullied you about "coming home with men" come up to Bucky and kiss his cheek. You saw Bucky smile as he slid an arm around the woman and wrap a tight grip around her waist.

The woman turned her attention towards you and gave you a victorious grin.

"Y/N!" Bucky waved.

Steve stood next to him with a shell-shocked look as he stared at your stunning figure.

"Hi Bucky," you gave him a weak smile.

"Wow," Steve gulped.

"Hi Steve," you turned towards him.

He was wearing a dark suit and a navy blue tie. He looked extremely handsome.

"Wow," Steve repeated.

"Seems Steve is a little distracted right now. Anyways, Y/N I want you to meet Vanessa! She's my new girlfriend," Bucky looked extremely happy.

"Oh, we've met," your voice projected slight sadness that Bucky didn't seem to notice.

"Really? That's great. Well we're going to be getting drinks if you want any," Bucky said.

"I'm fine, thanks. What about you Steve?" you questioned as you turned to the super-soldier whose jaw was still dropped.

"I guess not," you mumbled as Bucky strode off with Vanessa right behind him.

You turned to Steve.

"Rogers!" you snapped your fingers which snapped Steve out of his daze.

"What, sorry," the blonde shook his head.

"Are you okay?" you put your hand on his shoulder as pink dusted his cheeks.

"Yeah I'm fine you just look extremely beautiful, Y/N," Steve stared down at the floor as it was now your turn to blush.

You had never thought of Steve as attractive until now. You were always so focused on Bucky but you forgot how hot Steve was.

His blond hair was swept to the side and he was dressed in a dark suit that complimented his figure well. His steely blue eyes were set on you.

"Well frankly you look hot too," you chuckled.

"The charity ball should be starting soon please take your seats," a voice spoke loudly.

"Oh, we should start sitting down. Do you wanna sit with me?" you asked Steve who looked at you and offered a warm smile.

"Of course,"

"You know what would be fun, if we got ice cream right after this. That would be the highlight of my night," you beamed at the blonde.

"That would be fun," Steve said.

"Alright then let's go sit down and let my dad see me so at least once tonight, then we can leave faster," you grabbed his hand and started towards a table.

That whole night you forgot about Bucky.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #avengers x reader #steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers preferences #avengers x stark!reader #steve x stark!reader #captain america #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader x loki #stark!reader #the avengers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x oc

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don��t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

��Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

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[its--fandom--darling]

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

MERRY CAVILLMAS! This fic is for @cavillsthighs​ #cavillmas celebration. My prompt was for Day 14: “On Santa’s Lap” and this will have a spicy little follow up in a few more days! Enjoy!

word count: 1132, rating: PG-13, they get a little naughty and a little nice. warning: Santa!Sy, sexy talk

dividers by: @firefly-graphics​

You bit your lip gently as you approached your husband with the Santa costume. “Oh Sy?” you sing song softly.

              He looks over his shoulder, “Yeah, Bug?”

“Remember how I said that it’d be fun if you dressed up as Santa this year for Leigh and Jamie after you did it for the fire station’s toy drive?”

              He stands up, “Not really?”

“Well, I got you your own costume…” you murmur softly, holding up the bag.

              “Bug, you’re serious?”

You nod, “Yes, Wyatt. They’re still young enough to believe and it’d be so cute for them to catch a glimpse of Santa and you were so good with the kids at the fire station. So convincing that your own kids didn’t recognize you and you made so many kids days, just by letting them sit on your lap.”

              He chuckles, “How did you feel about sharing?”

You grin, “I didn’t like it but it was for a good cause.”

              “Fine, but you know that I only did it because the other guy quit and I was a last resort.”

You shrug, “I know but I just think that it’d be really nice to do this while the kids still believe.”

              Sy huffs, “I already eat the cookies AND the carrots, why do I need a silly costume?”

You grin. “Because I’ve got a costume too, handsome and if Santa Claus comes tonight then he’ll also be cumming tonight. Mrs. Claus will make sure of it,” you promise with a wink.

              He groans, “Bug, you drive a hard bargain.”

You smirk, “I know, baby, but who knows how much longer we have to sprinkle this kind of magic in the kids lives, they are growing up so fast.”

              Sy runs a hand over his hand, “That’s true. Jamie is growing like a weed. Can’t believe he’s already in his big boy bed.”

You smile and kiss him, “I know, but he takes after his daddy.”

              He chases your lips when you pull away.

“Uh, uh, there’ll be more where that came from after you hold up your end of the bargain, Mr. Claus.”

              He groans, “You’re killing me.”

You laugh and peck his cheek, “It’ll be worth it I promise.”

              Midnight rolls around and you slip into your new set in the bathroom, wrapping your Christmas themed bathrobe around you before heading into the bedroom and biting your lip at the sight of your burly, ex military man bedecked in him red velvet and fur trimming.

              He looks up at you, “Don’t laugh, bug.”

“I’m not laughing, I promise. You look very handsome.”

              He groans, “You haven’t seen the worst part yet.” You hold your breathe as he reaches for the acrylic beard and straps it on his face, before tugging the hat on.

You can’t help the small giggle that bubbles out of your lips.

              He frowns, “Bug, you promised.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it but I think it’s very sexy you are willing to do this for our babies.”

              He scratches at the fake beard, taking in your form in. “How sexy.”

You strut over to him, “Very, very sexy. So sexy, that I’ll give you a little sneak peak.” You wiggle the neckline of the robe apart so Sy can catch a glimpse of red fabric tied in a bow around your bosom.

              His eyes darking slightly, “Mrs. Syverson, you are gonna spoil me.”

You smirk, “Daddy, it’s Mrs. Claus tonight.”

              He bites his lip and then, stands up. “Alright, I’ll go get this is little farce over with and come back for my Christmas gift.”

“Good boy,” you murmur, tugging your robe closed once more.

              Sy grabs the bag of stocking stuffers you’d wrapped earlier during your yearly Love Actually rewatch and shoulder it.

“Wait!” you hiss, reaching towards the throw pillow on your bed. “You look too fit! Come here.”

              He sighs and walks over to you, sulking slightly. You undo the thick black faux leather belt at this waists and let his jacket fall open to reveal his slightly softer around the edges middle and allow yourself to ogle your very sexy husband for a moment before pressing the throw pillow against his abs and fixing his jacket once more.

“There! you look perfect.”

              He huffs, “Sure.”

You reach up and cup his snow white bearded cheeks, “You look amazing. Thank you for indulging me, thank you for doing this for the kids. I won the husband lottery.”

              His eyes soften, “I love you, Bug.”

You smile up at up, “I love you too, Sy. So much. More and more every day.”

              He presses a tickling kiss to your lips before he grabs the bag once more. “Gotta complete the mission.”

              He shoulders the bag once more and tiptoes down the stairs, you go down the hall and open the doors to kids room enough to play the sounds of bells before the thud of “Santa” landing on the roof. You hear Leigh gasp and her blankets rustle. You sneak back to your room and turn the lights off, sitting in front of the door you left cracked open to watch the kids. You hear the patter of Leigh’s little feet as she slips out of her room and into Jamie’s. Soon enough she reappears dragging a bleary eyed toddler behind her.

              “Come on, Jamie, I heard him!” she murmurs, in hushed excitement. She leads her brother to the decorated banister, where they kneel to watch “Santa” fill their stockings, munch the cookies and pocket the carrots for the “reindeer”.

              Jamie watches with big eyes and calls out “Santa” causing leigh to freeze. Sy plays along and looks up, winking at the kids before pointing to their beds. Leigh nods once, eyes round as she grabs Jamie.

              “We gotta get back in bed!” she orders, tugging her brother to his feet and pulling him down the hall. They both rush into their rooms, their doors slamming as if to prove that the are in bed once more. Sy gives his best “ho ho ho” before munching on the carrots and tiptoeing back up the stairs and into the bedroom.

              He closes the door gently behind him and clicks the lock before he tugs of the hat and beard. “So how I do, mama?”

You smile at him, “You were perfect.”

              He grins at you wickedly taking a seat in bedside chair, “Now Mrs. Claus, why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap and tell me just how good you’ve been this year.

You giggle as he pats his thick thigh temptingly, “Only if I get his package for a present.”

              He grins, “I think that could be arranged.”

“Well then, ho, ho, ho. Mr. Claus,” You murmur, dropping your robe to reveal his treat.

Taglist:  @angryschnauzer @avantgardium-leviosa @asylummara @angryburrito @brandycranby @beastlywritings @beck07990 @cavillsthighs@cavillsim @cavillsbestgal @cavillanche @cavilladdict @christhickevans @cynic-spirit @cruelfvkingsummer @connieisland @devterra @eldarwen333 @fuckoffbard @foodieforthoughts @feralrunaway @gearhead66 @geralt-of-baevia @hope-to-hell @henryobsessed @hail-horror-queen @hell1129-blog @inlovewithhisblueeyes  @persephone-is-here-omg @iloveyouyen @ketterdamclub @khadineberry @kmuir1 @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @luna-aestas @littlefreya @littlewrenofrivia @lawfulgranola @lookinsidemyhead @maizyistrash @mary-ann84 @mindingmyownbusiness @nuggsmum @natthebattygeologist @ohmygoodie @oh-for-fic-sake @oddsnendsfanfics @persephone-is-here-omg@poledancingdinos @palaiasaurus64 @quantumcheese @radaofrivia @salimahbicharara-comun @shadyskit @sillyrabbit81 @sif-the-tsunami @summersong69 @the-soot-sprite @thelastsock @trappedbetweentwo @trinitylovexox @viking-raider @winchestersister55 @winchwm @princesssterek @zealoushound​ @titty-teetee​

#cavillmas #cavillmas: day 14 theme: On Santa's Lap #henry cavill fanfic #Captain Syverson fan fic #famous last words universe #Santa!Sy #Dad!Sy #Sexy as always Sy

[cinnaminsvga]

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.”

“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

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Ten

chapter nine - Chapter Ten: Heroes - chapter eleven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky make one final effort to stop the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.6, violence, character death (major), wounds, blood, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Bucky and Y/n are a badass couple, Sam and Y/n are a badass sibling duo, everybody’s a badass, inaccurate medical care (unless you consider google legit then it’s for real lol)

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: GUYS. SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER. HOW DID WE GET HERE?!?! This one was challenging to write because I wanted to still make it mainly focus on Sam and not detract from his story while incorporating another one, hopefully I did it justice. Smaller amount of Bucky Y/n fluff purely because of plot. Imma shut up now and let you guys judge it for yourselves, hopefully you enjoy ☺️

----

I’d always wanted to visit New York, I just never thought that the circumstances in which I’d come would be so dire.

Surprisingly, flying from Delacroix to the city hadn’t been as draining as I’d thought, the adrenaline rushing through me was enough to keep my stamina up. Once I got into the state I shot up higher, the only way to pinpoint the city’s location was by sight alone. The mass of flashing red, white and blue lights served as a literal guiding light and I followed it till my feet made contact with the ground. I landed in between two buildings, a safe distance away from the commotion but close enough that I could intervene if needed. Sam had told me to go ahead of him and meet up with Bucky, the two of us would be on the ground while Sam took care of business with the senators. “Something’s different…” the voice I’d gone days without hearing announced from behind me, “New haircut?” I smirked and turned to face Bucky, “Do you get bulletproof suits for all the girls that catch your eye?” “Only the ones I really like,” he smiled, cradling my cheek in his hand and giving me an overdue kiss before pulling back to admire the suit, “Looks good on you.” The suit that Bucky had the Wakandans design for me was made almost entirely of Vibranium. It was sapphire blue, the same color of my energy with accent lines of silver running through it to define the shape. It clung tight to my body without showing off too much, the v neckline ended just below my collarbone. Hidden behind Bucky’s note in the case had also been a note from Shuri, the princess of Wakanda, listing that the suit was bullet proof and should I choose to channel my energy through a specific part of my body, the Vibranium would absorb and redistribute it to amplify my strike. The whole ensemble made me feel an official member of whatever club I’d decided to join.

I opened my fingerless glove adorned palm out to Bucky, offering him one of the comms Sam had given me and placing the other in my ear. “Ready?” he asked.

For once, I could answer feeling fully confidant in my capabilities. I reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand, giving a single nod, “Ready.”

The two of us made our way out from between the buildings and headed into the heart of the chaos. There were news crews, police officers, soldiers and SWAT teams while innocent bystanders quickly fled the scene. 

“Sam, where you at?” I said into my comm.

“I’m almost there,” he replied.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked from beside me.

“Karli’s gotta be close, keep your eyes open.” “Well, it could be anybody…” Bucky said quietly as we passed by a group of officers.

We headed for the building in which the senators were being held, the SWAT team immediately parting to allow Sergeant Barnes and myself to enter. Whether or not he was paying attention to anything other than finding Karli, I wasn’t sure, but I smiled internally at the fact that they’d recognized him for what he should have been recognized for all this time.

“Oh, we also called in some backup,” I relayed to Bucky.

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” we turned to see a man in a beanie following us, “Are you supposed to be here?” Bucky looked stunned and slightly concerned while I stayed calm, recognizing the signal. Immediately, Sharon ripped off the technologically advanced mask that concealed her identity. “It’s me.” “Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

I gestured to the woman, “Backing us up…” “Relax, no one’s looking for me here,” she said, pulling on Bucky’s arm in an effort to get us away from the crowd. “Is that Sharon?” Sam asked over the comms.

“Unfortunately,” Bucky answered, earning a light, disapproving smack from me to his chest.

“Hey, Sam, I thought I’d get the band back together,” Sharon said into her earpiece.

“Thank you, you’re risking a lot coming here.” I took a step forward towards the blonde, “If you want me to fly you out of here, now’s the time.”

She gave a little shrug, “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist,” Bucky grumbled.

“They’re gonna move on the building soon. Be ready,” Sam’s voice flowed into my ear.

“Same goes for you,” I replied, trying to compartmentalize the constant anxiety that ran through me in regards to my brother’s safety. Though knowing he wore vibranium wings now did help ease my fears a little. I turned my attention back to Sharon and Bucky, “Let’s split up and do a perimeter check. Front’s clear so I’ll take the back, you two take the sides.” “Wow,” Sharon smirked, “Give you a suit and suddenly you’re Miss Take Charge.” I shot her smirk right back at her as she headed down her side of the building while Bucky and I went around the other way. “Somethin’ changed while I was gone,” he observed as we walked. “You made amends,” I replied, flashing back to my visit to the graveyard, “I made peace.” I expelled energy from my fingertips to float above him and fly to the back of the building, not a soul in sight.

“Y/n, Sharon, Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, all quiet,” Bucky answered. “Same here,” I said, taking another look around me to be sure,

“No one’s moving toward the building,” Sharon added. 

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out,” Sam said, “It’s a misdirect, we gotta keep everybody inside.” 

I levitated once again and headed to the front of the building, finding Bucky and Sharon waiting for me. Once I landed, we entered through the glass doors. “You guys are gonna have to do something,” Sam panted through the comm, “Don’t let ‘em out of the building.”

We passed through the building’s metal detectors one by one with no issue, till the alarm sounded off on Sharon. “Oops,” she muttered unconvincingly. “Here’s one of them,” Bucky said, gesturing towards a man in a security uniform, a Flag Smasher, “We’ll get the evac.” Bucky and I winded around the halls but didn’t get far before a woman came walking towards us with a phone extended out in her palm, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Y/l/n, it’s Karli.” How she knew my name baffled me, Bucky reached for the phone regardless and took note of the orange handprint projected on the screen. He placed the call on speaker, “Karli?”

“Aren’t you two tired of fighting for the wrong side?” the young girl asked.

Bucky scoffed as we stepped down a staircase, “I’ve done this before, kid. I know how it ends.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t survive this,” she replied, “I’m fighting for something bigger than myself. With all the bodies you’ve collected, have you been able to say the same?”

“You don’t think I ever fought for something bigger than myself?” Bucky asked, “That’s all I ever tried to do. And I failed twice.” I tugged Bucky’s arm so the phone was in front of me, “Karli, all I’ve ever wanted was to use my powers for good. I respect the fight you’re fighting but this isn’t the way to win it.” “Believe me, I know all about your father’s crimes,” she spoke back, “I looked you up after meeting you in Riga, and trust me, the side you’re on is no better than the one your dad was one.” My heart clenched at her words, I knew that she was a black and white person who only dealt in absolutes, but it didn’t mean hearing it didn’t hurt. “If you wanted to do any real good, you’d have joined us,” Karli continued, “You’d have needed to get your hands dirty, but you’d have made an actual difference.” “You think your cause justifies all this death,” Bucky stepped in and took the wheel, “But in the end, the nightmares won’t go away. You’re gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this path.”

There was a hopeful pause over the line, followed by a disappointing response. “If that’s how the both of you feel, you should sit this one out.” I glanced over at Bucky, sharing the same tired, yet determined look I was displaying. “That’s not gonna happen.” “Well, thank you,” Karlie replied, “I’m glad you took my call, you’ve been a big help.” She hung up then, the realization hitting me immediately as to why she’d called us. “The evac,” I breathed, “It was a deterrence.”

“Damn it,” Bucky growled with a clenched jaw, “Come on!”

We raced through across the floor of the building, making for the winding staircase lit up with flashing emergency lights that would lead us to the parking lot. Since we were the only two fleeing the building that particular way, it was a safe bet to make that the hostages had already been evacuated. Once we were in the parking lot, Bucky took the lead and led me to a parked row of motorcycles, quickly hot-wiring one.

“Seriously, guys, you had one job,” Sharon popped out from behind a pillar to critique us.

“You worry about your guy,” Bucky grumbled as he swung his leg over to straddle the vehicle, I promptly did the same, “Good?” Locking my arms around his torso and scooching forward so my Vibranium chest was pressed against his back, I nodded. “Good.” Bucky floored the gas pedal and we rode off with an echoing screech, finding our way through the garage’s exit. A blockade of soldiers yelled at us as we quickly approached them, shooting through the gap between barriers and whipping around the street corner. On any other occasion I’d have enjoyed clinging tight to Bucky’s body as we rode through the cool New York evening air. Sadly, there was no time to savor the moment.

“That’s one down,” Sharon’s voice came through my comm. “How’d you manage that?” Sam joined in. “Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” Bucky made a sharp turn down one of the streets causing me to clutch his middle tighter, “Any idea where they’ll be headed?” “I thought you were the one in charge,” Bucky retorted over the engine’s noise. “You better speed things up, Sam,” Sharon said, “The chopper’s about to take off.” “Bucky, Y/n,” Sam called, grunts following directly after. Bucky halted at a light, determining the rest of our course. “I don’t fly, man, that’s your guys’ thing.” He revved the bike and turned down a different street.

I pressed a hand to my ear, “Meet you there.” Placing a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, I levitated off the motorcycle and watched him continue on his path while I turned in the opposite direction and headed back through the city. From across the way, I could see the silhouette of Sam’s wings as he jumped off of the building after the helicopter. The chopper had taken a nose dive and was headed for the street, pulling up just before it hit the overpass. I quickened the speed in which I was flying over the bay, catching up to Sam soon enough. He flew lower than me, his new wings dipping into the waters before he shot back up.

“Plan?” I called into the comms as I kept close to the rear of the chopper. “We gotta take out the pilot,” Sam answered, “Take the left side.” I flew to my designated spot and reached out a hand to grasp onto one of the bars of the plane. Reabsorbing my energy, I put full faith in my grip as I dangled off of the helicopter in mid flight. I poked my head out to the window on the pilot’s side only to be given a front row seat to his attempt to kill Sam, firing a machine gun till my brother was forced to pull back and off the chopper. The pilot whipped his head around to lay eyes on me, aiming his gun. Lightning fast, I let go of the bar and narrowly escaped the shots fired, throwing my hands out and expelling energy to resume my flight. Sam wasn’t far behind, we took off in tandem with one another with him sending Redwing ahead to see if any of the hostages had flight training. As the chopper plunged towards the water, we moved in synch with it, just a few hundred feet behind in a dance of sorts. In the distance, I could barely make out the shape of an almost identical vehicle headed towards the one we were tailing, this one bearing the logo of the NYPD. Our chopper rammed itself into the front of the police copter, sending it spinning in a spiral of smoke and fire. If we didn’t get there in time, it would crash into one of the skyscrapers or worse. Sam and I changed course and made a beeline for it. “Get the co-pilot,” Sam yelled as he swerved to my left. 

I flew up to the side window and shot an energy blast towards it, smashing the glass and startling the co-pilot. I then levitated him out of the chopper and flew the two of us down to the bridge below us, Sam was right behind me with the pilot. The plane was losing altitude fast and was headed straight for our rescue party. Before I could even think to build a force field, Sam shoved me and the pilots down and shielded us with his wings. I felt the Vibranium shake as the plane bounced off of us and over the edge of the bridge. Sam retracted his wings and the two of us rose to our full heights, him in all his red, white and blue glory.

“Go, I got this,” he instructed, taking off into the skies before I could put up a fight. 

I levitated high above the bridge to get a birds eye view of the city, “Bucky, where are you?”

“42nd Street, heading west,” he answered

“I’m a tourist, those words mean nothing to me.”

“I’m passing a building with white and red lights,” he modified his answer. My eyes searched for the building he was talking about, spotting it quickly and taking off toward it. I looked below me to see two humvees and multiple bodies running around them. “Found them, they’re trying to build a-“ “I see ‘em, coming in hot,” Bucky interrupted, I could see his motorcycle speeding down the street and toward the barricade the Flag Smashers had arranged. Taking a leap, or rather a fall of faith, I absorbed my energy and free fell, throwing my hands out and releasing it just before my feet hit the ground. Bucky wasn’t far behind, leaping off his motorcycle and diving forward to tackle one of the Flag Smashers. The man jumped to his feet and Bucky engaged him in combat, the two exchanging punches with Bucky having more favor. In a split second of separation between the two I shot a blast of energy at the man that sent him flying backwards into the side of a truck, creating a super soldier shaped dent in the car. A sudden explosion sounded off nearby, I turned to see that one of the humvees had been set ablaze. Bucky and I ran to the vehicle, I sent an energy blast towards the high tech lock that had been placed on the back doors. It did absolutely nothing.

“Hold on,” Bucky shouted to the screaming hostages as he used his Vibranium arm to pull on the door handle. Even he couldn’t get it open. “Help me!”

I focused all my energy on the lock, sending unsuccessful blast after unsuccessful blast. Letting out a frustrated cry, I backed away giving Bucky another chance to try. He began throwing a stream of relentless punches, his determination growing with each hit. Eventually he’d done enough damage that he switched to pulling at the door’s bar. The pain on his face as he pulled was heartbreaking, the tendons and muscles where his prosthetic met his flesh stretching to too great a length. Making one last ditch effort, I extended my energy towards the handle to help him in his efforts. Together, we strained and struggled until the lock finally broke and the doors opened. While Bucky kept his footing, I fell backwards doing a very ungraceful somersault and landed on my side. What I saw happening in front of me was almost too shocking to believe, and yet not at all. 

John Walker was getting his ass kicked by the Flag Smashers. 

With a replica of the iconic shield that was definitely not made of Vibranium and his suit, he was lying on the ground being pummeled by the super soldiers. With the vigor in which they were attacking him, I knew that the metal wouldn’t protect him forever. The man that I hated, who had tried to kill me, Sam and Bucky, who had shed innocent blood on Steve’s legacy…I could have let them kill him and I should have wanted to.

But even in my hatred, I couldn’t let a man die.

I rose to my feet and sent a stream of energy towards two of them, knocking them a few feet away from Walker. The third who I deduced to be Karli, came charging at me. I threw up a force field to act as a shield and met each one of her punches with the energy. She let out grunts of frustration, going for a roundhouse kick but giving me just enough time to drop the field and levitate her into the air. I held her there a second, watching her flail about trying to escape before tossing her several hundred feet away from us towards the end of the street. The two Flag Smashers that I’d knocked over came charging back toward me, it was time to test out just what the suit could do…

I focused my energy out through my elbow and hit one of them square in the jaw, the energy sending him rolling down the road far greater a distance that I’d have been able to cause without the Vibranium amplifying it. I turned around to the other one, dodging a quick punch before sending my energy down to my foot, landing a kick my attacker’s stomach that caused him to go airborne and land on top of one of the trucks. Unfortunately, the first guy didn’t stay down as long as I needed him to and came up from behind me and landed a kick to my back. I fell to the road with a groan, felt the burn of the asphalt as it shredded my cheek. I heard the man rip something metal followed by the sound of his thick boots coming my way, undoubtably he’d grabbed something to use as a weapon. As I rose to take another stand, I saw Bucky come running past me and turned to watch him knock the Flag Smasher over, the man dropping the toll meter he’d been holding as a bat over me. Bucky strode forward and they began fighting one another with punches and kicks while I looked around to see Karli welding the unattended meter. She swung it towards Bucky, his avoidance of the hit and my creation of a force field around him totally in synch. Karli took another swing at him and met resistance, unable to move the weapon as I froze it in place with my energy.

“You don’t have to do this,” I urged her.

With a yell she let go of the weapon and dove for me, being hit in the face with a chain that Bucky had picked up. Before I could stop it, the Flag Smasher who had originally intended to hit me with the toll meter landed a kick that sent Bucky flying backwards. His metal hand scraping the asphalt as he desperately tried to hold on before going over the edge of the nearby construction site. “BUCKY!” I cried as he screamed into the night air just before Karli kicked me down herself, and landed a punch to my abdomen. The Vibranium, while giving me protection, still allowed some of the blow to reach me and I was in just enough pain that I couldn’t go after the Flag Smasher that leapt down into the construction hole Bucky had landed in. I sent a blast of energy at Karli, throwing her back and allowing me the time to stand up and regain my footing. At the same time I rose, so did Walker, the two of us sharing eye contact that was oceans away from the last time we’d met on the battlefield. Separating once again, he turned to lift one of the Flag Smashers up by her throat while I landed a punch on one that was coming for me. The second van of hostages was brimming with horrified screams, both my and Walker’s attention being redirected to them. Karli, who stood a few feet away from us, made a run for the humvee and Walker and I chased after her. Walker braced himself with the shield and the two of them came face to face with one another. Giving another insignificant try, I sent a stream of energy towards the lock in an attempt to break it but couldn’t without Bucky’s brute strength. Behind me, I could hear the grunts and groans of Walker and Karli moving around as they fought one another. When the noises got too distant to still be close by, I knew I needed to go back Walker up.

I looked through the everything-proof glass window to the terrified faces of the senators. “We’ll get you out, I promise,” I yelled, taking off towards the fight. 

Karli came running out from where they’d disappeared behind, I sent another blast her way that she dodged. She leapt into the air with a cry and raised a fist, I threw up a force field that she bounced off of and rolled to the ground. “This isn’t change, Karli,” I spoke up over the noise of the fire, “It’s murder.” The only response I got was another yell, Karli came charging towards me forcing me to throw up another shield to deflect her punches and kicks. I didn’t want to hurt her, I didn’t even want to fight her. It was different than with Walker where there was a mutual disliking of one another since almost the very beginning, she was just a kid looking to fight anyone who got in her way. Her cause was even something I agreed with, but I couldn’t stand by her taking innocent lives in the process.

Karli caught my exposed neck, gripping my neck tightly and holding me in the air. The bruises from Walker’s assault hadn’t fully healed and Karli was squeezing far tighter than he had. Thinking quickly, I swung my legs around to the back of her knees and forced my energy out of my feet as I slammed into her legs. The two of us fell in a heap, Karli on top of me with her grip loose enough on my throat that I could get out of it and flip her over. I pinned her hands to the asphalt on either side of her head using my energy, “You can stop all of this right now,” I urged over her furious cries, “Karli, please.”

Karli snarled at me before moving her knees to hit me in my back, throwing me off balance and giving her the perfect opportunity to launch me down the same hole Bucky had fallen down. I caught myself mid air and looked down to see Bucky and one of the Flag Smashers fighting with a metal beam, Bucky gaining the upper hand. I dropped to the ground and ran to him as he landed a final strike against the man, knocking him to the ground. As my hand reached out for his arm, there was a violent crash above us. We looked up to see that the humvee filled with the hostages had been driven off the road and was balancing on top of the construction. It teetered on the edge, ready to slip at any moment and finish Karli’s plan. I extended my energy to steady the vehicle, I wasn’t sure what made me think I could keep a couple thousand pound vehicle suspended in midair but the fact that I’d never used my powers like this didn’t matter. I had to try. As it rocked back and forth against my energy, I took a stance and dug my heels in the ground, sending up the steady streams I’d recently discovered I could produce. They curved around the front of the vehicle, protecting it from falling any further. The screams of terror from the hostages were my motivation to keep going, to do everything in my power that I could do save who I could.

After a few seconds of bearing my teeth and groaning in struggle, the load lessened slightly. I opened one of my eyes that had been squeezed shut in concentration to see Walker’s homemade shield near my feet, the decommissioned captain above me pulling the truck from the back. For once, we were working as a cohesive unit. Who would have thought…

All was short lived though as the second we were making progress on getting the humvee away from the edge, Karli and two other Flag Smashers jumped Walker and attacked him. Unable to hold them off, they toppled over and fell into the pit alongside Bucky and I. I cried out as the full weight of the humvee became mine to bear once again, fighting harder than ever to keep it from falling. Every muscle in my body clenched as I kept the streams flowing while also slowly rising off the ground, wondering if it was possible for my body to run out of energy with how much I was throwing into my stand. I had to save them, so long as I was able to fight, I wouldn’t allow any more innocent bloodshed. My hands shook, causing my streams to shake and I groaned as my body sent every signal that it couldn’t continue on.

As I started to falter, I felt something come up beside me and some of the heaviness was taken away. Looking to my left, Sam was in the air bracing the weight of the truck alongside me. I felt renewed with his help to rise with him as we used our combined strength to steadily raise the humvee back onto the beams of the construction site. Once it was secured, Sam and I both landed on either side of the truck and faced the crowd. I made the easy decision to fly back down into the pit, the moment belonged to Sam and no one else. Bucky was at my side at once, his hands on my arms and a careful set of eyes watching to make sure I was okay. I rested my forehead on his shoulder for a too brief second and nodded through my heavy breathing. 

From in front of us, Karli launched a spear towards Bucky’s head that he easily got throwing it to the side as he stared her down. Sam’s shield came flying out of nowhere, hitting Karli and rebounding off of the other Flag Smasher before landing back on Sam’s wrist. Karli shed her mask, looking at him with disgust and shock. “You of all people bought into that bullshit?” she asked, examining his patriotic suit from a distance.

“I’m trying something different,” Sam answered, his voice steely, “Maybe you should do the same.”

A sudden explosion was set off, a grenade landing at our feet setting off smoke that blinded us. I quickly covered Sam, Walker, Bucky and myself in a large force field, as my eyes tried to make out Karli’s figure. “This way,” Sam directed, using the tech in his goggles to spot them. I dropped the shield and followed him, the only person I could make out semi-clearly in the haze. We ran down and through a nearby tunnel, weaving down underground hallways in search of the remainders of the group. “Hey Sharon,” Bucky said into his comm, “We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.”

“Looks like they split up,” Sam announced, he pointed down a corridor, “Here.” Walker took off without a second thought, while Bucky paused in front of Sam and I. “I got it,” he pointed to my brother, brushing his fingers against mine before heading down the hall. Sam and I both watched them leave, my anxiety rising with each step Bucky took away from me. Shaking myself out of the spiral I knew I’d go down if I gave it any more thought, I followed Sam’s lead as we continued on our way. The sound of the Flag Smasher’s signature whistle echoed off the walls causing Sam and I to freeze, he determined where it may have come from and motioned for me to come forward. 

“If something happens, you get the hell out of here, got it?” Sam whispered. “Nice try,” I replied, having flashbacks to the various times in the past week or so that we’d had conversations like this, “I’m not leaving you.” Suddenly, two shots were fired nearby. Sam and I bolted in the general direction that the sound had come from, fear flooding my body at the thought of Bucky being on the receiving end of one of the bullets. The worry caused me to run faster. We made it into a wider room, Karli standing in the middle with a gun aimed at a helpless Sharon, laying on the ground with a hand over her abdomen. I spotted the blood staining her shirt and threw a force field around her as Sam clipped his shield to his back. “Sam, stay back,” Karli warned, her eyes flicking to him briefly before landing back on Sharon.

“So, what’s next, huh?” Sam asked, taking careful steps toward her, “You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end? Please,” he lowered his tone, “Let me help you.” “Don’t try and manipulate me,” Karli replied, looking between the blue barrier I shielded Sharon with and me. She twisted her body to aimed her gun at me, my resolve to protect Sharon stronger than protecting myself. 

“Karli, don’t!” Sharon cried.

Sam dove forward and tackled the girl to the floor, somersaulting away from her as Karli raised a piece of cinderblock. She launched it at Sam who deflected the makeshift weapon with his shield. Karli swung at him and Sam jumped on top of a small staircase, his shield in front of him at all times. “I’m not gonna fight you!” he yelled, leaping off the stairs. 

Karli continued her attack, Sam dug the tips of his wings into the concrete and met her fist with the shield. “Karli…” he urged just before she ripped the shield away and walked him backwards, Sam completing a series of jumps and flips. Karli grabbed a metal pipe and swung it at Sam, knocking him to the ground. “Stay down!” she growled.

Every instinct I had told me to go after the person who was endangering Sam’s life, anybody’s would be. But I knew that it was pointless to fight her, it was only giving her what she wanted. The serum enhanced people’s personalities, Karli had always been a fighter but now, she was looking to fight anything and anyone and would do it ruthlessly. I couldn’t buy into it.

I retracted the shield I’d built around Sharon and flew around Karli, placing myself between her and Sam. “Karli, the fight is over,” I breathed. 

“No!” she shrieked, barely giving me enough time to throw up an energy shield before she threw a punch. Her fist bouncing off of it only angered her more and she began a relentless attack, banging her hands against the force field, taking swipes anywhere she could. I levitated over her head and landed a few feet away, luring her away from Sam. Karli was furious at the fact that she couldn’t touch me or get me to try and battle her. It didn’t take long for Sam to spring to his feet, throwing his shield out in between Karli and I. Karli focused her efforts on Sam then, punching the shield relentlessly as Sam walked her away from me. “Fight back!” she screamed in my brother’s face.

I extended my energy and pulled her away from Sam, throwing her a few feet away from us. Karli let out a battle cry and leapt forward, Sam and I coming side by side and holding up our respective shields. Karli’s fist rebounded off of my energy and spun around to hit Sam’s shield, he then grabbed her by the waist and turned on his thrusters, flying them across to room to slam Karli into a beam. “Stop it,” he ordered, gripping her by the lapels of her jacket. Karli replied by throwing him above her head into the ceiling, I used my energy to yank her away from Sam and in front of me. 

“Listen to me, Karli,” I urged, earning a super-soldier shiner to my cheek, “We’re not your enemies.” Karli dropped me to the ground like I weighed nothing, the vibranium suit creating a dent in the flooring. I let out a groan at the shock and she ran off to deal with Sam. “Fight me!” she screamed as she clawed at the shield, “Fight back!” She flipped him over.

He fell.

The shield fell out of his reach.

Karli picked up the gun and aimed it at Sam.

He rose, accepting his fate.

Gathering the strength I had left, I got to my feet.

With trembling hands, knowing what I was about to do, I levitated and landed in front of Sam.

Karli’s face shifted, though I couldn’t read it as my emotions overwhelmed me. 

A supercut ran through my mind.

Sam.

Sarah.

AJ and Cass.

Mel.

My mom.

My father.

A legacy rewritten.

Bucky. 

Would he forgive me for what I was about to do? I hoped so.

“Go ahead,” I whispered, staring Karli down and blinking away the tears before she could see them, “Do it.” Karli’s face scrunched up as her finger prepared to pull the trigger when suddenly, three gunshots went off from nearby, hitting her. The gun fell to the ground and so did she. My eyes flew to where the bullets had come from, the sight of Sharon holding the smoking gun awaiting me. Sam dropped to his knees to cradle Karli’s head, the young girl staring up at him wide eyed and afraid. I knelt down on the other side of her, slipping her still warm hand into mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, staring up at Sam before looking to me. The only thought that ran through my mind was she’s just a girl, she’s just a girl…As I watched the tears well in her eyes before the life drained from them and they shut, the sudden innocence overwhelmed me. She was just a girl…

I didn’t let go of her hand even when it went limp, holding it to my heart as I wept over her. Sam cradled her cheek as we sat quietly, the only sounds were my soft sobs and Sharon’s labored breathing. I couldn’t face her right now, my feelings were too mixed about the way she had saved my life.

Eventually, once an undetermined amount of minutes had passed, Sam lifted Karli into his arms and the two of us rose to leave. When I turned to tell Sharon to come with us, she was already gone, probably having slipped out a back hallway. Sam carried Karli’s body the entire way out of the building, I hardly registered when we made it outside in the night air.

“I’ll clear the way for you,” I mumbled, extending my energy and shooting into the air, Sam not far behind me. The wind blowing against my dried my tears off of my cheeks as I flew toward the glow of ambulance lights outside the building we’d started the night at. There were crowds of news crews, there were the senators we’d saved and officers cleaning up the wreckage that had been left behind. They all noticed as I flew up, landing in the midst of it all and scanning the crowd for Bucky. Once I spotted him and Walker towards the very back near the ambulances, I ignored the reporters asking me questions as I weaved through the chaos. Bucky strode forward as I neared and wrapped me in his arms, I let go of the breath I’d been holding in my chest as soon as our bodies met. He was okay. My hands held the back of his neck as I dug my face into his shoulder. He tapped my waist and I turned to see Sam flying in, resembling the an angel with his outstretched wings as he landed. He carefully passed off Karli’s body to the paramedics who placed the girl on a stretcher, carrying her off to who knows where. 

Sam walked towards the crowd, doing the same as me and ignoring the reporters flooding him with unimportant questions. He had flown in carrying the dead body of a kid and here they were, asking him if they should refer to him as Captain Falcon. He stopped in front of the senators who were busy thanking him for dealing with what I heard one refer to as ‘terrorists.’

“Are you still going forward with resetting the borders?” Sam asked.

They answered, and while I couldn’t hear their words, I could read Sam’s face well enough to know it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“You have to stop calling them terrorists…” “What else would we call them?” one of the senators asked. “Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the word, right?” Sam continued, “What do you think those people are going to call you? These labels, terrorists, refugees, thug. They’re often used to get around the question ‘why.’

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” another senator asked. “Yes,” Sam said plainly. 

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless?” the bearded senator pushed back, “Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.”

Just as he prepared to walk away, Sam spoke up. “You know what, you’re right, and that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging and, I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is, now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you can remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful, it could erase half the planet. You would know that you were about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions. Senator.”

“You just don’t understand,” the senator replied, probably the most ignorant response I’d ever heard.

Sam scoffed, “I’m a black man, carrying the stars and strips. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people out there who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here. I feel it. The stares, the judgment, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Yet I’m still here. No super serum. No blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”

Holding onto Bucky a little tighter, the tears that I shed had morphed to those of joy. There my brother stood, in front of the government and the entire country saying what we all needed to hear. He spoke without reserve, unapologetic in his stance, and I had never been prouder of him.

“We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway,” Sam’s voice rose with passion, “Look, you control the banks. Shit, You can move borders. You can knock down a forest with an email. You can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room with you when you’re making those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” he paused, collecting himself before gesturing to where Karli’s body lay in the ambulance, “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you. And no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve got to do better, Senator, you’ve got to step up because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t want to see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god,” Sam’s voice broke for only a second, “Or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is how are you going to use it?”

With that, he walked away from the crowd that had been watching him so intently and made his way towards us. He stopped in front of Walker, the two of them sharing a look before nodding to one another, a non-verbal truce being declared. Walker also turned to me, in the end he had stepped up and done the right thing, but I knew that the two of us would never be on good terms. I’d never forget his tightening grip around my throat, nor would he forget that I wasn’t afraid of him and would tear him apart if he ever tried anything like he had in the warehouse again. But I had saved the guy’s life and because of that, his stare softened for only a second as he nodded his thanks to me. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd, off to whatever his next mission may be…

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a black guy in stars and stripes,” Bucky broke the tension of the moment as Sam approached us.

The three of us shared a chuckle before Sam and I locked eyes, not having spoken a word yet about what had happened underground. I threw my arms around his neck as he wrapped his around my shoulders, sharing probably the best hug we’d ever had. Our shared goal of keeping one another alive had been achieved. “Love you,” I whispered in his ear. “Love you too,” he replied, a hint of emotion choking him up. He squeezed a little tighter before releasing me, the three of us walking off together.

“Nice job, Cap,” Bucky said, patting Sam’s back that displayed the shield before sliding his hand back around my waist. A few feet away, hidden behind one of the ambulances and leaned up against the car was a familiar blonde figure.

“Sharon?” Sam called.

“Blocking my light,” she retorted, holding a gauze pad to the gunshot wound on her abdomen. “We need to get you to a hospital,” I strode forward, examining her injury as best I could.

“She’s not gonna listen,” Bucky grumbled as he looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was following us. Sharon panted as she shrugged, “Hey, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“Told you…” Bucky said at my side. “Yeah, I don’t care,” I shook my head, “We’re take care of this.” “Uh, Cap?” an interruption came, the senator that had been on the receiving end of most of Sam’s impassioned speech. “I think he’s talking to you,” Sharon said before turning to both Sam and I, “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth,” she looked Sam up and down and genuinely smiled, “Suit looks good on you.”

Sam chuckled, “Thanks.”

Bucky nodded along, humoring the conversation for as long as he could. “All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” he asked, placing a hand on Sharon’s back to urge her forward. Giving up, she allowed him to lead her away. 

“I didn’t forget my promise,” Sam called to Sharon, referring to the pardon I hoped he could secure for her. 

I turned to my brother, “Meet you back home?” 

He gave a long sigh, his eyes flitting between Bucky’s departing figure and me, “Why don’t you stay here a couple days?” I knew what he was offering and how hard it was for him to say the words, he was trying to give me time with Bucky. I did my best to conceal my smile, “Are you sure?” “You risked your life all week, you almost died trying to protect us,” he stated with a scoff, “I think you deserve a little time off. Now go,” he looked back to Bucky and scrunched his face up a little, “Before I change my mind.” Unable to hide my grin any longer, I reached out and clasped hands with him, bringing each other in for another hug. “Go get ‘em, Cap.”

The two of us let each other go, off to tend to our business before eventually reuniting back in the house we’d grown up in. It was crazy to think that I owed almost every great thing in my life to the boy who’d sat next to the lonely girl in first grade. Now here we were, dressed in Vibranium off saving the world, or at least doing what we could to make it a better one.

——

“Superhero, nurse…you’re full of surprises, Y/l/n,” Sharon commented before sucking in a sharp breath as I placed another suture.

I laughed softly, concentrating on my work, “I took a first aid class a couple years ago. When you’re living with two boys, trust me, it comes in handy a little too often. But I’ve never had to remove a bullet.” We were seated on the floor of Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment with me tending to Sharon’s wound using his first aid kit. Bucky was waiting in his bedroom to give us privacy, Sharon had her shirt pulled up and her pants unbuttoned to give me full access to her stomach. I’d had to place sutures once when Sarah had accidentally sliced her finger open with a knife, pulling out a lodged bullet was entirely new to me.

“I saw you tonight, with the truck,” she said as she watched me work, “You did good.” 

I supposed now that I had shown my powers to the world, I’d have to get used to people paying me compliments but for now, I still didn’t know how to take them. “So are you gonna stick with it? The hero thing?” Sharon asked.

I tied another suture, closing the sterilized hole in her abdomen. “I think so. Captain America needs a right hand man, why not have it be his sister?” Sharon hummed in agreement, a beat of silence passing. “You don’t think you’ll strike out on your own? You seem a little too independent to follow orders.” “Yeah, well,” I started working on the last stitch, “Sam and I work better together than I would with anyone else. Maybe one day I’ll do my own thing but for now, I’m fine where I’m at.” “Well, I guess you’re finally in a position to do all that good you said you wanted to,” she sighed, “Just don’t forget to keep your eyes open, opportunity’s everywhere.” “Alright, Miss Madripoor,” I chuckled, sterilizing the wound one more time with an alcohol wipe, “Your hustler side is showing.” 

Sharon shrugged and gave a little smirk, “All I’m saying is there’s a lot of ways to effect change, but I’m sure you’ll find that out.” Storing her advice away in my head for a later time, I placed a gauze pad on her abdomen and secured it. “Alright, you should be good. Just promise me that you’ll actually get checked by an actual doctor or whatever you have in High Town?” “Sure thing, Doc,” she replied with a smile as she adjusted her clothes again and rose to her feet, “You’re good, Barnes!” Bucky stepped back out into the room, peering around the corner carefully before entering fully. Despite the fact that he was in his own apartment, he still hadn’t changed out of what he’d worn to the fight. “What happens now?” I asked, looking to Sharon, “Hotel? Hidden apartment in some dodgy part of the city?” Sharon chortled at my suggestions, “I’ve got a plane waiting to take me back to Madripoor. The longer I stay here, the more of a chance they’ll find me,” she gave a small smile, “It was good seeing you guys again.” “It won’t be the last,” I confirmed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Sam’ll get that pardon, you’ll be back before you know it.” “That’d be nice,” she sighed longingly, clearly thinking about all the freedom that would come with coming back home. Coming back to the conversation, she patted my arm and regained her full voice, “But until then, keep them in check. God knows they need it.” “The hell does that mean?” Bucky grumbled from his position outside his bedroom, leaving Sharon and I to share a laugh before she walked to the front door. “I’ll do my best, and hey, thank you for what you did for me...” I called out just before she shot us one last knowing smile and left, the door shutting behind her. While I wanted to worry about her walking the streets of New York and possibly getting caught, I’d seen enough of her in action to know that she could handle whatever came her way. 

Bucky slowly made his way to the door, locking it and turning around to face me. It was the first time of the night we’d been completely alone. Our eyes met, tired and traumatized but still alert and seeking one another out. Bucky crossed the room in a few long strides, taking his time in approaching me as if he was savoring the moment. I reached out once he was close enough and interlocked my hand with his, tugging him close to me. He dragged two featherlight fingers over the nasty bruise that Karli had given me, his brow furrowing as he examined the side of my face. I ran my thumb over the long red bruise across the side of his forehead, the pressure increasing when he leaned into my touch.

The night could have ended so differently. If Karli had pulled the trigger, if Bucky hadn’t fought on such high alert, we could have ended in tragedy. Such thoughts were better buried away and not thought of, but I couldn’t help it. Lucky, blessed, whatever word you wanted to use…we were it. With no battles on the horizon to fight, we could focus on figuring out just what spark there was between us. 

No words needed to be spoken, not for now at least. Tonight, all I needed was to hold Bucky in my arms and remember that despite every odd and every trouble thrown our way, we were alive. And as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a tender but still passionate kiss, I had never felt more alive.

----

A/N: Oh, but we’re not done yet...We still have some time off and a cookout to attend 😉 I really can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this series the past few weeks, it means the world to me that I’ve been able to bring a little joy to people’s days. Let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be tagged for the LAST CHAPTER. 

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine