#directly after bitching that they're useless
Text
What the fuck is wrong with people.
#work bs#i stg the more i work with business owners#the more radicalized i get#the shit that people think is acceptable to say to me is just horrifying#it wasn't even the worst thing but it sure is wild to hear a man blithely admit he hasn't given his long-time employees a raise in 15 years#directly after bitching that they're useless#sir i have your business figures#i know how much you're pulling#just for the love of all that is good#please keep your personal opinions to yourself when working in a professional capacity#please
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
3, 4, 6 for some VIOLENCE please
Yeah don't worry, I always default to Bloodborne when not specificed, it is my main qualification in the series after all! (Ask from this ( x ) meme)
3) screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr
They're kind of becoming a blur, and usually come down to the same complains and topics, but one of them particularly stood out! Granted I should not have been exposed to it because OP blocked me over that time I talked back at a Gehrman-hater that went as far as bullying other fans (oh how rude of me... :/ ) , but I have been anyway because a new mutual shown it to me over featuring "theory that Fauxsefka got pregnant like Arianna is MiSoGyNiStIc uwu" bit because they wanted and explanation!
Basically, a lot of bashing Bloodborne as misogynistic piece of garbage for featuring themes of motherhood, portraying motherhood as a good thing, something about how it was a bad thing that "even" Maria ended up having compassionate side and that "we as fans had the power to change that", Fauxsefka bit I've mentioned and so on. Ending with the "well but don't think that I dislike Bloodborne, it is still one of my favourite games" that gave me severe abusive talk vibe for some reason. "Yes you are so ugly and stupid and useless but don't worry, I love and accept you and will fix you :3".
Like... it requires a whole separate essay to disagree with that logic, but that is not even relevant! Because even under assumption that Miyazaki is a misogynistic freak for putting emphasis on themes of motherhood in his work, I absolutely abhor the logic of "We as a fandom have the power to disrespect the author's intention (that I made up btw because I am eager for reasons to be mad) and make our own ecosystem of headcanons and interpretations that is better". Of course not everyone will accept the creation unconditionally, especially if it has problems or bigotry, but that is on them, and making it a problem of the fandom is just terrible! Spreading that attitude creates that clique/fandom leaders dynamic, which brings me DIRECTLY to one of the questions, so I'll skip ahead:
6) which ship fans are the most annoying?
Mariadeline fans.
^ Lmao ya'll probably fsdgsdf But it is not just because of how they generally treat characters or other fans, but even how they treat other Mariadeline shippers! I've noticed that whenever there is a Mariadeline shipper who is very nice, level-headed and quiet, a type to 'just enjoy their thing', they get obnoxiously neglected.
Look, I WANT to give it benefit of the doubt and say that maybe it is coincidental, but it doesn't seem like it. Mariadeline shippers are a clique of very popular artists and writers that always support each other's creativity and instantly pull in new Mariadeline shippers into a hug, regardless of art skill. ....EXCEPT for the times when the fellow fan doesn't constantly bitch about "wrong" interpretations of Maria or Adeline, doesn't start Maria's masculinity disco horse every other weak, doesn't put a focus on how Adeline had no agency over her choices and was 'groomed' (even though everyone already knows that 'grooming' of Blood Saints was a translational mistake but okay fine), doesn't portray is as perfect lovely cottage core fluff while only faking the possible problem(atic moments), doesn't-
Like, it can only happen so many times before I start to see the trend of the "leaders"/chosen spokespeople/whatever conveniently excluding fans who sees the characters and the ship the "wrong" way. They've decided that this dynamic can only work like this and the characters in it can only be like this, and any varied take is not celebrated as refreshing with the novelty but passively-aggressively side-eyed as disturbance of their peace of rinsing the same exact thing over and over for years, unaltered. Heck, not even novel takes. Novel approach of the person. I swear, they GOTTA be side-eyeing fellow fans that don't constantly start discourse, because why else the 'chill' Mariadeline fans are left in the dust? It feels like hatred is the part of the requirement for the clique, the 'cool kids' and only those they've 'blessed' with their approval, and this ship never SHOULD have gotten into claws of the clique in the first place!
In other words, making the groups of 'cool kids' to look up to is one way to ruin a dynamic/ship for everyone else, and ruin fandoms in general. Like, one of my mutuals ended up disliking the ship because of its prevalent association with the most toxic fans, and I kinda helped them to like it again, on their own terms and with their own (based) headcanons! The illusion of "supportive wholesome community" falls at the seams here and there if you just stand aside and watch for 2 minutes, and how this ship is supported and perpetuated is one of the biggest examples.
4) what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?
To be honest, it is ridiculously hard to make me block someone. Usually people whose stuff I don't really want to see coincidentally block me first because, again, there is always a big chance that I pick a very strong language to disagree, so the problem solves itself! Even when I do block someone, in 90% I unblock later for this or that reason!
But yeah, there were a couple of exceptions. Only one of them qualifies as 'annoying' to begin with, though 'petty, smug and insecure in the worst way' fits more? They already gave me enough signs of the mean girl (gender neutral!), and what really sealed it was when they acted as though I grossly disrespected them over pointing out a piece of dialogue from the canon when in NO way I was rude or Redditor brand of condescending. Even told me that I "baited" them. They didn't block me, but I blocked them. Not instantly, but the next time I saw their art on my dashboard. The thing is, earlier during that mess of a "conversation" they've admitted on not actually caring about Bloodborne lore but just collecting prompts from it to create their own thing. It just changed my perception of their creativity and it felt empty all of a sudden, like just a lot of glitter and lights without any actual substance within. I can be unhappy with someone while still liking their creativity, but I decided it was better to not invest any admiration for works that had no real care and passion for the source material within. Normally when I realise the gap between me and another fan's level of investment I simply don't follow, but they were frequient presence on the dashboard, so..
#fandomry rambles#/negative#ask replies#again feel free to gaslight me on the community one but I can only see the same thing happen so many times before I make a conclusion#god fucking damnnit do better!! have you never grew over high school dynamic?#fuckin SUPPORT your 'oddball' fellow fans! I am tired of seeing shippers left in the dust for awful sin of not following same trends!#I just can't get over how much it is just like high school where 'cool kids' shunned everyone that didn't match their trends and expectatio#goes to show that humans never really grow up and mature#they just learn how to make the same petty problems more subtle and hidden under layers of politeness#not that I know what being polite even IS lmao
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
“I’m guessing you stole them?” For Gwynriel, please <3
This is more of a Valkyrie ft Azriel one but it was the first idea that came to mind and I died writing this 😂
Azriel watched from the corner where his shadows hid him against the dark stone until the culprit was directly in front of him. With a flick of his finger, the shadows dispersed, causing the three suspects to freeze in their tracks. With a comical slowness, all three heads swiveled in his direction, each wearing a ridiculous attempt at innocence. They reeked of alcohol.
He narrowed his eyes on the redhead who stood in the middle, a large bundle cradled in her arms. "Are you wearing warpaint?"
"No," she replied a touch too quickly. He raised a brow. "...maybe."
Azriel hummed. His eyes flicked down to the bundle in her hands then between her two friends. "What have you got there?"
"Wine," the winged one said, lifting the bottle in her hands as though the answer should have been obvious. The tall one at the front swallowed a laugh when he gave her friend an unimpressed look.
"Let's try that again, shall we?" he said, turning back to the one in the middle. "What have you got there, Berdara?"
"Nothing," she said, pulling her bundle closer. Before she could react, his shadows darted out, flipping over the top of the blanket hiding her prize. He stared down at the bundle, his gaze flicking up to her face, back down, and up again. Then glanced in the direction they'd just come.
After a protracted pause he said, "I'm guessing you stole them?"
All three began blustering, looking rather dramatically offended.
"I don't-"
"We would never-"
"We certainly did not!"
"We... commandeered them!" At that, they all began nodding their heads like deranged birds.
It was perhaps the hardest thing he'd ever had to endure not to laugh at the pack of idiots before him. He cleared his throat, swallowing a smirk.
"Commandeered," he repeated.
More nods to the affirmative.
"From where?"
The trio exchanged wide-eyed glances. "The..." the first one said, glancing between her friends for inspiration.
"The kitchen!" the last one declared, once again raising the dusty bottle in her hand.
"The kitchen," he said flatly, glancing back at the bundle. "You commandeered journals... from the kitchen?"
Once again, all three head bobbed confidently up and down, the middle one raising her chin to look down her nose at him, daring him to challenge her.
He bit the inside of his cheek, rolling his lips together to keep them from shaking as he slowly nodded. "Interesting. Because it looks to me like you just came from the Library..."
The redhead opened her mouth, but said nothing, apparently at a loss. She was rescued by the first. "The kitchen... was in... the Library. Wh-where the priestesses... eat." She nodded sharply, satisfied with her explanation.
Azriel gave her a long look, but she did not waver, holding his stare with icy determination. He then turned his stare on each of them in turn until the winged one cracked crying "They're from Merrill's office!"
"Em!" the other two hissed. She shrugged helplessly.
"What? He had his Spymaster face on!" She leaned forward, whispering loudly. "It was really scary."
The redhead scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Traitor."
While the three bickered amongst themselves, Azriel rubbed the space between his brows, imagining the unholy terror the white haired female would undoubtedly unleash the next day when she discovered her journal missing.
"Why, may I ask," he sighed, already regretting this entire conversation. "Did you take Merrill's journals?"
"Because she's a bitch," the first one sneered.
"Because she's awful," the redhead agreed.
"Because she called Gwyn a useless halfbreed wench," the winged one declared hotly.
Azriel went very still, surveying their furious expressions. After a moment, he waved a hand, turning to continue down the hall. "Carry on."
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
QUESTIONS >:3
Rim 2
Arjun 28
Ceto 37
Krys 14
Sorrel 18
And C for any of them!!!
[Rim] ★ 2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?
Super easy, like, she's already laughing level of easy! You haven't said anything. It's like resting bitch face except she has resting smiling face and honestly if she feels even a little bit happy it's not unusual to see her smile or laugh.
[Arjun] ★ 28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?
It's funny you ask that because he's the liar of the group. No malicious lies but he finds it easier to go with that rather than honesty. If he doesn't know a person especially, he will just lie if it pleases them. People pleaser detected. If it's a closer one he's more likely to tell them his honest opinion about things that might hurt them if he doesn't.
[Ceto] ★ 37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, or things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?
Hmmm, I've never thought of that. He strikes me as a very visual memory type of fella, like he'll look at something for a bit, repeat it to himself and he'll remember it until it's useless information. You know when you memorize exactly where a sentence starts and finishes in a book, and once you change the book you get confused? Something like that. Fun fact though, if it's a person important to have striked, he names his snakes after them to never forget them.
[Krys] ★ 14. What animal do they fear most?
Pigeons, I've just decided. Even worse if it's a full-on flock of them. Keep them away from him. Thankfully if it's one or two he'll just eye them suspiciously and there aren't that many around the city. Rather than fear he'd like to have nothing to do with them.
[Sorrel] ★ 18. What embarrasses them?
AGAIN, FUNNY YOU ASK THAT, because he's usually the one to roast the people and make fun of them. If Krys makes sure he won't get hit first, this man will not care, if you're doing something cringe he'll call you out on it. Which is why he does get embarrassed if he catches himself doing something "awfully nice", don't you worry though, if you try to call him out on it he'll retaliate immediately, I don't know where he stores all his comebacks.
★C. Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?
I'll just answer for the ones you asked about.
Rim's the mc so she was pretty much the one driving the plot. Ceto was made to be her "guide" character and then along the way I took out some elements out of him to make Arjun, so OG Ceto is a bit different personality-wise. Those 3 with Louise are the main four.
KRYS AND SORREL THOUGH, obviously any young one I make will just be a student at the university setting I have, but getting them to be relevant story-wise took a bit of doodling, thinking joking around with @ri-cakes before taking those jokes seriously. So even if these two aren't directly plot-related, they're gonna be helpful in including them with subtle details.
#× kiyo talks#× werespider#ws × rim#ws × ceto#ws × arjun#ws × krys#ws × sorrel#kiyoart#× my ocs#ask game#ask#popcornsalty#long post#THIS ENDED UP BEING A LOONG ONE#THOUGHT ID ADD ART BANNERS JUST TO DIVIDE THE PARTS HOPE THAT MAKES IT MORE READABLE#THANK S FOR THE ASK POKE#tw snakes
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)
“Was it worth it?”
> genre : smut, angst, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> words : 15k (ugh sorry)
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity
previous - masterlist
There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.
You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.
Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.
You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.
They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.
You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.
And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.
You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.
"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.
At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.
"Look, who's here!"
Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.
For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.
For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.
"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing.
"What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.
Why would you fall for Park Jimin?
"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."
"You can see he's a very generous slut."
It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.
"Useless Jungkook could never!"
Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.
"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.
What the actual fuck?
"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.
She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.
You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.
"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.
You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.
Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.
That would never work.
Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said.
What a shame.
You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.
Now you really need to get drunk.
There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he?
And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?
He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.
Everything he does.
Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.
Sort of.
Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.
You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.
The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.
Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.
You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.
The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.
Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.
You're on the verge of tears.
Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?
Why?
You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.
You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.
He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer.
He's the worst and the best part of your existence.
Of course, you'd call him.
"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.
"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.
You love him, you love him, you love him.
"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"
"No fun at all."
He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.
"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"
"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."
"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?
"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."
"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"
"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.
"The app says what?"
"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.
"I am, baby, but I'm confused."
Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?
It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.
"What does the message say?"
"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."
"I don't think that's what's written, baby."
"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"
"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."
"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.
By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."
"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.
"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.
"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."
As if.
You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.
It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.
"Junggoo-"
"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.
Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.
That's a lie.
It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.
"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."
"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so?
Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.
"When I received the package I tried it once."
"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.
"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"
"You just said that!"
"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."
"Oh." Makes more sense.
"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."
You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?
"Fucking invite me then."
"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.
Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.
There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.
Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.
You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.
You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.
Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.
It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.
You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.
How are you supposed to fucking do that?
Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.
"For fuck's sake!"
"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.
Why doesn't it mortify you?
"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"
"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.
"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.
"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."
"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."
"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"
"You're lying."
"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."
There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.
"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."
You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.
"This one sucks ass."
"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.
"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"
"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."
"Am not, you are."
He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.
"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.
"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."
You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."
"Then what is it that you want?"
"Told you."
"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.
But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.
"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.
"Your stupid toy."
"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"
"Never told you to buy it."
"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"
"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.
"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."
You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.
"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.
"See?"
It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.
Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.
Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.
For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.
It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.
He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."
"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.
"So is-"
"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.
"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.
You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.
"It sucks."
For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."
"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."
"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.
"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."
"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."
"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"
He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.
"That's not what I said, you brat."
"That's what I heard though."
"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."
Oh. My God.
Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.
"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.
"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.
He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?
"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"
The second wave hits. "Oh- God."
"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself.
The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.
The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.
"Are you okay?"
Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.
You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.
"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.
Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?
"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.
The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.
It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.
"You don't sound fine."
"But I am."
"How much did you drink?"
"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.
He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.
"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"
"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"
"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful.
"I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.
You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.
"Wait-"
"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.
"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."
"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.
"Uh?"
It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.
Shit.
You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.
You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.
"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"
"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.
Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.
Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.
Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that.
Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.
In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."
"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?
"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.
"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.
"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."
"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"
"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.
"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."
Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.
"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.
"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.
"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.
"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."
"It's not."
Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.
"It is."
"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.
"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"
You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked.
How dares he?
Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?
"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.
You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."
And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.
You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.
"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.
"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.
"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"
The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.
"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."
"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.
"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."
"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain.
"Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.
"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.
"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"
"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.
"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.
Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.
Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.
"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"
"What? Why not?"
"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.
"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."
Fuck.
You are doomed.
What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?
"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."
"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?"
"Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.
"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.
It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.
"I think so..."
"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?
"Why would you stay?"
"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."
"There's an option for that?"
"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.
"Sounds like high tech."
"Yep."
"Sounds expensive as hell."
He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.
You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.
"But if you stay-"
"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."
"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."
"But maybe you'll forget about it?"
"Jungkook."
"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.
There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.
But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.
"Do you want to?"
"Uh?"
"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."
"Oh."
"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.
It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.
"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"
He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.
You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.
"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.
"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.
"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."
"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.
"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.
Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.
"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."
"Well, indeed."
"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.
"Your whole existence is awkward."
"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.
"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.
"You put your earbuds on."
He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.
Fine.
If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.
"Put the thing on."
"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"
"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"
"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.
"Oh. Do you now?"
Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.
You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.
Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.
"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.
It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."
You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.
"Are you still dressed?"
"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.
"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.
They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.
"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"
"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.
"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.
"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."
"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?"
"I think I ruined them..."
"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"
"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.
It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.
"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.
"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.
It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.
"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?
"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.
"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."
"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."
"Jungkook-"
"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."
"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"
"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.
"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.
And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.
"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?
"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.
"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.
"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.
"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"
"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."
"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."
It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.
Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.
You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.
You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.
There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.
You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.
"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."
"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.
One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.
There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease.
What the fuck have you done?
"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.
"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.
"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"
"What are you talking about?"
"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.
"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.
Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.
Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.
"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.
It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.
"You sure?"
"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.
"Alright."
He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.
"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.
"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.
Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.
God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.
Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.
"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."
"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it?
"To use them with you."
"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.
"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."
"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.
Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.
"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.
"No."
"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.
You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.
A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.
i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)
for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]
tag list: @safi4x @kai-kai-bookshelf @somewhereinthestarss @hsinmyheart @moonchild1 @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie @fangirls94 @jinsalpaca @ggukkieland
#btswriterscollective#ksmutclub#networkbangtan#ggukienet#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#my writing
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Goblin king...the one without warts.
Thorin x reader.
(Not my image.)
Summary:Imagine being apart of the company, of course Gandalf shoves you in with no choice. Growing close to Thorin eventually, after stopping at an inn.
A/n:Anon request includes ,but I won't spoil it. I do not own any characters.
Word count:4682
Characters:Y/n, the company, humans, elves, and David Bowie as Jareth.
Songs:ziggy stardust, as the world falls down.
Warnings: Alcohol, just ale. Uh mentions of jareths pants , and reference to a jareths 'magic'
It's only forever, it's not long at all. Only if we have forever, but we all die. We are not elves, we are not Morgan Freeman. Unless, you aren't telling me something?
Thus, you must take risks; to live the life you want to. The reason that you finally agreed to go an adventure, via Gandalf's request. Not that the leader of the group, that you'd be joining on this adventure, did not like the fact that a hobbit was joining , let alone alone you, a human, female. Not impressed to say the least.
You had just ignored the tree trunks insults, and seeking the company of the small hobbit. Both of you were in the same position, except you could maybe launch Thorin over a cliff.
Unknowingly Thorin had created a friendships, well between you, Bilbo, Fili and Kili. After you and Bilbo had decided to mock Thorin in secret.
"Wait, wait, I've got one." Standing up placing one leg on the log, hands on hips, head up , shaking you head slowly as if the wind was blowing it. "How's my hair?" Mocking Thorins low voice, looking at Bilbo who had stopped giggling, moving his eyes crazily to gesture behind you.
Turning your head slightly, to see Thorin staring at you. " Can I help you?" Unmistakable using a lower voice than normal, Thorin scrunched his brows together slightly. "What are you up to?" His eyes glazing over your stature, and posture.
"Oh, If you must know, Bilbo has been making sure that my family jewels have not dropped off due to my massive ego, last time he had to stitch them up because I am such a prick. Not that I could produce because I'm like 160." Maintaining eye contact with Thorin, chest fully pressed into the air, basically superhero pose, now off the log.
Thorin did not understand what you were talking about. "Get your things , we are moving on." Bilbo had just covered his mouth facing down, his eyes looking up.
“Do not test me , Y/n, I will throw you off a cliff, as if you was an end of bread. You are not worthy of this journey," Kili and Fili had been sat by, watching the scene unfold, as Thorin just stared at you. Kili walking over to you.
"Uncle!"
"My sisters son," Pulling Kili into a bear hug, him being the little bear, before pushing him off of you. "Get of me, people will think I'm soft, I am pure steel." You had not even noticed Thorin leaving.
"That was horrible," It really was, could you be anymore cringy? "You annoyed Uncle though, I am surprised he didn't put you into line." Fili didnt speak much, but when he did, it wasn't useless trivia.
"My arms may have no muscle, but does not mean I couldn't carry both Bilbo and Kili to their horses." Okay, maybe you would be able to actually, but it gained the trios attention. "I highly doubt that, y/n"
Bending your knees so that your back was in front of Kili, hands ready to grab his calves. "Y/n, are you sure? I don't want you t-"" we don't have all day, Kili."
" okay, Thorin." You had scoffed, as Kili had managed to get on your back, arms around your neck, legs around your front. "No, no,no not me." Bilbo shook his head furiously, in disagreement , as you gestures for him to get up. "Bilbo , please." Bilbo had sighed , as Fili watched you then pick up Bilbo, holding him Bridal style.
It was like carrying nothing, it was definitely a lot of weight, yet you still put in a face and walked through camp with them. Even if you couldn't fight, you weren't completely weak.
You had gained the attention of the dwarves, who Kili waved by in excitement , Bilbo just pretend to be dead in embarrassment. Thorin had caught your eye for a second as you walked by him, lift Bilbo onto his pony, Thorin told you pack, you were packing...Kili had then gotten off your back when you had kneeled down.
But what you didn't know, was that Thorin eyes were on you most of everyday during the the journey, you just happened to be oblivious to the gazes on you.
If you did catch Thorins gaze, you just thought that he was judging your actions,others picked up on their kings behaviour. Though they did not tell you, they did tease Thorin. Well only Dwalin , Kili and Fili dared to. Actually it was Bilbo who noticed first.
It was probably a few days after almost being eaten by trolls, that Thorin had began to develop feelings. At first he had just thought that you were mildly annoying like his nephews, that impression, was terrible. But once you were all captured by trolls...
You had pretended to be dead, the trolls had tossed you aside, and every time they were not looking you would crawl slightly. Tossing you aside for dessert. Thorin had caught this. Pulling faces as at him, as you slowly got closer, Thorin watching for the trolls.
When you had gotten next to Thorin, you had pulled a knife from you pocket , cutting the sack he was in. You had cut through quite a bit of the sack; when Thorin had pulled his hands out lifting you , shoving you into the sack with him, just as Berts eyes had glided over the dwarves.
That was when the trolls had noticed you had disappeared, but you were stuffed into the bottom of Thorins sack. You were too tall for the sack, your legs curled up, back inbetween Thorins legs. "Where is the human?!" The trolls had began to looking around finding no sign of you ,the moved on soon enough.
"Uh...the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is um..." Bilbo had tried to distract the trolls , after seeing Gandalf of course you couldn't see , you could only smell Thorin.
"Uh...not...not that one, he...he's infected!"
"You what?"
"Yeah he's got worms in his...tubes."
"Ooh!"
"In-in fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites, it's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."
"Parasites? Did he say parasites?" The dwarves were not the smartest bunch to say the least.
"Yeah, we don't have parasites! You have parasites!"
Thorin had realised that Bilbo is trying to buy them time and kicks Kili, but ends up smacking you with his calf, making you groan , only for Thorin to gently squeeze your shoulder, the trolls had been too busy listening to dwarves , that they never heard your quiet groan.
Gandalf soon had arrived, saving you all as always, the trolls turned to stone. It didn't take long for Bilbo to realise you were missing still. "Where's y/n?"
"I'm over here, Bilbo." You could not get out of the sack neither could Thorin, without someone helping you out. Kili being next to Thorin, had heard your voice, turning to see his uncles, feet looking a bit too pointy. "Where?"
Bilbo had turned in circles in search, Thorin just later there with the most unimpressed face.
"Bilbo, she's over here." Bilbo had hoped over , out of the sack, before opening the sack at the top to allow Thorin could shuffle out. Standing up, Thorin had pulled you up and out by your hand.
"T-thanks, um, your thighs are very comfortable, if I was murderer , I would make them into pillows. Oh, um, thanks , uh," your face flushed pink, noticing how you sounded and that both Bilbo and Kili was right next to you. Sometimes you are ought to think before you speak, a common term taught to children, yet you do not. You had rushed off back to camp, after that.
Tis was a compliment to dwarves for a woman to comment on their thighs or stature.
That was it, Thorin began to notice things about you, you helping Bilbo onto his pony when he needed help, even if he didn't directly ask. The way you'd slip on mud , even if it was dry, save yourself and look around wide eye if anyone had seen. How your arms got tired as you'd try to plait your hair. Slapping Kili gently on the back of the head if he said something mean about one of the others. Normally Kili picked on Ori's knitting .
Of course, Thorin thought his affections only went one way. You could not deny, the dwarven king was intoxicating, you were highly attracted to him. He was a mean guy, no he was not , he didn't want Bilbo to get killed going in this journey to help him.
You hadn't spoken to Thorin directly really, well until he allowed the company to stop at an
inn for the night, which everyone was happy about. The Dwarves were mostly excited for ale. You just hoped they had a deep clean...
Luckily they did , and soon everyone was a sat tables in the pub, 3 separate ones, you being stuck next to Thorin ,Bilbo next to you, Bofur next to him,Kili and Fili so on. Next came the ale, being pushed in front of you all.
Bilbo asked for a tea, but Bofur wouldn't have it, so there sat Dildo sipping at the pint of ale. Whilst everyone drank down theres soon enough, you just drinking it , because you was shoved against Thorin. After your fourth ale that's when you heard it.
A noise like a hurricane , the soaring winds of the mans pipes opened.
"Oh
Oh, yeah
Ziggy played guitar
Jamming good with Weird and Gilly
And the Spiders from Mirkwood
He played it left hand
But made it too far
Became the special man" Looking over to the small stage, a skinny man, with a huge blond Mohawk stood, his bare chest exposed showing a large pendant on his lower chest.
"Then we were Ziggy's band
Ziggy really sang
Screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo
Like some cat from Japan
He could lick 'em by smiling
He could leave 'em to hang" Your breath hitched, as your eyes travelled down to his pants, he wore a legging type pants, showing off everything
"They came on so loaded, man
Well-hung and snow-white tan
So where were the spiders
While the fly tried to break our bones?
With just the beer light to guide us
So we bitched about his fans
And should we crush his sweet hands?" The dwarves and hobbit noticed your change, following your eyes to the man on stage.
"Do you know him?" Fili had snapped you out of your trance quickly, "o-oh, um, I haven't seen him for a long time."
"Who is he, lass?" Thorin said nothing just stared back between you and the man, as you kept glancing at him. Bofur had waited for your reply, calling over more ales. "my best friend ." That was the truth, not that anyone knew but you had wished yourself away to the goblins, thus a friendship bloomed.
Growing up you didn't have many friends, you still don't , Jareth was always there for you, you didn't want to out him being a fae.
"He was the nazz
With God-given ass
He took it all too far."
That's when he caught your eye, sending you a wink before continuing to sing with ease.
Half an hour later, you were starting to feel a little more free, after more ale, leaning onto Thorin for support.
"There's such a sad love
Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel
Open and closed." Jareth had started his 15 song of the evening, you had jumped up, well start up. "Thorin! Come on, let's dance." You had pushed him slightly. "Why?"
"Just come on, 'deep in your eyes a kind a pale eye,' that's you so you must dance with me, please." Thorin had finally had budged , standing up, his eyes were gems indeed. You had grabbed onto Thorins hand pulling him onto the cleared floor. You didn't know how to dance not really, but it was the heat of the moment. Well actually you had danced with Jareth during his masquerade.
"Within your eyes
There's such a fooled heart
Beatin' so fast." Placing one hand onto Thorins shoulder, the other into his hand, you could only hope you weren't making a fool of yourself. Jareth did like to be generous.
"In search of new dreams
A love that will last
Within your heart
I'll place the moon."
Looking into Thorins , bright eyes, which stared back into yours, you followed suit with steps , you hadn't realised that Jareth had changed your clothes into a white gown and sorted your hair, but the others and Thorin noticed. Following Thorins eyes down to your clothing you had get let out a snort.
"Within your heart
As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone" The dwarves hadn't seen Thorin dance since he was a prince, yet there he was with you dancing. Your eyes never leaving Thorins, as you danced in sync, turning together in a circular motion.
"I cannot wait for you to see Erebor." Thorin voice was quiet not to interrupt the music. You had grinned in confusion. "I thought you didn't want me on this quest? Why would you want me to see Erebor?"
"Wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you-ou-ou."
"So that you can attend a proper ball." You had smirked at the King, who just smiled at you.
"Well, you have got plenty of time to tell me all about Erebor, on this journey, that is if you speak to me after this."
"As the world falls down
Falling."
"As you wish." Thus you both just went back to just dancing smiling a little more now.
"As the world falls down
Falling
Falling in love." Though there was a room full of people surrounding you, it felt as if you were in your own world. Your own crystal...
"I'll paint you mornings of gold
I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now
We're choosing the path
Between the stars." You could only hope that everyone would make it to Erebor...
"I'll leave my love
Between the stars
As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone
Wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you-ou-ou
As the world falls down" As the song finished, you had pressed a kiss to Thorins cheek, Jareth was having a break, you had let go of Thorin, telling him you'd be right back.
Still in your puffy gown, you had made your way over to Jareth standing at the bar with a glass of what could only be described as some sort of rose fancy drink, fit for a fae king. Jareth had placed the glass onto the side, holding his arms out for you.
Jumping into his arms, spinning you around, legs up , before placing you back onto the floor. "Jareth, I missed you." Jareth grinned back you showing his teeth , "as have I missed you, so you and the dwarven king?" Jareth had looked passed to you to Thorin, you looking back too to see Thorin glaring.
"Uh, I dont know, did you know we was going to be here?" Jareth had grinned larger, confirming his answer. "Come meet my friends quickly." You had grabbed Jareth by his hand leading him to your table.
The dwarves and the hobbit had looked up from their conversations, mostly with smiles. "Uh, guys , this is my best friend , Jareth, Jareth this is Bofur, Fili,Kili,Thorin and Bilbo." You had gave Jareth a side hug, he had clicked his fingers and you were in your regular clothes. " 'ello," Thorin had looked Jareth over as you squashed next to Thorin ,with Jareth next to you.
"So, what are you?" Kili bluntly asked,staring at Jareth in interest. "He's the g-ubli- king." Jareth had silenced you for a second blurring the word Goblin. "I'm sorry , what?" Bilbo Baggins was always intrigued by others, especially if you looked like Jareth. "He is a king."
"Of what."
"Now that , Bofur, is for you to figure out." Jareth was indeed a confusing, mysterious man, he seemed to have sobered the dwarves up.
"How did you do that with the dress?"
"You are a very curious lot , aren't you? - "
Jareth could be nasty, you were surprised with his behaviour.
"Well, then how did you meet him , y/n/n?"
" she wished to be taken."
"...Y-you are th-" Bilbo knew he had heard of the man he had heard sing, his books had had came in use. But again Jareth had cut Bilbo off, he knew what Dwarves were like.
"Clever hobbit."
Now, my love, if you need me you know what to do." Jareth had turned to you , pulling you into a hug, looking at Thorin, with a devilish grin. Only if you had know what he had put into Thorins head.
Really he just said, "I will turn you into pie for my Goblins, if you hurt my y/n." That was it, he was gone, you had been hugging air for a good second, before turning back to the group of men , who just stared at you.
"Uh? What?" Bofur, Kili and Fili exchanged looks of agreement.
"You and that strange man, yep, that definitely happened." The smirk inlaced into Kili's voice, as he stared at ,waiting for a response. You had only scoffed at " I'll call him back, and you ask him, I'm sure you'd him to make you into a pie for his Goblins." In that moment, Thorin had realised that Jareth, wasn't just a thin stick, he clearly had fed someone to his Goblins before, Thorin didn't want to find out if that was true.
Thus, the subject was dropped, and that was it,though the other dwarves wanted to know what just happened, and Gandalf didn't give a shit or already knew.
Well that was it until you had all left Rivendell , clean for now, only to get captured by Goblins.
No way were they anything like the unwanted children, absolutely. Stuck next to Thorin, you stuck out being human, wishing you had stumbled onto the actual Goblin king. Thorin had pulled you down and shielded you from the whips.
You could only wish... but you didn't Gandalf saved you all again.
Back on the road again, until Thorin gets chewed up by a warg, you rushing towards him, as the dwarves fought off the wargs and orcs. Only for the eagles to arrive , seeing an eagle fly at you and Thorin, you had laid careful onto him. The eagle swooping you both up . "Hey Thorin, are you alive? maybe I can use those thighs a scarf sometime?"
Thorin did not wake up, until Gandalf had done some magic shit, him and Bilbo became best friends.
Then you were all captured...again, by the worst kind of elves. Dumb blonds, no, Thranduil was just a dick. All of you were stripped down to one layer , all but Thorin and you , were shoved into cells. You was asked the general question, why are you travelling with dwarves, well actually that was it.
You had pretended to faint. When Thranduil stood over your head to see your face, you had pretended to wake up, punching him right in the dick. "O-oh my I-"
"Take them away!" Thorin was surprised you were not executed on the spot, oh how he tried to hide his laughter, as the elven knelt in agony ,and you were both dragged away. Shoved into a cage today, before the elves stomped away. Of course , Balin asks Thorin what happened, instead of telling him what you had done, he had simply said about him shouting in Khuzdul.
" Hey, are you coming to my execution tomorrow? I wonder if my last words should be 'being an elf there's only one down fall, once you get to Thranduils age, your cock shrivels up ," Thorin had snorted , and that is when he saw it, your hair...looked like radagasts hair ,but without poop and birds.
Thorins eyes had stared too long, it was clear to you, you were just talking to him, of course you'd see him staring. Your hair. Well yes that was embarrassing, a king was literally making fun of your hair by his silent judging.
"You're judging my hair? Did you not see radagasts?" Thorin had snapped out of this stare, realising what he had been doing, a light blush upon his face. "You are right, " that's he had said, and went back to looking at your hair.
Sighing you had sat on the cold stone, let again breaking Thorins stare. "Are you going to do my hair or just stand there?"
"Are you sure?" Accepting his offer Thorin was quickly sat behind you, combing your hair, of course you didn't know about dwarvish customs. You didn't know you had just accepted his courtship,but you had.
It wasn't long before your hair was braided completely , and just as you had stood up Ori had spoken up. Though you didn't here what he had said but you had heard Bilbo. "Not in here your not." A jingle of the keys and you were free, well lead to the cellars while the others questioned Bilbo.
Soon enough well when Thorin had convinced the dwarves to get in the barrels, via Bilbos request, leaving just you and Bilbo out. Until Thorin had gestured you over, helping you inside the Barrel, but you stuck out more than the others,you wondered why Bilbo didn't get in one with one of the other dwarves. You barely in the barrel when Bilbo had pulled the lever,gripping onto Thorins shoulders as you were both submerged for a spilt second. Thus, you were off , trying to escape the elves , squished against the dwarven king, that you had unknowingly courted.
Kili was shot, and Bombur did some extreme parkour, and boom you had reached land. Soaking, freezing, lucky your hair was all braided back, thanks Thorin. Stopping to allow Kili's leg to be wrapped up , to prevent further blood loss.
Dwalin had almost give you a heart attack ,as you stood twisting the water out of your clothing. "Who did you hair ,lass?" He had basically popped up beside you , inspecting your braids , his voice louder and powerful.
Looking at the dwarf, who looked right back waiting for your answer , already knowing the answer. "Thorin did, why?" Dwalin only hummed before returning to his brother, him surprisingly whispering to his brother, Fili and Kili had looked at each other in disgust. Even though Kili was supposedly in pain.
"Do that again and you're dead." Snapping your head up, to the unfamiliar voice..was that orlando bloom? A human, a man with shaggy dark hair, worn out clothes , beautifully structured face. Boom, you had been able to board passage on his barge.
"Why is a woman travelling with 13 dwarves and a hobbit?" You had coughed, turning around to face Bard, you weren't very sure what you was supposed to say. "Well, um-" " She's travelling with us because she's betrothed to uncle." Fili had spoken up, saving you from revealing everything, still you had turned to Fili, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Fili and Kili smirked.
"You are courting a dwarf?" Thorin had scoffed, as Bard kept his eyes on the lake, his tone was almost unimpressed. "Well, I almost fucked a fae s-" "y-y/n! That's not a-appropriate." Bilbo had choked out, without a thought.
"Come on, Gaggins, did you not see the pants he wore? His magic-"
"Enough." Thorin had interrupted you sharply, snapping your head towards the clearly annoyed King, walking over to him, punching his cheek. "Awwe, jealous of Jareth? You have a lot to live up to. Does your dick grow even after erecttion? I call it his magic c-"
" Hold on." Bilbo had pointed his pipe at you, staring at you, " How do you know that?" Bilbo had coughed again , with his cheeks red trying not to cry. "Don't tell him, maybe I held eye contact with not his eyes many times without him noticing , plus I asked him if he could grow tall as a house, and he said yeah, so I just assumed. I swear 100% I never walked in -"
"Hello, love." You had jumped out of your skin, turning around, there stood Jareth, your face flushed red, shoving him gently. "Oh- , not nice Jareth, could've died from shock." Jareth only ignored you, looking at your hair, his hand skimming over it , in interest.
"I heard you speaking of my cock, y/n/n, I'm flattered, but with those braids , I'm afraid you are no position to be making advances on me." Lips slightly touching your eyes, as the vibrations of his whisper sent chills down your neck. “Well, what position do you want me in?” Pressing your back right against Jareths, his hot breath heightened onto your jeck. Thorin was fuming with anger, the dwarves didn’t know what to make of the situation.
“Y-y/n, enough do you not know what you have agreed to by those plaits?”
You had turned quickly pulling Jareth away from the dwarves, well as far you could get anyways. "W-what are you talking about? What about the plaits?" Jareth had laughed loudly, getting the attention of the the dwarves , as you reached up to touch the braids.
"Oh, love, you don't know. Those plaits especially when done by a dwarf , signifies courtship, you have accepted." Eyes widened at the king, as he smirked at you, laughing lightly.
"What do I do? I am courting a king, I mean it’s not like I don’t like him , it’s j-“
“You are just being dramatic, you both share affections for each other, so what’s the problem? You know what to do if you need me.”poof he was gone, again.
So you had made your way over to Thorin, pulling him to his feet by his tunic, his eyes wide, as you pressed your lips to his harshly. His hands making their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him, kissing you back.
Your hands now under his jaw, the company well, they were as you could expect...cheering loudly. Pulling away from his lips, still in his hold , as you looked into his bright blue eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That consenting you to braid my hair , meant that I accepted your courtship? I would’ve anyways, but I had to find out from Jareth, I thought that was just a ruse to explain why I was travelling with a bunch of dwarves.”
“Sorry, thought you knew.”
“You hear that Lads, she thought he braided her hair out of the kindness of his heart.” Company had burst into mocking laughter, but you and Thorin had ignored it.
“Well, if we are going to get married, I need the goblin king as our wedding singer.”
“Goblin king?”
“What? You didn’t know, Jareth is the goblin king. Not that wart of a goblin, “
Thorin had only stared at you.
“No, you can’t kill him, his dick would come off and fuck you in the ass.”
“I’m sorry, who’s dick would what?” Bilbo had popped up , with disgust and confusion upon his face.
#crossover#the hobbit imagine#the hobbit x reader#hobbit imagine#hobbit imagines#the hobbit imagines#the hobbit x y/n#labyrinth#slight#jareth x reader#thorin x y/n#thorin imagines#thorin imagine#thorin the dwarf#thorin x you#thorin x reader#thorin fic
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
No. 1
Requested by: @mirukobecomingbothered
I might have gotten carried away with the headcanon, I'm sorry! 🥺🥺 I added a few twists of my own and I hope it reached your expectations. I hope you like it! ♥️♥️♥️
Pairings: Hitoshi Shinsou x reader, Katsuki Bakugou x reader
Status: Unedited
Genre: Fluff with a tiny weeny bit of angst.
Quick Background:
An outcast because of a 'villainous' quirk? Check.
Do you have friends? Not sure if you can call them your friends when they are all blithering idiots who want to mess with the spirits.
Does everyone think that you will be a villain someday? Every time.
Is everyone afraid of you because you look like you've been dead for the past five years but still walking above ground? Absolutely!
When do people see your cat do they automatically think that you are a witch? Yes, but more like a demon in disguise.
You shrugged them off, your quirk might be on the freaky and terrifying side but it is powerful.
Contrary to popular belief, ghosts are nice, most of the time. Maybe a bit clingy and attention seeker towards you since you are the only one who can see and hear them.
They are a nice company to be around. Most of them.
There was a time you used to hate your quirk, there never seems to be a privacy when you see those supernatural things.
You see things you wish you couldn't, things that can go beyond your imagination.
Everyone thinks the worst in you, and there are days when they get to you.
When that happens, the ghosts always have your back.
You try your best to prove them wrong, and when you got into UA and placed top 5 in the sports festival, some perspective changed, and some called you a freak.
Though they are all wimps since they can't say it directly in your face or around your friends, especially your boyfriend.
Lord knows what'll happen when someone talks shit about you around them.
They probably met Jesus soon after.
Shinsou Hitoshi
Straight off the bat, your favourite date, past time, and other couple activities are sleeping.
Him catching up on his well-deserved sleep and you calm your mind from everything.
Nothing in between.
Naps in the couch, beside the window, your rooms, maybe beside the window in the common room after stargazing.
You have to pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands.
This sleepy boi understands the pain and suffering you go through the best, especially since he's been there.
Both of you start as acquaintances.
You met him when your cat decided to give you a heart attack by running off to who knows where and not coming back for h o u r s.
It freaked you out since staying out late is unlikely of your lazy ass cat.
Despite your fatigue from training, you rushed outside to find them.
You didn't have to look for too long, you found them at the park accompanied by an Einstein inspired purple-haired guy with a UA uniform.
You let out a breath of relief, it didn't last long as anger bubbled up in your chest.
Yelling out their name that startled not only your cat and the guy, but the rest of the people at the park as well.
Shinso stared at you scolding your cat whilst bringing them in your arms.
Amused and curious at the same time.
Thinking that you took that TikTok meme "I'm alive but I'm dead" a little too far.
A chuckle that left his lips and your glare started a long interesting talk.
Both of you started eating lunch together at school with the Dekusquad.
A few teasing looks from Uraraka when he sat down beside you and greeted you before anyone else.
They started inviting him to your hangouts outside of the school and study dates.
It happened almost every day once he transferred from class 1-A.
A month after that Uraraka and Kaminari started teasing the both of you.
It confused you when they made a big deal about you and Shinsou spending more time with each other than the rest of the class.
It only confused you further when Shinsou started blushing every time you look at him or even go anywhere near him.
He finally confessed to you when both of you got stuck in the closet playing 7 Minutes In Heaven.
It was hard to listen to him because of the endless teasing of your ghost friends.
They approved of him the moment he talked and looked at you like a normal human being.
Shinsou as a friend was protective of you, knowing all of the nasty looks and what people say about you because of something uncontrollable.
And now that you're his girlfriend? Oh boy, haters can run but they can't hide.
He is the most chill person you will ever meet.
But once you decided to talk shit about his girl, just pray my dude.
Or beg for mercy.
If they are one in a million lucky ones, it might work.
But they're not so.
Not even Aizawa can stop him, cause he will turn blind eye.
Nobody talks shit to any of his children students and stay alive to tell the tale.
The both of you are his prodigies, they know nothing of the hard work you both put in your training with him.
You and your boyfriend are the best in stealth missions and gathering information.
You use your friends to gather information undetectable and Shinsou tricking the villains to brainwash them.
In short, you guys are the power couple of Class 1-A and everyone agrees.
A force to be reckoned with.
Besides, no one can pull off the cosplay of Morticia and Gomez Addams better than both of you can.
You rely on each other when times get rough and needed reassurance.
Being each other's rock to hold on and find comfort in.
Shinsou will wrap his arms around you as you spill everything to him.
Reassuring you that you are his hero, muttering sweet things in your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down, and humming you to sleep.
He knows what it feels like to hate something that is apart of you.
And he tries his best to make you see the best in the worst you think of yourself.
Everything about you is beautiful, nothing that is apart of you is worth hating.
Honestly, you couldn't wish for anyone better to be your significant other.
They can call you anything they want, but you will always be an angel in his eyes.
All of them can keep talking, and he finds great pleasure once they see your true power and find themselves speechless.
"That's my girl."
Bakugou Katsuki:
Not gonna lie, he will probably think that you are a zombie or somewhat related to them.
From the moment you walked through the door, slouched back, droopy red eyes, panda-like eye bags underneath, paper white skin that is unhealthy to look at, he was certain that you are going to collapse at any given moment.
He scoffed, wondering how the hell you managed to get into UA, let alone the Hero class.
Were you even in the right class or are you just that tired to not see that huge ass sign at the door?
Either way, he didn't care.
So long as you don't stand in his way from being the best, which is highly unlikely to happen in his eyes.
So imagine his shock when you managed to score higher than him in the Physical Assessment Test.
What in the hell?
"Hey, freak bitch! How the hell did you score higher than me?! What are you playing at?!"
Kirishima immediately held him back and apologized profusely to you.
Bakugou's anger at you only increased when you only stared at him blankly before rolling your eyes and walked away.
Throughout the rest of the day, whenever he tries to call you or even go near you, he finds himself tripping over nothing or his things randomly dropping.
To say it freaks him out will be an understatement.
However, that didn't stop him from pestering you.
Constantly asking yelling- at you demanding your quirk and challenging you for a fight.
You're nonchalant response and sassy remarks only ticked him off.
The two on two activity was useless since you did nothing and Todoroki handled the rest.
Cue the USJ incident and he is finally satisfied when he saw your quirk at first hand.
Skeletons rising from the ground and villains mysteriously flying away from you when they get too close to you.
He immediately put everything together and he is ecstatic.
An unusual quirk but powerful nonetheless.
Katsuki finds himself watching you in the classroom and during training.
Finding your quirk nothing short of weird and curiosity of finding out how you use it is eating him alive.
Sometimes, he catches you talking to yourself and it only makes him more curious.
And think that you are crazy.
The moment you agreed to challenge him was the beginning of your friendship.
He overheard a few girls that you went to school with talking about your hideous appearance and quirk when walking towards the school for training.
A slight twinge in his heart when he saw you, although your face didn't reveal anything, your eyes sure did.
He dragged you by the arm to go faster and reassured you in his blunt way.
After that training with Bakugou became a routine.
The Bakusquad saw you both walking out of the park.
You declined their offer of going out saying that you have something to do and Bakugou just saying that he's not interested in going.
So the teasing of when both of you will make it official happens every. Single. Day.
Be it weekends or weekdays.
They will not stop their teasing even if they are on the verge of death.
Your bond with Katsuki strengthened when you came to rescue him from the villains and when he failed the Provisional License exams.
You were the first one to notice his change and the first and only one to confront him.
He was shocked.
He thought he had it hidden well but not to you.
At first, he was hesitant to tell you anything. But one hug from you and his walls came crashing down.
After that incident, you came to each other to open up.
You told him how you hate your quirk sometimes. Seeing things that gives you nightmares and paranoia.
In a short but somewhat sweet way, he told you about how those fears make you a stronger person. Physically and mentally.
He's by your side no matter what happens, he won't let you go through this alone.
To further emphasize it, he gave you a one arm hug.
He asked you out a few weeks later, quietly and all blushy face which was the first for him.
Of course you said yes.
You both agreed to keep your relationship a secret from everyone until Halloween where - much to everyone's surprise- he joined in.
The real icing on the cake was when they saw you both in a cliche couple, Harley Quinn and Joker.
Mina and Kirishima were the first ones to realize and Denki being the last.
You are practically inseparable after you relieved your relationship.
Anyone who talks badly about you and your quirk won't last long in the face of the earth.
Katsuki Bakugou is already explosive enough as he is, and you decided to talk shit about the love of his life?
Girl/Boy bye.
I hope you crossed everything off your bucket list cause the last thing you will see and hear is the sound of his explosions.
He once asked you about what your spirits think of him.
You were silent for a while before you replied, "I don't think you wanna know."
You know he won't stop there, he kept pestering you, again and again, every chance he gets to ask.
Annoyed you told him.
"They think you are a crusty pomeranian and they find you amusing since it's a miracle that you still have your voice after al those yelling."
They like annoying him, whenever you both are alone, they whisper things to you that'll get you to giggle and he'll angrily question what they were talking about.
Making his things fall or mess with his hair.
They like him for you.
As long as he keeps you safe and happy, they'll keep him safe and sound.
From the villains and the bad spirits.
Random:
You have the perfect quirk to scare the living hell of your friends and family during Halloween season.
Who are you to deny the advantages of it. 😏😏😏
Various crosses and other blessed items by the priest litter around your room to keep the spirits away.
#Request#hitoshi shinso headcanons#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi shinso x y/n#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou headcanons#bakugou katsuki headcanons
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dust Tomorrow will be late
I've been a bit distracted this week, as many have. And I'm going to do what I do best and word vomit the reason why here- because I fuckin can. And because I have stood on Alaskan ground and looked at Russian ground (Just not from the Sarah Palin's home in Wasilla, Alaska...) so I've got some fuckin feelings.
You see, I grew up in Alaska. Part of growing up in Alaska is having friends from all over the world- not because of the glorious power of the internet (though the internet has certainly done wonders to expand our global social networks) but because Alaska was and continues to be where many people from many places settle. We have a rich Eastern Asian community. There are vibrant communities of Pacific Islanders.
And there is a long history with Eastern Europeans. With RussiaGrowing up in Alaska means knowing that Russia is only 55 miles away at its closest point. Growing up in Alaska means knowing that the closest not Alaska places (Including other states...) are Canada (we share a boarder) and Russia. You *can* swim to Russia across the Bering straight. See below where Russia and Alaska are reaching out for each other- no not that chain of islands that make up Alaska's beard though if I remember right the last like four of those are Russian but no one lives on most of those especially the ones off in the ocean- they're tiny rocks that get battered by storms so we don't count those. Also, not all of Alaska is pictured- there's a whole bottom handle that goes off to the lower right but some of Canada made it into the shot- Hi Canada!
Speaking of Russia being so close to Alaska you can see it- 160ish years ago, Russia actually OWNED Alaska. They sold it to America. The man spearheading this sale was William Seward (He even has a little town in Alaska named after him!) who got endless crap. The deal was known as Seward's Folly and Alaska was known as Seward's Icebox- many people thought the USA just wasted a bunch of money on useless land- it's arctic, the weather kinda sucks most of the year and the top third of the state almost never thaws but is technically a desert because it gets so little snow too.
There was the gold rush (and no lie, we're still mining gold. This bitch has been there, done that) and they found oil. YAY oil.
A lot of generational Alaskans are descended from Russians. My bio mom's ex husband is Russian- from a town like 350ish miles from that small stretch of the Bering Sea that separates us from them, actually. For scale, it is 364 miles from Anchorage, Alaska where I grew up to Fairbanks, Alaska where my daughter was born. This is not even half the height of the state of Alaska.
His mother is in Russia still. His father was Ukrainian. His father's family is in Ukraine now, still. Well, most of them, some have left the country. Others are fighting.
I have friends who are Russian and their families are still in Russia. I have friends in Russia- three of which have been arrested for protesting this week. The ruble has gone from being worth around $18USD to being worth less than a penny. I worry about how my friends will afford food and goods in the long term as sanctions batter their county.
I have friends who are Ukrainian and whom still have family in Ukraine. I have friends in Ukraine now- one of which hasn't touched base with anyone in almost 48 hours. I have friends who are fighting, who's family has members fighting.
Many Alaskans are like me and have connections to one or both countries either directly or through friends.
Never mind the fact that the USA maintains multiple military bases in Alaska and if *we (usa)* piss off the dictator, it's well understood that there will be problems. In Anchorage, the largest city, there is a joint Air force and Army base. North of the second largest city is the other Airforce base.
It's lowkey known that these are staffed and manned pretty much as punishment for people that piss their bosses off (They get paid for being "abroad" without any of the cool travel- many don't like it lol) their purpose is to be easy striking distance to Russia and less but still easy striking distance to North Korea.
So not only am I worried about my friends and my sorta family in both Russia and Ukraine, my bio mother lives in Anchorage and my adoptive mother lives in Fairbanks. If the USA gets *involved* in this (which many want them to do- it's probably the first time in a long time there's been *conflict* and we haven't stuck our military into it), there is a solid risk that Russia will make an example out of Alaska. Oh and we're massive oil producers so Russia could also bomb the North Slope or if they wanted to be a little more chill, just bomb a segment of the TransAlaska Pipeline (that long ass tube that goes from the tippity top of Alaska to the bottom and brings oil down)
It's very unlikely that Russia will strike Alaska unless things deteriorate and NATO nations receive any aggression- forcing this to become a world war.
But we're very much aware. We are scared for our international friends and family.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Yup, that's what I'm trying to explain to people, but it doesn't work, bevause they're stuck in their oppressor/oppressed mentality. The people is power are at least over 50, which means they were born in the 60s. For example, a lot of them were already alive at the abolition of the apartheid in the US. You can't expect them to have the same mentality of the young generation who never lived through that. You can't expect their children to have the mentality you want because they were directly...
taught by the precedent generation. You need to wait, even it hurts, because 50 or even 100 years are nothing in the grand scheme of things. You don't change mentalities by snapping your fingers. I'm not saying, stop doing activism, of course, you need to so some to improve things. I'm saying, come back in a century to see how things will have changed in the long term. You don't do changes for your life, you're doing it for the people after you.
This truth right here. I have nothing to add. Or, well, you do it for the people you can help in the now, to the extent you can help. But nothing will change by sitting on your ass all day bitching on a site nobody cares for. It’s all just bitching and no action. It’s useless and it only spreads negativity, to the point of making shit up in order to complain, or doing oppression olympics and ignore the people who have it way worse. We praise Malala, but then we do nothing to help her cause. Because it’s about someone else, and current mainstream feminism is only concerned with perpetrating itself. And that defeats the whole concept of activism.
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
joker11940
The Joker
joker11940
The Joker
icy-nieves
Icy says
jerkwithmomass
JerkwithMomAss
sogukhavalarinadami
Soğuk Havaların Adamı