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Oh my god. Yes

Pink (m)

Written for my 1 year anniversary drabble game

prompts by anonymous: Seokjin + pink, and “Stop undressing me with your eyes! Use your teeth”

Warning: smut

Word Count: 4,517

Kim Seokjin is the perfect boyfriend in every aspect of the word. He cooks, he cleans, he drives you around to wherever you need to go, and he’s the greatest arm candy any girl could ever hope for. And you are helplessly in love with this perfect gentleman.

On your first date, you expected him to drive you to a secluded part of the lake and try to fondle you under your dress like all the other fuckboys you’ve unfortunately dated. To your surprise, he actually takes you out of the car and reveals an intricate picnic set up on the shore. He doesn’t even attempt to kiss you until two weeks later.

It is not until your one hundred day anniversary until Jin has sex with you for the first time. It takes weeks of begging him and feeble attempts at seduction before he finally gives in. You make love for the first time on crisp white sheets and rose petals, scented candles lighting up the night. Jin is unbelievably gentle the entire time, stroking your hair and murmuring sweet encouragements in your ear. You’re in tears by the time he finally enters you, nearly an hour later.

Afterwards, a small part of you suspects that it was all just an act. An intricate plot to get into your pants. But now that he’s had you, there’s no way he’ll continue to be so romantic and gentle. You expect quickies in the car and blowjobs until your throat tears apart. To your utmost surprise, nothing changes, even as sex begins to play a central role in your relationship. He never fails to treat you with the utmost respect, as though you are a porcelain doll in his hands.

Sex with Kim Seokjin consists of hand-holding, gazing into each other’s eyes, and sweet murmurs of "I love you.” You’ve never been so happy your entire life, and every time he stares down at you with those warm amber eyes so full of love, you feel like your heart might burst.

You assume that this is simply Jin’s personality type. Filthy thoughts that seem to consume every other nasty little boy simply don’t appeal to him. He’s a gentle giant who only wishes to worship his princess… But then his façade begins to crumble.

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Oh yes indeed. You deliver every single time

English Literature (m)

A/N: request fill for this prompt

Smart ass Namjoon college AU + smut

Warnings: Graphic smut 

Word Count: 7,606

Sequel: Like Pavlov’s Dogs

The first time you see him is in the bookstore you work in over summer vacation. It’s a lazy Wednesday afternoon, and classes haven’t started yet. As a result, the tall, handsome stranger catches your attention when he walks into the store. He spends about half an hour in the store, before checking out, and you don’t think much of it. You’re bored and can’t wait for your shift to be over so you curl up in bed with a glass of wine.

But then, after you hand him his change and receipt, he thanks you and flashes you a million watt smile that blinds you for a few seconds. You’re mesmerized by his dimples and the contrast of his pearly white teeth against his tan skin, and are left babbling incoherently as he collects his books and leaves. You curse yourself and promise that you’ll work up the courage to talk to him someday.

He visits the bookstore on a regular basis afterwards, but you manage to get your shit together and act like a normal person. But in your mind, you’ve nicknamed him “dimples guy” and always pray that he checks out at your stand whenever he visits.

A week before the semester starts, he shops at the bookstore again, this time wearing a pair of round wire glasses that makes him look so cute that you almost swoon when he checks out at your line. You try not to stare too hard and busy yourself with checking out his books. But you’re surprised when you realize that the books he is purchasing aren’t his usual philosophy or ancient history books. Today, he’s purchasing stacks of Jane Austen novels.

“Oh, that’s a lot of Jane Austen,” You exclaim before you can help yourself. It’s the first thing you’ve ever said to him, besides the perfunctory greetings you’re required to say to every customer.

He laughs at your reaction, and the deep timber of his voice makes your toes curl, “Yeah, I know, right?”

You struggle to find something interesting to say, to continue the conversation, but when you stumble over your suddenly too-big tongue, he collects his books and leaves with a little wave. You sigh and get back to work. You had promised yourself to get a name and a phone number, but there’s always next time, right?

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That. Was. The. BEST SUPERNATURAL FIC I'VE READ IN MONTHS!! It was incredibly spicy, sexy, and just had that je n'ai s'est quoi, i loved it. Now I'm gonna binge all your works

A Vampire and a Werewolf Walk Into a Bar (m)

Nonsense supernatural smut trash based on Namjoon’s sinfully sexy aristocratic vampire concept in BST. 

Warning: Graphic smut

Word Count: 6,538

“You’re late,” Namjoon greets you when you come rushing into the bar, windswept and breathless.

You frown at your cell phone as you clamber up on a barstool next to him, “What are you talking about? No I’m not!”

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at you before reaching over to wipe a smudge of dirt off of your screen, making you realize that you’ve mistaken the 8 on the clock as a 0. “Oh, shit…”

“You should get a watch.”

“What?” You wrinkle your nose in distaste, “Why would I bother if I have my phone?”

“You kids these days don’t value time. What were you doing before this, ___-ah? Checking your social media?”

You shoot him a wry glare as you flag down the bartender to order a drink, “Yah, did you just speak to me informally? How old are you anyways?”

He simply smiles and takes another sip of his red wine, “Older than you.”

You squint as you eye him up and down. But no matter how you look at him, he can’t be a day over 25, max. “Are you bloodsuckers all supposed to be polite or some shit? What’s wrong with you?”

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—suck it up! (m)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

⟶ genre: vampire!jungkook / college au / friends-to-lovers + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 9,784

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: being jungkook’s best friend means you’re used to his strange and chaotic ways but lately he’s been acting a little too strange, like thinking he’s turned into a vampire kind of strange.

⟶ warnings: pretty much a crack fic!!!, dumbass new world vampire jungkook who is completely incompetent as a vampire, general dumbass-to-lovers shenanigans, twilight references, sweet love making, dry humping, jungkook comes in his pants, riding, marking, biting, a brief mention of blood (so blood play?), breast play, fondling, possession kink??, oral sex (f receiving), cum eating, clit play, fingering, missionary, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: happy halloween!!!👻 to celebrate, here is my fic for the nightmare on tumblr.com collab with the lovelies @underthejoon @bratkook @junghelioseok​ @hobidreams @kpopfanfictrash @suga-kookiemonster !!! pls keep an eye out for their fics when they drop bc it’s going to be fangtastic! this fic was inspired by an old tumblr post i’ve seen but i’ve since lost the link to it! also dedicating this fic to the loml @rockwithwoo​ !! <3

Jungkook’s been acting strange lately.

Then again, Jungkook’s always been strange ━ like the text-you-at-all-hours-of-the day strange, drop by your house unannounced when it’s two in the morning and he’s craving burgers from the diner down the street strange; or send you one of his many unsolicited memes (yes, like quoting dead Vines and dumb Tiktoks and forwarding you horrendous selfies you’ve sent him and snapshots he’s taken of you when you’re least expecting it) from his repertoire at any given moment strange (because he seems to have a meme for every occasion. No, seriously. Like, every occasion).

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Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex 

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Thank you @readyplayerhobi​ for my super cute banner and @johobi​ for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.  

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi.  Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.  

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath.  Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.  

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.  

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall.  You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.  

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem.  We won, it’s ok.”  She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.  

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup.  She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.  

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds.  He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly  - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room.   She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it.  By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things.  A two-year relationship over, just like that. 

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned.  Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.  

And boy, does she know it.  You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.  

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet.  She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.”  Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.  

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Mm just delicious

By Its Cover (M)

The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression. 

Pairing: Jungkook x reader 

Warnings: Jungkook is actually an absolute sweetheart.  Smut; kissing, handjobs, fingering and unprotected penetrative sex. 

Word Count: 21K

Loitering at the edge of the curb that sits just outside your second-floor flat, you exhale a heavy sigh. There’s a long night at work ahead of you, no doubt; taking orders, making idle chitchat - standing on your feet for hours on end - and honestly, the idea of it has you feeling far less than enthused. 

It’s not as though you hate your job. The tips are good and the kitchen staff are skilled enough that you rarely ever have to deal with any complaints, and given that your parents own the place it’s not as though it’s ever a struggle to change your shift or take the day off. Still, some days even the most motivated employees don’t feel like working, and today is one of those days.

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you make sure to glance from left to right to check for oncoming traffic before succumbing to the lure of the sixth-inch screen now rested in your palm. You’re already smiling as you open the message that’s awaiting you; a reply from Namjoon confirming the plans you’d made to go see a film together this weekend - strictly as friends, of course. As handsome as Namjoon is, the two of you shared far too many childhood paddling pools growing up to ever be able to consider each other as anything more than the very best of friends - a good thing, really, considering he’s about as straight as a right angle.

You step off of the pavement, head bent low as your thumbs tap out a reply to the lightly teasing tone in which he so often texts you; so absorbed by the technology in your hand that you don’t even see the motorbike that’s speeding down the road, heading directly across your path. It’s not until it’s almost right on top of you that you even hear the engine’s roar, but as soon as your brain registers the sound it stops your body in its tracks, reflexively flinching backwards just in time to narrowly avoid being hit by anything more than a strong gust of wind as it careens past.

Panic-stricken, you very nearly drop your phone as you stumble back onto the safety of the pavement, hands shaking, and you don’t even really realise you’re yelling until people around you have started to stop and stare. The woman who’d seen it all happen and had originally begun to approach you to offer her aid has now thought better of it; crossing over to the other side of the road rather than deal with the adrenaline-fuelled rage that has you spewing a litany of curses after the motorcyclist and sticking your first and middle finger up in the air. You know he won’t be able to hear a word of it but you don’t let that stop you, only ending your tirade once his dot of dark hair has disappeared from sight and the sound of his motorbike has faded in the distance; a gentle, distant purr.

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Wraith

Part of the ‘ghouls just wanna have fun’ Halloween collab

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Word count: 13.3K

Summary:  A month or so of laser focus; that’s how long it should take to get it done.  No distractions, no procrastination… Short-term suffering for long-term success.   All work and no play never hurt anyone, right?

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of domestic abuse, rough, unprotected sex, violence, blood, character deaths

 “Last chance,” Yoongi warns as he pauses at the front door - key in hand - and turns back to look at you from under the brim of his cap.  “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Even to Yoongi, his voice sounds stern, but at least this way you can never say he didn’t give you fair warning.  He’s given you plenty of opportunities to cut and run - plenty of warnings you’ve done nothing but ignore.

“Jesus christ, Yoongs,” you laugh, snatching the bunch of keys straight out of his grasp and shoving him to the side with a bump of your shoulder against his, stumbling off the path straight into a patch of petunias.  “Since when did you get so dramatic?”

“I’m not being dramatic.”  Sulkily, he steps back onto the path and takes great care in scraping off mud from the bottom of his shoes against the edge of the concrete as you fiddle with the keys, unsure of which one belongs to the front door.  “I’m being realistic.”

“Pessimistic, you mean,” you interject, trying one key and then another, jiggling them in the lock.  

“Whatever,” Yoongi grunts, “But I mean it - I’m not stepping foot out of here ‘till it’s done.”  Yoongi can’t help but smile behind your back at how adorably exasperated you’re getting, huffing noisily as yet another key proves to be the wrong one.  “I’m gonna be grumpy. Aloof. A grade-A asshole.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, then,” you snark back, and god, Yoongi loves it when you bite back.  “A-ha!” You throw both hands up in the air without delight as the lock successfully clunks open, spinning on the spot to fix Yoongi with a dazzling smile that’s so cute it just about makes up for the smug gleam in your eyes.    

Picking up your bag from where you’d dropped it on the doorstep, you sling it over your shoulder before approaching him, planting a kiss to Yoongi’s lips that’s so firm it almost knocks him off his feet.  

“Like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” you inform him, and Yoongi’s forever grateful that you’ve no idea the way that makes his chest tighten to hear it.  “Besides,” you smirk, “Who else is gonna keep you from driving yourself mad?”

You might have a point there - not that Yoongi will ever admit it.  

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Delicious.

The Quest to Bedding the Lead Singer of Frontman

Pairing: You / Jungkook

Creative Contributor: @moonmangyu FOR THE PERFECT MOODBOARD *sweats* 

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex)

Warnings: (oral, dirty talk, slightly dom!kook?)

Word Count: 9,582

Summary: Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

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@readyplayerhobi truly depicts a love so pure, too good to be true, but so immersive that you feel each and every single emotion as hoseok discovers it. What an experience. Loved it

My Soul To Reap

; Reaper!Hoseok x Harpy!Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

; Word Count: 31k

; Warnings: Death, violence, mild gore, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie

; Synopsis: A reaper is neither alive nor dead, in this world or the next. Their purpose is to remove the souls of humans and help them pass to the next world. They are not meant to interact with the living for their touch is the ice of the grave and their kiss is to greet death. They are not meant to love.

; A/N: This is a behemoth…sorry it’s so long lol. I hope you all enjoy, I’ve been working on this for over a month now! Please reblog (if you can) so that others can see and read too. Please leave me likes, comments and asks to let me know what you think as I spent so long on it x-x also, remember to check out the other authors in the collab!

; Part of the Fantastical Tales for Curious Souls collab

-

The street is quiet when he appears; the air still and dead around him. Houses of varying shapes and sizes line the well trodden street before him, lamps with flickering flames dancing inside them hanging from poles and houses to light the way. Behind him lies a dense and foreboding forest, their trunks wide and their height tall as they tower over the small town like vigilant sentinels keeping an eternal watch.

But none of that is of particular interest to Hoseok. No, what interests him lies in the ramshackle house in front of him, the facade old with the thatched roof aging badly, threatening to fall through in some places. It wouldn’t be anything special to look at normally, the size and style of it denoting it to be the abode of someone from a lower class.

Hoseok had never understood why humans had such an interest in the cultural standing of others based on social hierarchy and money. It all seemed such a waste of their time to fret over such mundane things. Everyone died poor in the end as no one took anything with them when they passed. He knew that better than anyone.

Yet Hoseok finds he feels almost sad at the house, knowing that it had such an unassuming and unloved life. He wonders for a moment what will become of it before shaking his head, pushing the querying thought out of his mind. The daily lives of mortals were not his domain and therefore they were not of interest to him.

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Cirque de Mystère

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Ringmaster!AU

; Word Count: 8.3k

; Synopsis: Come one, come all to the Cirque de Mystère! Gorge yourselves on sweet treats and greasy food, succeed at our games and admire the view from the ferris wheel before joining us in the Big Top for a wondrous finale filled with surprises, fun and mystery that will take you back in time! Who know what you’ll find in our humble circus?

A/N: To celebrate Hobi’s birthday, enjoy an incredibly sweet and fluffy fic that is hopefully a little magical too. <3 Happy birthday to the light of all our lives, J-Hope!

Head slumping onto your folded arms that lay on the desk, you let out a deep and tired sigh before looking back at your computer screen. Hand coming to your forehead, you can’t help but rub at it forcefully to try and ease the headache that has been plaguing you for the last hour.

Eyes flickering down to the time showing in the lower right corner of your screen, a loud groan leaves your throat at the knowledge you still have three hours of work left.

“Ooh Y/N, you don’t sound too happy to be here” Jisoo laughs lightly from the desk opposite you. Sitting up straighter, you look over the top of your monitor and catch her eyes, rolling them slightly as you do so.

“I swear Alex is trying to kill me. If I have to stare at this damn spread sheet for a minute longer, I may cause some damage. It’s infuriating, he’s convinced it’s wrong but I just don’t see it.” You scowl at the screen once more, trying to get it to reveal its incorrect ways to you.

Jisoo is quiet for a moment before you hear her moving something around on her desk. “Well, if you can make it through the next few hours, do you want to come with my friends and I to the circus tonight? It’ll be a cool way to relax.”

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Slow (M)

Pair: Jungkook X Reader

Type: Fluff, Smut

Genre: (another) pwp, f!reader, established relationship au

Warnings: nothing hotter than verbal consent, unprotected sex, creampie, cumshot, overstimulation(?), a little masturbation (m), suggested marking, a little oral (m)

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Saw this and went, oh me oh my, oh to be an army. Also, I can’t tell if Jk is a little bit sub or if this is just a normal dynamic TwT.

|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|

“Is this good?” His lips press to the cusp of your ear, breathing only a bit ragged. He looks for the words in his mind that he can use to describe this moment. To describe this feeling. He comes up empty.

His voice cracks and is so barely there that it’s less than a whisper. You let out a humorous breath when you realize you’re squinting to hear him better. Maybe it does help but even if it did, your mind isn’t in its most logical moment at this point. Jungkook isn’t sure why you laugh but he’s always found your laugh contagious so he can’t help himself now, when he starts chuckling a bit. All this while he’s snug inside you, releasing a small breath that’s he held ever since he reached the hilt; Pressing one hand on your hip to stabilize the both of you.

“Mhm, s’good. It’s all good.” You’re absolutely lust drunk. After such a wind up that he’s given you though, you can’t blame yourself. You wouldn’t consider yourself desperate at this moment but you aren’t exactly calm and collected when your boyfriend’s got his dick in you. You find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, noticing the way his eyes shine in the darkness of dusk. There’s a contrast of the moon and sun. One in each eye.

He starts with rocking his hips, slowly grinding as if it was to the rhythm to those slow songs he loves so much. You feel every bit of it, of him. You hear the beat in you head. Maybe he wanted you to think of it as if the both of you were dancing. Both of you, holding each other close and twirling to a soft beat. You didn’t know why but it just felt so Jungkook, that part of you wanted to be emotional for just a second. Maybe you’d choose to after your moment.

“You can see me?” He asks, lips trailing down to below your ear and to your chin, kisses so overwhelmingly sweet.

“Mhm.” You hum, “you’re perfect.”

He breathes out again, heavier this time. “When you say things like that…” and he leaves the rest for you to finish in your mind. “You make this so hard to commit to.”He tilts his hips to the side just a little and hears as a mew falls from your lips. They’re already shiny with the amount of times you’ve bit and licked at them. “Shit. I wanna kiss you but I don’t know where you are as soon as you close you eyes.”

You laugh, “You could just…ask me to kiss you?”

You don’t mean for it to come out that way but it does and you’re almost positive that he’s got that look on his face. The look as if he’s absolutely gobsmacked by you. It usually shows when you say something that sounds even remotely forward, especially when he’s balls deep in you, you’ve manage to break him down to his very core. His hips stutter for a bit but he manages to keep a steady pace.

“Will you? Please?”

He sounds so needy when he says it that you immediately want to squeal but you hold it in. Your lips hush words on his and you can barely hold back your reaction at his whimper. It doubles over when he feels you clench just right and he can’t help the other noise that comes. It’s only on specific days that Jungkook likes to feel this vulnerable and today seems to be one of those days. The kiss is a bit hard to be consistent with when he’s still moving so he trails his lips down to your neck, where he can inhale and feel at home. He’s told you again and again, that is what you are to him. His home away from home.

There’s no need to be quiet. You have no children, no pets, walls thick enough for no one to hear a thing and yet, something about it feels more sensual and intimate. Something about only hearing the sound of the fan spin and occasionally feeling the breeze from the oscillation makes you feel so calm. The way you know he yearns to look deep into the color of your eyes but he can’t because all he can see is the silhouette of your face. He curses the blinds that are a bit too thick to be pulled back enough to show you properly.

“Thank you for doing the dishes.” You whisper. You feel his body shake with laugher. “What?”

“Talking about dirty dishes while my dick is in you is kinda cute.” You find yourself grinning with him. Even if you couldn’t see his smile, you could tell it’s there just from the way he sounds. You could tell any expression he wore with your eyes closed as long as you just heard his voice. From when he’s stressed and can’t help but show it in his tone or when he’s so happy that he’ll practically squeak. When he says ‘eugh’ after hearing or tasting something gross. It’s all so beautiful and you couldn’t ask for anything more. You playfully hit his chest.

Then you pull him closer and focus on him. Specifically, you look at his cheeks in which they turn a deeper shade of pink. His eyes are wide and doe, and your fingers can feel the heat from his face. He’s blushing.

He lifts up one of your legs from under the covers to bend it against his hip. He does it just to distract you from how flustered he really is but you can’t exactly tell when your mind is clouded. He’s reaching for a higher place so you can’t help but let out the soft moan that’s been resting on your chest for the past few minutes.

“Mmf-babyyyy.” You say, your voice a bit muffled when you cover your mouth with your hand.

“There’s been so much going on in my head right now but I can’t say it out loud because-“ He sucks in a breath, “You feel so good. Y-you drive me crazy.”

You move your hands from your mouth to put your lips on the cusp of his ear. You pull him close to you and whisper, “Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of these fucking sheets?”

“Fuck yes.” He grinds down, small thrusts into the spongey part of you. Those rare moments where you talk dirty to him have him reeling so close. You don’t need to see him to be able to tell. The things he says, how he trembles under your fingertips and the sloppier motions, they’re all signs. “Where can I-?” His voice cuts off with a cracked groan. You feel his breath on your neck when he burrows his head there.

“All over me.” You slide your hands down his back, lightly dragging your nails on him.

He huffs out words that mix in with each other. He exhales all the stress thats been knotted in his heart. “I wanna…” He lets go of your leg to take your hand from his back and intertwine it with his. You knew what he wanted. You always do because you can read him like a book. He loves to feel as close to you as possible. To feel almost every part of you, touching as if you were one. You’re almost one hundred percent sure he gets off on it.

He starts slowly grinding himself to you, absorbing the gasp you release as if he were taking a big gulp of air. No matter how many times you tell him that you don’t need to cum in order to enjoy this, he insists. No matter what you say, your heart warms and with the months that have gone by with the two of you dating, he’s continued to master the craft at making you cum progressively quicker.

He knows how hard it is to keep moving and keep his lips on your so he goes for burying his face in your neck and sucking there to somehow keep himself grounded.

It’s not often you have slow sex. Sometimes you ask for it rough and end the night with hickeys; red, black, and blue marks all over the both of your skin. He worries about it every time but you always have to reassure him that you liked it. A lot. Maybe too much. Then there’s times where you have quickies; in the need for a quick orgasm before you have something to do. Those never end up quick like the name suggests because your lust can only be sated for so long before you want his mouth or his cock again. Slow sex, however, takes a while, and it’s absolutely worth it. You savor his hip movements and grow wetter with every right move he makes.

“Ohgod…baby.” He moans, lips muffled into your neck as he slows down his pace until he’s back to how you started.

You grip his hand. “Gonna be a strong one?”

He nods, mind fuzzy, full of tv static and words cut off for the most adorable groans. The only thing he wants to hear is your voice but even that starts to be a hard task to focus on.

Then he thrusts a little harder into a spot at its perfect angle. You aren’t exactly sure where but you let out a moan that equally fucks him over because he’s trying his hardest not to buck into you desperately. He wants this to be good for you. Your available hand runs its way between you both to rub at your clit. Its sloppy but it feels just right with the slick aiding your movements. You always get this wet when you’re having slow sex. So much so that the sounds of your boyfriend’s hips rocking, let out the most indecent noises. The grunt that he lets out let’s you know exactly how he feels about you touching yourself. He’s probably said it one million times before.

By the way his breath speeds up, you clench to finally grant him that last push. Just maybe, you hear him thank you under his breath. Just like that, he’s letting out a loud noise, pulling out and sitting up to cum all over your stomach. His legs tremble and his head is thrown far back. His hand jerks furiously at his cock and half way through his climax, he leans closer to grip your thigh and hold himself up. The orgasm makes him see flashing lights so he clenches them closed and groans.

When he’s finally done, his eye sight is completely blurry. You’re about to express how impressed you are. Your fingers are about to approach the cum all over you.

That is, until he pushes himself back in and rubs your clit. You’re so shocked at you feel your orgasm building dangerously fast out of nowhere and shaking you to your very core. When you cum, your body trembles and your legs raise, crossing over him to pull him closer inside of you. Slow sex has always led to the hardest orgasms for the both of you.

“Ohfuckwait-“ He gasps out before you feel him cumming again. It’s less this time, but it’s even more surprising.

When he’s done and pulls out, he flips himself with the last of his energy on to the other side of the bed as to not collapse on you. He’s still shaking and its not from the air conditioning.

“You okay?” You ask, feeling cum start to leak out of you and onto your bed sheets. Looks like he kept with his goal. You gently rub at his back as he peaks an eye from out of the pillow on his side.

“‘m sorry. I really didn’t mean to-“

“No, don’t worry about it. I got my DMPA already, remember? I just didn’t want it on my sheets. Just changed them, y’know?” You hum. You reach beside you, going in the bedside drawer and taking out some wet wipes to clean off your skin. You end up needing more than 3.

“Oh, okay. I-“

“You really came a lot today.” You say casually. “Proud of you.” You hear him shuffle beside you and when you look back, you see nothing but darkness. You still hear his voice in the same space when he speaks again though.

“It felt really good. Really, you’re a goddess. No one ever makes me cum as hard as you can. I’m still shaking.”

You let out a small giggle, reach out for him once you’re clean(ish). You feel his thick thigh in your hand and follow it to his flaccid dick. Your lips follow and then-

“B-baby nooo, I can’t-“ He whines as your tongue curves around the head and cleans off the excess. He’s caught between getting closer to you or moving away.

“I’m just cleaning up the last of it, Kookie.” You say, licking your lips. You know he can’t see it, but he can definitely hear it.

You get out of bed and go for the bathroom. While in there, words bounce off the walls from the bedroom and you hear him say something along the lines of: “Fuck, that’s hot.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

Hell yeah

thirst trap || jjk

↠ title: thirst trap ↠ pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader ↠ genre: angst | fluff | smut | supernatural | strangers to lovers?? | fangirl!reader | rockstar!jungkook | wannabe edgy!reader | p*rn without much plot | kinda like soulmates but he doesn’t have a soul lol | happy ending!! ↠ summary: After months of shooting your shot, Deadly Svn’s lead singer, Jungkook, finally messaged you back—with some coordinates? Where will they take you?… And what will be in store for you when you arrive? ↠ rating: R/18+ ↠ word count: 10.6k ↠ warnings: (This story may be extremely triggering for some readers. Please proceed with caution and read all warnings.) strong language | jungkook with painted nails and piercings | blasphemy | smoking | alcohol comsumption | injuries and wounds | one use of the word “daddy” in a nonsexual way | religious/biblical themes | jungkook isn’t buying reader’s image | mentions pregnancy | mentions strict/religious parents | blood and acts that involve blood including consumption | blood intoxication? | rituals(kinda) | jungkook has inhuman strength of course | mentions murder and sacrifice | dark themes | rude but clueless!jungkook | explicit sexual content(everything is consensual) | bdsm themes | unprotected sex | oral sex | dom!jungkook | sub!reader | teasing | fingering | scent kink | blood play | sadism and masochism | rough sex | spitting | face/throat fucking | eye contact | temperature play | deep throating | jungkook has horns, talons, and fangs…oh and a forked tongue | pain kink | spanking | dacryphilia | oral sex | outdoor/desert sex | praise kink | degradation | name calling | erotic humiliation | consensual sexual torture & punishment | orgasm control & denial | edging | backshots | hair pulling | missionary | creampie | choking | gagging | sex in the dirt and it gets on their body and that’s hot to me? | marking/scratching/biting | jungkook has a big demon dick and his cum is warm | belly bulge | cervix touching | possessive!jungkook | reader is treated as an object and nothing more | tit slapping | nipple play | tongue fucking | hand holding | light power play dynamics | strength kink | jungkook lowkey worships her ass | manhandling | cum eating/swallowing | multiple orgasms | multiple positions | grinding | squirting | accidental voyeurism | a demon’s form of aftercare (if that makes sense lol)….sorry if i missed something. ↠ author’s note: Not embarrassed to say it took me a year to write a pwp lol. I love this story though lol. Shoutout to my beta readers @taechwitaaah​ & @emwhygee​ for being my knights in shining armor because this would not be here without them. There may be some mistakes because I added stuff behind their backs lol The next shout out goes to may amazing banner/divider creator @jeonqkooks​ / @itaeewon​ isn’t it beautiful!!! I love it!! This was written for the Bangtan Seven Deadly Sins Collab and K-Vanity’s Bucket List Event. I hope you like it. ↠ playlist: Roc Me Out by Rihanna | Crew Love by The Weeknd & Drake | Emo Girl by Willow & MGK | Fear by Seventeen | Invincible by MGK & Ester Dean | Low Life by Future & The Weeknd | Beautiful by Eminem 

main masterlist | listen while you read | mailbox | bangtan seven deadly sins collab

Invincible.

Keep reading

There's gonna be a part 2?? HELL YAAAA I'm excited, before i couldn't leave a proper review, i was too busy drooling and trying to come to terms with what i read, but now I'm ready. MC is cearly pining over jk, and now there's no way they can remain friends, this is my favourite trope, but i hope this won't be one-sided pining in pt2, since he slept over, he is definitely falling for mc, jungkook is just in denial. @chryblossomjjk wrote this perfectly, there's no way this is your first fic, it's too good!

practice | jjk

→pairing: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

→genre: college au, fwb, pwp, smut

→word count: 8.1k

→rating: M

→warnings: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

→summary: You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

→notes: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip </3. so i had it beta'd by my bby @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist here. love u bye!!

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 

Anything and everyone, except you. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook. 

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname. 

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 

‘What do you mean you’ve never played before?’ He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 

‘You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, ‘Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?’ 

You answered him curtly with a scowl. 

‘Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.’ He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-.”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain. 

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 

Wow. 

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 

He purrs and closes his eyes. 

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 

A pause. 

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you. 

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?” 

“Have you ever squirted before?” 

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing. 

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples pink and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there. 

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy and red.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning. 

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

Goddamn. I felt this fic in my stomach. I can't even express how hot this was, wow. 100/10

practice | jjk

→pairing: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

→genre: college au, fwb, pwp, smut

→word count: 8.1k

→rating: M

→warnings: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

→summary: You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

→notes: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip </3. so i had it beta'd by my bby @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist here. love u bye!!

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 

Anything and everyone, except you. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook. 

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname. 

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 

‘What do you mean you’ve never played before?’ He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 

‘You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, ‘Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?’ 

You answered him curtly with a scowl. 

‘Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.’ He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-.”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain. 

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 

Wow. 

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 

He purrs and closes his eyes. 

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 

A pause. 

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you. 

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?” 

“Have you ever squirted before?” 

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing. 

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples pink and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there. 

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy and red.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning. 

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

Damn, i only wanted to read a fic that was less than 5k wc, but here i am after finishing this long but heartfelt and emotional story. I couldn't stop my self from reading after *spoilers* Seokjin discovered Namjoon's secret. This was too good, wow. And halfway, i knew seokjin would do anything in his power to kill mamjoon, even though a piece of me desperately wanted me to believe he wouldn't throw away years of friendship, that he wasn't like his family. Sadly, it wasn't a happily ever after for him.

The namjoon in this fic seems so accurate to what i think may be his real personality, imo, slightly guarded with walls to protect himself, but so sweet and intelligent when he starts opening up to someobe he trusts. And so much love and affection, he woukd give it in overwhelming amounts.

I have an exam tomorrow, but i don't regret reading this. Awesome work @joonscypher

P.S: i thought this would be like a classic little red riding hood tale with the big bad wolf, menacing and dangerous, hunting her down but having a soft spot for the mc, but it took a much fluffier turn than i thought

Big Bad Wolf | KNJ (M)

🔴 Summary: Your mom has always warned you not to venture too deep into the forest, for legend has it, in it lives vicious, man eating wolves. You’ve always listened to her words until one day when your love of animals gets the better of you and you end up in the woods, chasing after a wounded cat. When you stumble across a secluded cottage in the middle of the forest and meet one of these “Big Bad Wolves,” you learn that maybe not everything is as it seems.

🔴 Pairing: Wolf Shapeshifter!Namjoon x Human Female!Reader

🔴 Genre/AU: Angst, fluff, smut, fantasy, strangers to lovers

🔴 Rating: 18+ | R

🔴 Warnings: profanity, non-descriptive talk of murder, mention of guns/a gunshot wound, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, knotting, marking

🔴 Words: 19.7k 🥴

🔴 Note: It’s finally here - my fic for @hobeemin​’s Bangtan Grimm Event!! The fairytale my fic is inspired by is Little Red Riding Hood. Full disclosure here, this is my first half human/half animal fic so to anyone that reads this that is much more seasoned with hybrid-esque fics, it’s not the same as others you probably have read lol. 

Thank you soooo much to @lavienjin​ for this amazing banner!! ❤️❤️ ENORMOUS thank you to @playmetheclassics​ for literally being my hero and beta reading this chonker of a fic in a few hours after I finished it 🥰🥰

This fic has been a journey to say the least. Writer’s block has had me in an absolute chokehold these past few months, but I’m so glad I was able to finally finish this! Please enjoy my longest fic to date 😂💖

Keep reading

Oh my god, so sweeeeeet. This was adorable, i love coffeeshopau's so much

Mugs & Kisses | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, Barista!AU, strangers to lovers

Rating: T

Warnings: kissing, Taehyung is a bit of a rapscallion, general silliness, this fic may cause your teeth to rot - my apologies to your dentists

Word Count: 6k

Disclaimer: SFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Jungkook has something he'd like to tell you, but he can't find the words. So he's thought of another way.

A/N: I wrote this for ficscafe's au pairing event, using prompt fifty-two: ceo x barista ; where the barista unknowingly writes daily cute little messages on the cup of the richest person in the country. Put my own little spin on it, and set it at Christmas time because I am a sucker for holiday fluff. Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Join my permanent taglist

The bell chimed as the door to the coffee shop swung open. Jungkook’s head popped up above the counter where he was crouching as he cleaned, looking around frantically to see if someone had just walked in.

“Don’t worry, it’s not her,” Taehyung’s low voice droned over his shoulder.

“It’s not?” Jungkook whipped his head around to gawk at his coworker, who leaned casually on the cash register in front of him, waiting for the customer in line to put away his phone and give his order. “I mean, uh, what are you talking about?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Her. You know. The woman you’ve been making eyes at for the last month or so? Always comes in on Saturdays at this time of morning, always orders a caramel macchiato to go. And you always stare at her like a lovestruck puppy the entire time.”

Jungkook felt his face heating. Was he really that obvious?

He didn’t get a chance to refute Taehyung’s words before the door chimed again, and you swept in.

It must’ve started flurrying outside, Jungkook realized, from the snowflakes that dotted your hair and face, tiny drops of white that melted away as the heat of the coffee shop slowly thawed you. You peeled off your gloves and queued up behind Taehyung’s customer. He watched as you scanned the menu that hung on the wall behind him, eyes flicking back and forth as if mulling over your options, even though you always ordered the same drink.

Jungkook thought you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Kook,” Taehyung’s voice broke through his reverie. “Large dark roast, with one shot of espresso, to go, for Yoongi.”

Jungkook sprang into action. “Got it.” He snatched a cup, grabbed his fine tip marker, wrote “Yoongi” on it in loopy lettering, then set about making the drink. Once finished, he stepped to the end of the counter and called out “Yoongi!” A sleepy-looking man with pink hair wandered up and took his drink with a grunt that Jungkook assumed meant “Thanks.”

When he returned to his spot by Taehyung at his register, you were already placing your order.

“Medium caramel macchiato to go, please,” you chirped, your voice the sweetest melody to Jungkook’s ears.

Taehyung asked your name and you mentioned it as Jungkook remained rooted to the spot, gazing at you softly.

“Did you get that, Kook?” Taehyung repeated your name. Jungkook blinked and nodded, reaching for a cup and his marker. He started to write, then paused, thinking hard.

A minute passed.

“Uh, are you planning on making that drink anytime soon?” Taehyung asked, smirking at his friend. “Or did you want to ogle our customer a little more?” Jungkook glanced up, relieved to see that you had wandered off to wait for your drink, well out of earshot of Taehyung’s teasing. He shot his friend a dark look, then finished what he was writing and hurried off to make your drink.

You heard your name called out a minute later and walked up to the counter where the doe-eyed barista stood. He didn’t acknowledge you, focused on cleaning his equipment, but you thanked him anyway and picked up your cup. Stopping by the door to put your gloves back on, you shifted the drink in your hands, noting in happy wonder that, below your name, there was an intricate, beautifully etched snowflake, with “Stay warm!” scrawled beside it.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A week later, an amused Jungkook watched as a pile of shopping bags on legs burst through the door of the coffee shop. It trundled up to the counter, a pair of bewitching eyes peeking over the tops of the packages.

“Hi!” your voice rang out. “Can I get a medium caramel macchiato, to go, please?” Your face appeared as you lowered the bags, gingerly juggling them as you attempted to reach for your wallet.

“Starting your holiday shopping?” Taehyung questioned as you handed him your card.

“Finishing it!” you trilled cheerfully.

“Wow, this early? It’s only the beginning of December! I’m impressed.”

You shrugged, a pleased smile crossing your lips. “I like to get an early start, beat the crowds.”

As you and Taehyung chatted, Jungkook’s hands worked swiftly, his marker flying over your cup. He half-listened to your conversation, wishing he could join in. You and Taehyung struck up an easy rapport, gabbing away while Jungkook worked on your order.

He envied the way Taehyung could talk to anyone. Jungkook sometimes found it hard to say what he was thinking, especially if he was excited. He’d get overwhelmed and the message would get mixed up, words jumbling together somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

When a beautiful woman like you got his heart racing, he’d lose his words completely.

He didn’t realize how long he was taking until Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what he was waiting for. Jungkook ignored him and scurried off to make your drink.

You managed to rearrange your purchases by the time your order was ready, giving yourself a free hand. As you reached for your cup, thanking the dark-haired barista who was once again occupied with wiping down his workstation, you giggled at the detailed drawing of a cute little elf, a tiny gift box in its hands with your name written across it.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Hoseok!” Jungkook called out, pushing a tray of drinks towards the edge of the counter.

“Jin!” He slid another tray forward.

Another busy Saturday in December. Only two weeks left until Christmas. The closer the holidays got, the more hectic the little shop became, gallons of coffee flying out the door as sleep-deprived shoppers fueled themselves for more retail madness.

Normally, this made Jungkook happy, because it meant the hours ticked by faster - and he usually left with bigger tips. But today, he wasn’t particularly enjoying himself.

He tried to convince himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t been in this morning, for the first time in weeks. That was certainly Taehyung’s theory, which he’d told Jungkook during their break, complaining that Jungkook’s sour mood was killing his “vibe,” whatever that meant. But he wouldn’t give Taehyung the satisfaction of agreeing with him.

Jungkook was in the middle of whipping up another tray of eggnog lattes when he heard Taehyung call out your name. As he dusted nutmeg over the drinks, he risked a swift peek at the register, where you stood talking at the blue-haired man taking your order. You were the last customer in line, which meant Taehyung could catch his breath and rest for a minute, before the next crowd shuffled in and the frenzy started all over again.

Jungkook quickly handed out the lattes, then hopped over to grab a cup for your order. Spotting a sly glance leveled his way, Jungkook understood with a sinking feeling that Taehyung was going to take advantage of the lull not to relax, but to bask in his favorite pastime - torturing Jungkook.

“I’m guessing you weren’t out shopping, since you are shopping bag free today,” Taehyung mused as he leaned towards you, resting his chin in his hand. “Not to mention you don’ t look like you’ve been fighting the crowds. No one who’s been out in those throngs could come in here looking as pretty as you do.”

Jungkook frowned as his marker swirled your name over the cup.

“Oh, no, I just needed my weekly fix of macchiato,” you answered, smiling sweetly in return. “I would’ve been here earlier this morning, but I slept through my alarm.”

“Late night?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow.

You shot him a conspiratorial wink. “Oh yeah. This project I’m finishing for work kept me up all night.”

“Hmph, how rude of it. Well, I’m glad you came in. Wouldn’t be a good Saturday without my weekly fix of you.” He grinned, lips revealing a brilliant, boxy smile, hitting you with the full dazzling Taehyung charm.

Something that sounded like a rather annoyed grunt sounded from your left, and you turned to curiously eye the shaggy-haired barista standing next to Taehyung. He must’ve felt your gaze, because he suddenly looked up. As your eyes met, he froze.

You were struck by the thought that he very much resembled a deer caught in headlights.

After a few seconds, he seemed to snap out of it and spun on his heel, rushing off to make your drink. You cocked your head, wondering what that was all about.

“Sorry about him. Overcaffeinated. Hazard of the job.” Taehyung commented dryly.

You peered at the flirty employee standing at the register. “I’m sure it is.”

Your gaze kept snapping back to the tall barista crafting your drink. You watched him work in thoughtful silence, suddenly remembering something.

“Oh, do you have comment cards?” you asked Taehyung. “I wanted to tell your bosses how much I love the little holiday illustrations on your cups! They’re so cute and festive!”

Jungkook’s ears perked up. He tried to lean towards the conversation as unobtrusively as possible.

“The… holiday illustrations?” Taehyung repeated in a puzzled tone.

“You know, the drawings? Snowflakes and elves? I really like them.” You beamed. “They even look hand drawn, like a little personal touch. It’s a nice change from the plain cups.” Catching the confusion on his face, your smile began to falter.

“I have no idea what y-“

“Here you go, miss!” Jungkook cut Taehyung off as he set your drink at the end of the counter.

You strode towards the other handsome barista. As ever, his eyes were averted, but you caught a slight nod when you thanked him. Grabbing your drink, you twirled it in your hands until you saw your name. You grinned and brandished the cup towards Taehyung.

“I think this one is my favorite!” you giggled as you displayed a little reindeer, its antlers all tangled up in Christmas lights, the caption ‘Oh deer’ hanging above its head. “Thanks, guys!”

As the door closed behind you, Taehyung scrutinized Jungkook carefully, realization slowly dawning across his face. “Ohhhhhhh,” he crowed.

“Shut up,” Jungkook growled, walking away.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“So, what will our artist-in-residence be sketching tomorrow, hmmm?” Taehyung teased Jungkook the following Friday. “Santa Claus? Christmas tree? Do you decide these things ahead of time, or do you find inspiration in the moment?”

“Don’t you have some work you should be doing right now?” Jungkook retorted as he tried to focus on the gingerbread latte he was crafting. Taehyung was crowding his workspace. “Cleaning? Restocking? Literally anything else?”

“Mmmm, nope,” Taehyung intoned. He draped himself across the counter to Jungkook’s left, not close enough to be in Jungkook’s way as he worked, but just close enough to be a major nuisance anyway. “You know what you should draw?”

Jungkook sighed, defeated. “What’s that?”

“Your phone number.”

“How… how do I draw a phone number?”

Taehyung stared at Jungkook.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung.

Taehyung sighed. “Dude. I just mean, give her your number already.”

Jungkook scowled. “Order ready for Namjoon!” He handed the drink to a tall man in glasses who flashed a dimple-laden smile. “Will you please drop it?” Taehyung had been hounding him about giving you his phone number all week.

Jungkook slipped past his friend, bolting for the stockroom in the hopes of ending the conversation. But Taehyung simply followed, undeterred.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Taehyung went on as Jungkook paced the stockroom, pretending to take inventory of the cups and lids. “You like her, right? What do you have to lose?”

“I just… don’t you think that’s a little cheesy? Hey pretty lady, here’s my phone number! Call me!” Jungkook punctuated his words with finger guns, aiming at Taehyung.

“Well, yeah, if you do it like that, it’s definitely cheesy. Creepy, too.” Taehyung quipped. “Just write your number on her cup and leave it up to her. If she’s interested, she’ll call. If she’s not, she won’t. No harm done.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook fretted. “What if she thinks it’s weird? Some random guy hitting on her? Or what if I make her uncomfortable? That’s the last thing I want!” Resigned to Taehyung’s nagging, he abandoned his inventory scheme and walked back out to the counter, knowing Taehyung would be on his heels.

“You’re overthinking this,” Taehyung declared.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jungkook waffled, turning to look at his friend. “I think I’d feel better about slipping her my number if we’d ever talked before. We haven’t even exchanged a simple ‘hello’.”

“Hello!”

Taehyung and Jungkook jumped, both surprised to find you standing at the counter, smiling brightly. Neither had heard the door open while they were in the stockroom.

“We gotta get a louder bell,” Taehyung murmured.

“Is it always this quiet on a Friday?” you wondered out loud as you surveyed the nearly empty shop. Pulling off your pink knit hat, you shook the snow from the fluffy pom-pom before unraveling your matching scarf.

“You just missed the morning rush,” Taehyung told you. “The usual, to go?”

Jungkook automatically picked up a cup and reached for his marker when you shook your head.

“Actually, could I have that for here instead?” You held up a laptop case. “Need to get some work done, wanted a little change of scenery.”

Jungkook slowly lowered the cup as Taehyung grinned widely.

“Of course! We’ll be happy to have your company today.” Taehyung rang you up as Jungkook marched rotely over to the espresso machine, lost in thought. “Have a seat and we’ll bring it right out.”

You chose a table by the window where you could watch the crowds drift by. Shedding your winter gear, you sat down and started typing away as you waited.

The shop was quiet save for some tinny holiday music rattling out of a speaker overhead. But after a few minutes, you thought you detected a whispered argument, a few choice expletives being hurled back and forth in hushed tones. You chose to mind your business and kept focused on your work.

You were so in the zone that you didn’t realize someone was hovering over you until they cleared their throat. You glanced up, startled.

The handsome barista with the big eyes was staring down at you. Jungkook, that was his name. He seemed almost as spooked as you. “Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to scare you.” He held out a large cup on a saucer. “Here you go.”

You slid your laptop to the side to make room. He lowered the cup and mumbled a quick, “haveagoodday,” about to turn and walk away when your fingers closed around his wrist. He stopped, going completely still with shock.

“Oh, how cute!” you cooed as you inspected your drink. The foam floating on top of your macchiato had been deftly swirled into the shape of a polar bear, bundled up in a big hat and scarf. In your delight, you had reached out to grab the barista’s arm unthinkingly. Upon realizing this, you gently released him.

Peering up at him, you inquired, “Did you do this?”

Jungkook nodded, tongue feeling too thick in his mouth to speak.

“That’s so cool. Do they teach you how to make different designs when you work here?”

Jungkook shook his head. “They didn’t - they don’t teach that stuff here. I figured it out on my own.”

“You taught yourself how to make foam art?” Your eyes widened. “Wow!” You watched the little bear bob gently across the surface of your drink. “I’m jealous of your skills.”

You gazed up at Jungkook with a warm smile. His heart somersaulted in his chest.

“Th-thanks,” he stammered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, enjoy your macchiato.”

He bustled back towards the safety of the stockroom and sat down on a pile of boxes turned into a makeshift chair. A moment later, Taehyung strolled in, hands in his pockets, expression nonchalant.

“Sooooo, how did that go?” His tone implied innocence, but Jungkook knew he’d been stretching himself over the counter as much as humanly possible, trying to listen in. But he didn’t care.

“She liked my bear. She said - she said she was jealous of my skills.” Jungkook clapped his hands over his ears, feeling to see if the tips were as hot as they felt. He scrunched his nose as he grinned at Taehyung.

“And then?”

“And then I came back here.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung looked aghast. “Good god, the way you’re reacting, I figured you’d asked her out - or, more likely, she’d asked you out. You just talked about foam art?!”

Jungkook nodded.

“You’re hopeless, man. Hope. Less.” Taehyung drifted away, leaving Jungkook still smiling to himself.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The next time you visited the shop, Jungkook did a double take. Then a third.

Every other time he’d seen you, you were dressed casually - usually jeans and boots, though one time in late October you’d worn yoga pants and a clingy tank top, apologizing for being sweaty by explaining you’d just come from your first (and last) attempt at pilates, and he’d accidentally inhaled a noseful of espresso when you’d removed your coat to reveal your form-fitting workout clothes.

But you’d never walked through the coffee shop’s door looking the way you did on this particular Monday morning.

You wore an immaculately tailored dark green wool coat, with large black buttons running down your torso, that nipped in tightly with a shiny belt at your waist, then flared out into a ruffled hem, accentuating your hourglass curves. A black pencil skirt peeked out from underneath the coat, stopping just above your knee. Your calves were swathed in dark nylons, and as you turned to make sure the door closed behind you, Jungkook noticed a seam running along the backs of your legs. He swallowed thickly as he followed the line down to the intimidatingly tall high heels you wore that gave you an extra few inches, bringing you eye-level with him as you sauntered up to the counter and smiled.

Right at him.

From his post at his register, Taehyung whistled. “Wow,” he said, breathing your name. “You look amazing!”

You tore your gaze away from Jungkook. “Thank you, Taehyung,” you flushed, giving a little twirl at his compliment. “I’m happy to hear you say that, because I haven’t worn my power suit in a very long time, and I really needed a confidence boost today!”

“Your power suit?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers dropped to your skirt, smoothing a nearly imperceptible wrinkle as you explained. “I’m hoping to close an important negotiation today. Business deals like this always make me super nervous. But this suit is my secret weapon. It’s like a coat of armor - makes me feel like I can conquer anything. And then, you know, I had to make sure the rest of me was pulled together nicely - hair done, heels on, complete the whole look.” You grinned, posing cutely. “You think it works?”

“It definitely works.” Jungkook heard the words leave his lips before his brain alerted him that he’d said them.

Two heads swiveled in his direction.

Before Jungkook could think about running away, your phone rang.

“Ah, excuse me, I gotta take this!” You stepped away from the counter as you swiped your phone open, but not before the baristas heard you answer with your full name.

Taehyung suddenly released his grip on his register, popping upright. “Did… did she just say…” He repeated your name to Jungkook, who nodded, still sweating from his accidental utterance.

Taehyung’s fingers flew over his phone. “Whoa. I knew that I knew that name!”

Jungkook just waited, knowing from his friend’s tone of voice that he had something interesting to share.

But he was not prepared for the headline on the article on Taehyung’s screen:

Country’s Youngest Tech CEO Now Country’s Richest Tech CEO

He gaped at the photo accompanying the headline. It was you, appearing very much like you did today, hair pinned up, makeup tastefully done, and wearing the same skirt with similar nylons and heels. The top half of your suit was on display, and Jungkook had to admit - calling it your ‘secret weapon’ was no lie, because you were absolutely lethal in the fitted jacket, ready to vanquish your enemies.

The satisfied smirk on your face knocked the air from his lungs.

Once he regained the ability to breathe, Jungkook peered at Taehyung, baffled. “You read Tech Biz Weekly magazine?”

“My roommate Jimin’s cousin’s boyfriend works for her.” Taehyung informed him as Jungkook scrolled his phone, reading. “He tweeted this article the other day. She’s a big deal in software. I guess she, like, revolutionized the work from home industry with a program or something? I don’t know, I just skimmed it.” He shrugged. “But the point is, her company is crazy successful and she’s stupid rich. Like, could probably buy several islands without blinking rich.”

“But… she wears jeans?” Jungkook’s brain was completely scrambled, making it even harder than usual to find the right words to express what he was thinking. You didn’t look like a CEO, he meant to say.

“Yeah, dude,” Taehyung confirmed. “Rich people wear jeans sometimes. You expect her to dress like that all the time?” He pointed to your back. You were still on your phone, pacing in an empty corner as you spoke.

“Well, no, of course not, but… she was here on Friday and not dressed in office clothing.” You didn’t appear to work in a stuffy corporate job. “Right. Work from home technology, remember?” Taehyung shrugged again. “She probably uses her own products.”

“But she’s always alone? Shouldn’t she have bodyguards or something?”

Taehyung gave him a look. “I don’t think many people recognize her. She’s rich, she’s not Beyoncé.”

“She’s our age.” How could someone his own age be so rich and powerful?

“She’s your age, dude. I’m still your hyung, you know.” Taehyung gazed into the distance. “Oh. That means she’s younger than me. I need a minute to process.”

Jungkook attempted to reconcile everything he’d read and everything Tae was (rather blasély) telling him with everything he’d learned about you over the last few weeks. He already knew you were smart and confident. Was it really so surprising that you could be a tech savant, too? It… made sense, as much as it all could.

It just meant that you were even more out of his league than he’d thought. As if you’d ever be interested in a goofy, tongue-tied barista.

You returned to the counter, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” Taehyung waved his hand. “So, medium caramel macchiato to go?” “Better make it large today,” you stated, handing him your card.

Jungkook had barely put the tip of his marker to your cup before your phone went off again. Wincing, you mouthed an apology to the two men as you grabbed your card and took the call at the same time.

You were so absorbed in your conversation, going over the final details for your big meeting, that you didn’t note how long it was taking for your drink to be made. But eventually you heard your name called over the voice of the lawyer nattering in your ear, and you flashed Jungkook a quick smile as you grabbed your drink from him and dashed out of the store.

Jungkook tried to ignore the pang of disappointment that struck when you didn’t even glance at the drawing on the cup. Ah, well. You were clearly a very busy woman.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Two days left until Christmas. The coffee shop was a madhouse, with last-minute shoppers and holiday travelers packing the lobby and keeping the staff hustling from open to close. Jungkook barely had the time to think about you.

Yet somehow he did it anyway.

He wondered how your meeting went while he was whipping up peppermint mochas and snickerdoodle lattes. Wiping down his station, he imagined your face when you saw his drawing, hoping it had made you smile. Running to the stockroom for more cups, he remembered how you’d spun in your gorgeous coat and skirt, and paused to stare unseeing at the shelves, adrift in reverie.

He knew he’d have to get over this crush eventually. But it couldn’t hurt to stand there and pretend for a few moments that you might feel the same way.

It was while he was in the back that you entered the shop, door chiming as you scanned the counter.

Taehyung stood alone. Leaned alone, to be more precise, draped as usual over his register, blissfully enjoying a rare moment of silence between the swarms of shoppers. Catching your eye, he grinned.

“If it isn’t our favorite customer,” he greeted you cheerfully. You clocked the “our” as you reached into your shoulder bag and produced an empty coffee cup, setting it in front of him.

Taehyung snatched it up, examining it curiously. “You brought your cup back? Um, we appreciate your commitment to recycling, but we don’t reuse our paper cups. They are biodegradable, though.”

You didn’t reply, but simply reached out and rotated the cup in Taehyung’s hand until he saw it.

Inscribed across the cup was a stunning sketch of a fierce-looking woman, wielding a shield, sword raised above her head. Next to her was scribbled “파이팅.” Most would assume it was an illustration of a random warrior, but you recognized the woman’s eyes right away.

They were your own.

Based on the way Taehyung glanced between the drawing and your face, he recognized them, too.

“What does this mean?” you implored, tapping the word written in Hangul.

“Paiting,” Taehyung smiled. “It’s like, good luck, or let’s go! Like someone’s encouraging you.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, staring at the cup. Taehyung handed it back to you and you held it delicately, lowering your head as you contemplated his words. He opened his mouth to ask if he could take your order, but the question died on his tongue when you gazed up at him, an intense expression on your face. “Okay. Thank you, Taehyung.”

He tilted his head, not really sure what he’d done for you. “You’re welcome?”

You smiled. “I’ll see you later,” you said, walking away. As you exited the shop, shoppers streamed past you, filling the lobby again, and Taehyung’s attention was diverted by the next wave of customers.

It wasn’t until he was lying in bed that night, drifting off to sleep, that he realized he’d never told Jungkook about your visit.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Christmas Eve morning was mercifully slow. The neighborhood businesses were already closed for the holiday, so there weren’t any employees needing their daily caffeine fix. By now, most travelers had reached their destinations, so they were no longer piling into the shop. The only steady flow of customers were the remaining last-last-minute shoppers, those who had procrastinated until there were only literal hours left to shop, and thankfully they were more of a trickle than a flood.

Yet despite the holiday and the quiet, Taehyung wasn’t surprised to see you walk through the door.

“Is he here?” you inquired by way of greeting, dusting snow from your hat.

Taehyung didn’t bother to ask you to clarify. “Yeah, he’s in the back. Let me grab him.”

Jungkook was combing through boxes, scouring for more caramel syrup, when he heard his friend’s voice call out, “Kook. You have a visitor.” He lifted his head to glance at the doorway and ask who it was, but Taehyung had vanished.

He blinked, suddenly nervous.

Taehyung was missing from his register when Jungkook emerged from the stockroom. And you were standing at the other end of the counter, bundled in your winter gear, with a cup in your hands and a soft smile on your lips.

Jungkook forced his legs to carry him to his workstation. You looked up as he approached.

“Hi Jungkook.”

His name had never sounded so sweet.

“Hi,” he responded. “Um, can I help you?”

You waved the cup around. “Did you draw this?”

Jungkook nodded.

“I didn’t notice it until I was on my way to my meeting yesterday,” you confessed, twiddling the cup in your hands. “It… it made me smile. I wanted to tell you that. And thank you.” You blushed slightly, and Jungkook felt his own face heating in response. “The meeting went so smoothly. Even though I didn’t know what you wrote, I still felt like someone was cheering me on, and it helped. A lot.”

Jungkook knew he was still standing in front of you, but he felt like he was floating towards the ceiling.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, just barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Did you do all those other sketches? The reindeer, the elf… was that you?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so.” You regarded him closely. “Did you draw them for all your other customers?”

He shook his head, fighting the urge to cover his ears, knowing they were burning. “No.”

“Ah.” You bit your lip, fighting a smile. “You’re not much of a talker, huh?”

Jungkook just blinked his doe eyes in alarm.

“It’s ok. I talk enough for the two of us.” You suddenly dug into your bag, searching for something. “Anyway, like I said, I wanted to thank you. This time of year can be... hard, you know? I didn’t intend to visit this place so often, honestly - I’m not much of a coffee drinker, as you can tell by my preferred order.” You grinned and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from beaming as well. “But you and Taehyung have always been so nice, and then the little sketches… well, they made me happy. I wanted to show my appreciation, so… here.” You thrust a small package into his hands. Jungkook stared at the beautiful gold wrapping paper, the gauzy white bow, and the tiny tag that read “Jungkook” in elegant handwriting.

A gift? For him?

He automatically moved to open the package and you quickly interjected. “Wait, don’t open that now!”

He stopped, gazing at you with wide eyes. You smiled at his startled expression.

“Sorry. I just… just open that later, okay? After I leave.” You cleared your throat. “I, uh, took the liberty of breaking it in. But I don’t draw, so… you’ll see,” you blathered, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“Okay.” He easily acquiesced to your plea and tucked the package under the counter, out of sight.

“Okay,” you repeated, nodding. “I better get going. Got a lot of miles to travel today.” You edged towards the door. “Merry Christmas, Jungkook. Please give Taehyung my wishes for a good holiday.”

He nodded, watching you walk away. He felt like he was going to burst. As your fingers gripped the door handle, he found his voice, calling out your name.

“Merry Christmas. And… thank you.”

Your smile shone brighter than all the Christmas lights strung throughout the shop.

The moment the door closed behind you, Taehyung instantaneously reappeared. Jungkook assumed this meant he’d been hanging out in the back hallway, eavesdropping on your conversation. He didn’t care. He grabbed the gift and set it on the counter.

Taehyung gestured for him to continue.

The metallic paper sparkled as Jungkook turned the gift over in his hands. It was wrapped so neatly that it almost seemed a shame to tear into it. But he didn’t think he could wait a second longer.

Peeling back the layers of ribbon and paper, he found a gorgeous, leather-bound sketchbook. Tucked inside the cover was a row of pristine pencils arranged in a perfect rainbow of colors.

On the first page of the pad was written a little note:

Jungkook,

Talent like yours deserves a better canvas. Hope this helps.

And underneath your signature, a phone number.

“Whoa,” Taehyung marveled, plucking the sketchbook from Jungkook’s hands and inspecting the contents. “Fancy!”

Jungkook was halfway through the lobby before Taehyung looked up.

“Where are you going? You don’t have your coat!” he heard his friend yell as he opened the door and dashed out into the cold.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Falling snow made it difficult to see very far as Jungkook spun around, scanning the street. He shivered, wishing he had grabbed his jacket. But he’d been moving on instinct, his gut telling him to run out the door before he lost you.

Though he was starting to fear that he already had as he surveyed the scene around him. The boulevard was mostly bare, only a few other people out trekking through the wintry weather. Then he spotted it - that fuzzy pompom, bouncing on the top of your knit cap as you strolled away a few blocks down from the shop. Jungkook started to run, skidding slightly on the slippery pavement.

“Hey!” A voice was shouting your name. You slowed your pace, glancing over your shoulder, eyebrows shooting up as you saw Jungkook dashing towards you.

“Jungkook!” you exclaimed as he came to a halt, breath huffing into little white clouds as he panted in the chilly air. You observed his lack of outerwear with a frown. “You must be freezing!” Taking his arm, you ducked into the entryway of a closed clothing store, tugging him behind you, giving him partial protection from the snow and wind.

Huddling close to you in the doorway, Jungkook forgot his words again.

The wind whipped up, nipping at your face. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, you retreated more, leading Jungkook further out of the cold, until your back bumped the door behind you. You peeked up at him patiently, giving him time.

Eventually, he spoke. “I just… wanted to thank you. For the sketchbook. It’s amazing.” A shy smile crossed his face, eyes crinkling as he beamed, and you swore your heart skipped a beat. “No one’s ever given me a gift like that before.”

“Well, I have to be honest. I gave it to you for rather selfish reasons,” you admitted.

His deer in headlights expression returned. “You did?”

“Yeah. Because I can’t wait to see what you do with it.” You looked down at your feet, feeling slightly bashful yourself. “I’m hoping you’ll show me.”

Jungkook’s gaze flitted to your lips. He licked his own unconsciously, fighting the urge to lean in. Would it be too forward to kiss you?

You lifted your head, and something hanging above Jungkook’s head caught your eye as it swayed in the wind.

“Jungkook,” you murmured, pointing. “Mistletoe.”

His eyes followed your finger, missing the way you glanced at his mouth, watching the perfect cupid’s bow and pouty bottom lip pop open in surprise. He gawked at the little green sprig someone had strung up above the store’s entrance.

How else should he interpret the tiny plant, but as an answer to his question?

Jungkook cupped his hands over your cheeks, drawing you to him for a tender kiss.

Your eyes fell shut, lips brushing against Jungkook’s as he pulled you close. Warmth flooded from your head to your toes, driving out the winter air’s icy sting. Your fingers fisted in his apron as Jungkook hummed into the kiss, stepping forward until he was flush against you, pressing your back firmly into the door, causing you to squeak slightly.

Jungkook broke the kiss. “Sorry! I - I got carried away,” he apologized, dropping his hands from your face.

You shook your head vehemently. “No! Don’t apologize. That was really nice,” you gushed, releasing your grip, trying to iron the wrinkled material of his apron with your hands. “But you should probably get back to work before you catch a cold! I can’t believe you’re out here like this.”

Jungkook lowered his head, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, I, uh, didn’t really think this through. I just wanted to see you. And….” he trailed off, running his fingers through his dark, messy hair.

“And?” you prompted him lightly.

“And ask if you want to get dinner with me. Maybe next Friday?” He peered at you hopefully. “I’ll bring my sketchbook.”

“To show me or to draw me?” you teased.

“Both, if you’ll let me,” he replied, without hesitation, a playful gleam in his eye.

Your face burned as you nodded your acceptance, suddenly too shy to speak.

Jungkook promised to text you before sprinting off back to work.

As the door chimed, announcing Jungkook’s arrival, Taehyung poked his head out from where he’d been standing in the back, savoring the quiet with a hot cocoa.

“Well?” he demanded.

Jungkook just smiled. He opened his gift, selected a pink pencil, and started to sketch.

© 2021 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Holy fucking shit on a stick. This was too hot for my own good, how am i supposed to focus on work now😫

All Wound Up (Tighter) | KTH, JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plots, strangers to lovers, Rock Star!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation (m), voyeurism, oral (m & f receiving), vaginal sex, threesome, orgasms

Word Count: 6K

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Jungkook and Taehyung help you unwind.

A/N: Inspired by the body harnesses worn by the vocal line at Permission to Dance On Stage. Easily the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I'm sorry or you're welcome, take your pick. Unbeta'd as usual.

I have absolutely no idea what goes into making jewelry or harnesses, so if you’re hoping for authentic details or facts in this story *waves hand like a Jedi* this isn’t the story you’re looking for. Actually, that goes for anyone looking for anything remotely resembling reality. Reality didn’t leave the building - it never entered in the first place.

Dedicated to my Jimin support group @reliablemitten @hannahbee12719 @yeontan-my-love. I thought we needed a break from his diabolical ways, so I… wrote about a threesome with the other maknaes? Whoops. Special shoutout to Poppy and @smasmashin for the assist with the title (insert Jungkook wink with finger guns gif) 💕Let me know what you think - my inbox is open!

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Join my permanent taglist

“What do you mean, they want a fitting?”

Hoseok just stared at you. “I mean, they want a fitting. How are you not getting this?”

You wrinkled your nose in irritation. “But… they sent in their measurements. They don’t need a fitting. I’ve done a thousand of these harnesses by now. Are you really doubting my skills after all this time?”

He shouldn’t be. Your body accessories shop, Dark & Wild, was incredibly popular and business was booming. It had been, ever since you’d expanded from typical jewelry like necklaces and arm bands into full-body harnesses and chains, opening up a new market and creating more demand for your painstakingly handcrafted jewelry.

You worked in gold and silver, leather and metal, twisting and shaping the harshest elements to create the most exquisite adornments. It didn’t matter how much they resisted; eventually, everything bent to your demands. Hoseok often joked that the toughest thing in your shop wasn’t your tools or the materials you worked with, but your will.

He wasn’t wrong.

Hoseok sighed, pinching his nose. “Of course not. I know you know what you’re doing! You’re the best there is. It’s why I made you my business partner all those years ago.”

“Excuse me, I believe I made you my partner when I opened this shop!”

“Right, when you realized you needed someone to run the books and talk to clients and generally do everything except craft the products.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, will you please just do this for me? These guys are friends of a dear friend of mine, and he promised they’d make it worthwhile.”

“You mean they’re willing to pay a lot.”

He grinned, lighting up the room like a tiny, annoying sun. “Yep!”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But where exactly am I supposed to do this fitting?” You gestured around your shop, which was a workspace, not a storefront. All of your jewelry was sold online only, every piece made to order according to your clients’ desires.

Hoseok waved a hand. “I’m sure this is fine. But if you want, I know they’re staying at the Black Swan downtown. I can text and get their room number if you’d rather meet them there.”

“The Black Swan?” You whistled. “Fancy. Who are these guys again?”

“My friend Yoongi’s clients. He’s their manager. They’re in some rock band - Autumn Trees? No. Autumn Leaves?” He snapped his fingers. “Dead Leaves!”

You snorted. “Sounds emo.” Setting down the piece you’d been working on, you sighed. “Fine. I’ll interrupt my busy day to go meet these two total strangers in a hotel room, and if they turn out to be bloodthirsty killers and murder me, I’ll just haunt your ass for the rest of your life. And if they don’t turn out to be bloodthirsty killers, I’ll still haunt your ass for making me do this. It’ll just be a while before I get there.”

Hoseok beamed, pulling you into a quick hug. “You’re the best, sugar.”

“I know.”

Hoseok texted you the details the next morning. You were to meet your clients - Taehyung and Jungkook, those were their names - at 2. You spent the morning in your shop, finishing up a few pieces before lunch. Around 1, you gently packed their orders into your rolling carrying case and headed out.

You fiddled with the straps on your Doc Martens on the train to downtown. A sleazy looking guy sitting across from you leered as your leather skirt rode up on your thighs, and you scowled and gave him the bird. You weren’t in the mood to pretend not to notice, annoyed that you were making this special trip to begin with.

Your mood didn’t improve any by the time the train finally arrived 15 minutes later than it was supposed to, due to some issue on the tracks. Hustling down the crowded sidewalk towards the hotel, you swore as one of the wheels on your case suddenly came loose and rolled directly into a sewer grate. Picking up the case, you tucked it under your arm as you finally strolled into the hotel and directly into an elevator, collapsing against a mirrored wall in relief.

Sweat was prickling your forehead as you knocked on the hotel room door. You hoped you didn’t look like a mess, frowning slightly as you realized how late you were running.

You raised your hand to knock again, just as the door opened. Your fist bounced off of a solid chest. “Fuck! Sorry!” you yelped, retracting your hand as if you’d been shocked.

The face that greeted you was impassive. Gorgeous, but impassive. A pair of dark eyes assessed you with a sweeping gaze.

A beat passed.

“Um, hi.” You introduced yourself. “I’m here for your fitting?”

The gorgeous man said nothing, but opened the door fully and nodded to indicate that you could enter.

“Thanks.” You inspected him as you passed. Shadowed, hypnotic eyes framed with long lashes and killer cheekbones. A dark mop of wild curls held back by a headband. Black jeans and a black and white printed shirt. He looked like a rock star, all right.

A rock star from a very successful band, if the size of the suite was anything to judge by. You walked down a small corridor into a large sitting room, with plush couches and giant artwork on the walls. Two of the walls, anyway, since the wall in front of you was floor to ceiling glass windows.

“Shit,” you breathed, looking out at the city skyline.

“Yeah, it’s a nice view, huh?” A voice piped up beside you. Draped across one of the couches was another gorgeous man. Only this one smiled at you innocently, nose crinkling as he did. “I’m Jungkook. You must be…”

You gave him your name. He repeated it softly, the pleasing timbre of his voice making you wonder if he was the lead singer. Then again, you didn’t know anything about the band - maybe they were all singers.

Jungkook stood, running his hand through mint-colored hair, revealing a dark undercut. Small silver hoops glittered in both of his ears, matching the hoop nestled in the corner of his plump bottom lip. He was dressed a little more relaxed than the other man (who you now assumed was Taehyung), wearing an oversized long-sleeved black shirt and black joggers. His round eyes seemed so open and pure. You could imagine falling helplessly into them.

Yeah, definitely seemed like lead singer material.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologized. “There was a problem with the train tracks and then my case broke.”

“No worries. We just got in from our soundcheck anyway, so the timing worked out,” Jungkook replied.

Taehyung continued to say nothing, just observing you with those eyes. You weren’t sure if you liked that or not.

“So, where do you want us?”

You glanced around the room. “Is there a mirror somewhere that we can use?”

“Uh, yeah. Right this way.”

You followed the men down another hallway into a bedroom. A bedroom that was almost wastefully large for being so minimally decorated, consisting of a gigantic bed, one night stand, and one armchair and table tucked into the corner. The largest tv you’d ever seen was suspended on the wall across from the bed, artwork hung behind the bed on a second wall, the third wall was all window, and the entire fourth wall? One colossal mirror.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make do,” you muttered, earning a snicker from Jungkook.

You laid your case on the bed. Jungkook flopped onto the pile of pillows at the head of the bed while Taehyung sat on the edge.

“Who wants to go first?”

“I can.” Taehyung’s voice was surprisingly deep as he finally spoke. You motioned for him to stand beside you.

He began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Um, you can leave that on. The harness will fit over any shirt, so even if this isn’t the one you’ll be wearing on stage, it’ll work fine for this.”

“I don’t wear shirts on stage.”

Oh. Well then. “Okay.”

You tugged on the zipper on your case. It wouldn’t budge. Frowning, you tugged harder, only for the pull to snap off in your hand. “Ah, shit.” “Everything okay?” Jungkook inquired.

“No. Stupid zipper broke.” And of course all your tools were inside, so you couldn’t use them to fix it. “Do you have a sewing kit around here?” As big as the hotel suite was, there was probably an entire sewing room down one of the corridors.

Taehyung stopped undressing long enough to find you a kit. Just as you got the zipper open, you managed to prick yourself with the pin. “Motherfucker!” You sucked on your finger as both men looked on in concern. “Sorry. Just… It's been a bad day.”

You missed the glance they exchanged as you finally opened your case and removed Taehyung’s piece. Holding his harness in your hands, you turned, and blinked.

If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you were back in your workspace, because the figure next to you was as cut as the realistic fiberglass mannequin you used to photograph your jewelry. Your eyes raked over Taehyung’s smooth chest and the grooves of his abs, settling briefly on the defined v line above the waist of his tight jeans before you caught yourself.

But the mannequin you owned did not have a sprawling tattoo running from its neck down its torso and around its back, an enormous mass of rambling branches and trailing flowers that almost seemed to flutter as he breathed.

“Wow. That’s some gorgeous artwork.”

He just nodded.

You carefully draped the harness over his waiting frame. He lowered his head as you clasped the neck piece, and you inhaled something sweet and floral. Surprising.

Stepping back, you marveled at your handiwork. Taehyung had ordered a black piece, with slender twists meant to mimic thorns. Set against his tattoo, you now understood the request. The metal wound around his neck twice, first as a choker, then a larger loop that connected to a chain running down the center of his chest. At his navel, the chain split to flare out over his hips.

Jungkook joined the two of you, hand reaching out to gently touch the harness that hung on his bandmate. “Wow. You made this?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” He twirled one of the thorns between his fingertips. “You have very talented hands.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“I wish I could make stuff. But I’ve been told my skills lie elsewhere.” He winked, taking a seat on the bed, reclining on his elbows, watching Taehyung spin in the mirror as he examined the chain.

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky response, watching Taehyung spin in the mirror as he examined the chain. The harness draped beautifully down his torso, the black metal accenting the tattoo and giving him a mysterious, sexy air.

As if those dark eyes didn’t do that enough.

Silently patting yourself on the back, you continued to admire the way the chain skimmed over Taehyung’s striking figure, only to stop when he asked, “Can it be tighter?”

“Tighter?” you repeated incredulously. “Well, yeah, sure, I can make it tighter, but don’t you need to move around the stage?” You still didn’t know if he played an instrument or danced or what, so you weren’t sure how much freedom of movement he’d need. “And if I do, there’s a chance the thorns could dig into your skin. Might hurt a little.”

“I can take it.”

Ooookay.

“You’re the boss,” you commented, and took the chain in your hands. Twisting lightly, you looked at Taehyung. “Is this tight enough?”

He shook his head. Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Tighter.”

You bit your lip and twisted another link. “And now?”

“Is the chain going to break?”

“No,” you scoffed, slightly insulted that he was questioning your work.

“Neither am I. Tighter.”

Your hand brushed against his chest as you wound the chain around your fingers. He was hot to the touch, yet a wave of goosebumps rippled down your arm as you glanced into his eyes again.

“Perfect,” he drawled, smirking.

His gaze lingered on your lips a little too long.

Fuck. You reminded yourself that you were a professional, and focused on the alterations you would need to make. Taehyung held the chain for you as you typed a few notes into your phone, then you snapped a few photos for reference before unclasping the harness and putting it away.

One down.

“My turn!” Jungkook sprang to his feet like an eager puppy and bounded to your side as Taehyung put his shirt back on, taking a seat in the armchair. Before you could ask about his stagewear preference, Jungkook reached behind his head and yanked his shirt off one-handed.

Again, you were greeted by the sight of firm pecs and ridiculously defined abs. These men clearly believed in treating their bodies like temples. Ones that their fans would be all too happy to worship at, no doubt.

Like Taehyung, Jungkook was covered in ink. His right arm had a sleeve of tattoos, a series of markings in various sizes and shapes that coated his arm in a chaotic collection.

“You guys really like tattoos, huh?” You couldn’t help but smile. “Way to fight the rock star stereotype.”

Jungkook grinned a sweet bunny smile, all teeth and wrinkled nose. It was rather disarming, and actually did make him look like less of a rock star cliche, so you begrudgingly gave him credit.

Then you reminded yourself to concentrate on getting the job done. You had so much work waiting for you back at your shop.

Jungkook’s harness appeared more simple than Taehyung’s in front, a simple gunmetal grey chain, no choker or loops, no thorns, hanging in a straight line down his torso and splitting at his navel. However, the back was more complex, a pattern of woven strands strung like a spider web over his shoulder blades, tapering down to his waist.

Jungkook stood still as you adjusted the harness over his form. Taller than Taehyung, he had to stoop slightly while you played with the closure. Your fingertips scraped the nape of his neck and he shuddered.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Ticklish?”

“A little,” he confessed, peering over his shoulder to watch as you straightened several kinked sections, fixing the way the web draped over his strong back. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. Yoongi-hyung said you don’t usually do fittings.”

“That’s right. And you’re welcome.” You frowned slightly, wondering why so many links were twisted where they shouldn’t be. “Why exactly did you guys want a fitting, anyway?”

He shrugged, the harness lifting slightly as his broad shoulders moved. “We take our stagewear seriously, down to the last detail. We didn’t get to where we are by doing things half-assed.”

“Hmm.” You took a step back, scouring the chain for any other imperfections and finding none. “I can understand that.”

“I’m sure you can.” Jungkook turned and grinned at you. “Yoongi-hyung said Hobi-hyung said that you were the best of the best. That’s why we chose you.”

“You chose me?” You tilted your head.

“Your shop. That’s why we chose to buy from your shop.” He bit his lip.

You couldn’t help but smile at his embarrassed expression. “I think you’re good now, if you want to take a look?”

Jungkook rotated slowly, inspecting the harness from all angles in the mirror. The delicate chain made an interesting contrast against his solid frame. You couldn’t help but admire the way the metal shone against his skin, highlighting the muscles that undulated as he moved. You also couldn’t help but admire the muscles themselves.

“Thoughts?” you inquired.

Another grin. “I love it.”

He twirled a few times, letting out a high-pitched giggle, making you laugh in surprise. His giggle was delightfully at odds with his physique. It was charming as hell.

“If you have no objections, then I’ll just take it back to my shop and polish it up without making any alterations.”

You tried to slide behind him to undo the clasp, but Jungkook jumped away. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” you repeated. “I’m taking the harness off you? So I can take it back to my shop, like I said?”

“Are you in that much of a hurry to leave?” His eyes glimmered.

Your eyes narrowed.

“The fitting is over, so I should be on my way. I’ve got a lot of work to finish up this afternoon.” You reached for the harness again, but he dodged you. “Hey! Stop that!”

He giggled, spinning around and grabbing your wrists - loosely, but with enough force that you were pulled against him. You inhaled sharply, eyes wide as you gazed up. The gleam in his eye seemed a lot less mischievous and a lot more… wicked.

“You seem stressed. A little… wound up. It must be difficult, running your own business, doing all that hard work yourself.” His thumbs stroked your wrists. “Don’t you think you deserve to have some fun?”

“Yeah,” a low voice rumbled from the corner, and you jumped. Taehyung had been sitting so quietly in the armchair for so long that you’d completely forgotten he was still in the room. “There’s no need to run off. Stay a while. Relax.”

You glanced between the two men. “Okay, I’m not really sure what you guys are suggesting, but I think I should go.” You were actually pretty sure that you knew exactly what they were suggesting. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to mess around with one of them, but both?

This kind of thing didn’t really happen, did it?

“We’re just suggesting that you indulge yourself a little,” Taehyung rose from his seat, crossing the room leisurely. With his intense gaze, the movement reminded you of nothing more than a tiger stalking its prey.

“Yeah. Come on. Play with us,” Jungkook crooned sweetly, watching you through lowered eyelashes. “We appreciate you coming here. Accommodating us.”

“Let us thank you,” Taehyung whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you realized he was right behind you. His hands ghosted over your shoulders, sweeping your hair out of the way as a pair of lips suddenly danced along your neck.

Your head spun, fragments of thoughts flitting through your mind. All those unfinished pieces waiting for you back at your shop. Whether it was unprofessional to sleep with two (two!) clients. If you should follow the likely well-worn path of a typical groupie and hook up with these rock stars.

If you deserved to cut loose. Unwind.

These were all swept aside by one incredibly loud statement: Fuck it, let’s ride.

Twisting the chain around your fingers, you tugged Jungkook towards you. He reacted immediately, lips smashing into yours. Taehyung pressed himself into your back, his hands on your hips as Jungkook’s hands threaded through your hair.

Trapped between the two men, you moaned wantonly. Two pairs of hands roamed your body. Two pairs of lips covered your skin in kisses. Your pussy throbbed, begging for attention, and you crushed your pelvis into Jungkook’s, trying desperately to grind against the erection that was jutting into your thigh.

Jungkook broke the kiss, chuckling. “Need something, baby?” he purred, nipping at your lips. You nodded, gasping as one of Taehyung’s hands slid down your front, coming to rest between your thighs. He rubbed his fingers along your crotch, the sudden pressure making you keen, growling into your shoulder as he felt the dampness growing there.

“I think she needs you, Kook,” he murmured. Just as you were starting to buck against his hand, setting a rhythm, he suddenly released his grip on you and drew away.

“Wha…?” you panted, looking back in confusion. Jungkook’s hand grasped your chin and brought your focus back to him.

“Come on, baby. Let me help you out.” He guided you to the bed, gently pushing on your hips to get you to sit. “Lie back for me.”

You did as instructed, sliding up the bed until you hit the pile of soft pillows. Jungkook followed, crawling up the bed.

But Taehyung had taken his seat in the armchair again.

“I thought…?” you trailed off as you looked at him, puzzled.

Jungkook followed your gaze. “Taehyungie likes to watch,” he explained.

Oh.

Jungkook took a moment to undo the straps of your boots, sliding them off and dropping them to the floor. His hands slid up your bare legs, stopping at your thighs, gently nudging your legs apart. You could feel your panties sticking to you as his eyes swept over you, and he leaned forward to shove your skirt up to your waist.

“Hmmm, I think you were right, Tae. She’s soaking through her panties.” Jungkook clucked his tongue. “Poor thing. You want me to remove those for you?”

You were no shrinking violet. You never shied away from using your voice. But something about Jungkook’s tone had you holding your tongue. You wanted him to take care of you. So you just nodded.

Jungkook hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, swiftly tugging them down. Once they were freed from your legs, he turned and chucked them over his shoulder, directly into Taehyung’s waiting hand.

You watched, mouth agape, as Taehyung unzipped his pants, freeing the thickest cock you’d ever seen. As you continued to stare, Taehyung stroked himself a few times with his empty hand.

Then he switched hands, rubbing himself with the sodden, satiny material.

“Oh god,” you groaned, unable to stifle yourself.

Jungkook’s face popped into your field of vision. “Back to me, baby,” he commanded, and you turned your attention back to the minty-haired man kneeling between your legs. “I want you to watch me, okay?”

“Okay,” you echoed weakly. You propped yourself up on the pillows as best you could.

Jungkook smirked, lying on his stomach, the harness biting into his skin and leaving indentations as he slid his arms under your thighs, locking them in place with his forearms. Gentle kisses flitted against your folds, and you sighed happily. Then you gasped in surprise as his tongue slid inside you, lapping at your core.

Jungkook’s gifts did indeed lie elsewhere. Namely, his golden tongue. He had you moaning in no time. You dug your hands into the plush blankets, seeking to anchor yourself as he added one finger, then a second, then a third, working you open with his hand as his tongue suckled at your clit, his lip ring rubbing enticingly. His eyes twinkled devilishly as he watched you, drinking in the way you writhed above him just as he drank in your slickness.

“How does she taste, Kook?”

Jungkook just whined, the needy sound spurring you to buck against his face in reply.

You rolled your head to the side, looking into the mirror. Taehyung’s reflection fucked his hand feverishly, an intense expression of concentration on his face. Knowing that you were the focus of that fierce gaze pushed you over the edge, the tiny mewls falling from your lips becoming a steady wail as you came all over Jungkook’s face. He let out a hoarse “Ah!” at the sensation of you clamping down on his hand, and ground his hips into the bed as he licked you through your orgasm, until you finally pushed his head away.

A stuttered cry from the corner told you that Taehyung had cum as well.

Panting, you stared into the mirror, watching Taehyung as he came down. Jungkook sat back on his heels, licking his lips, looking satisfied. You observed him through half-lidded eyes, still blissed out from your release. His erection was mouthwateringly large.

You wanted to taste him.

“How do you feel now?” Jungkook asked, hands softly caressing your calves. “Still stressed?”

“Mmmm, no.” You sat up, and swung your legs underneath you so that you were kneeling. “Definitely not stressed.” Your fingers trailed up Jungkook’s thigh.

He tipped his head as he watched your hand move towards his bulge. “Did you want to play a little more?”

“Yes please,” you all but groaned as you palmed him through his jeans. He hissed, hips lifting at your machinations.

Taehyung stalked across the room, shedding his clothes. He was already half-hard again by the time he sat behind you, his hands tugging at your shirt. You raised your arms, helping him as Jungkook’s fingers reached behind you to unzip your skirt. Within seconds, you were completely naked, Taehyung’s hands caressing your breasts as his hot breath tickled your neck.

“You need a hand, Kook?” Taehyung asked, fingers rolling your nipples between them. You arched slightly into his touch, head dropping back against his shoulder as he fondled you. “I think you should show him how talented those hands are, baby. Maybe that lovely mouth, too. What do you think - should you take care of him now?”

“Mmm, yeah, I wanna suck him off,” you managed to reply, answering Taehyung while meeting Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook wasted no time, standing to slide his jeans off.

For the second time that afternoon, you were stunned by the sight of a massive cock. Whereas Taehyung was thick, Jungkook was long, and deliciously curved. The bright red tip of his dick looked almost painful, and you held out your hands, beckoning to him to rejoin you on the bed.

He knelt in front of you, and you got on your hands and knees, crawling towards him until you held his cock in your hand. You stroked him lightly, taking the tip in your mouth, coating him with your tongue. Then you surged forward and took him in, not stopping until your nose brushed against his pelvis.

“Fuck,” he gasped. You hummed around him, pleased to take him by surprise.

Then you nearly choked, as a pair of lips kissed at your entrance from behind you.

Taehyung had dropped to the floor, burying his face in your folds as you sucked Jungkook off. He teased you with long, agonizingly slow licks, swirling his tongue around your clit, which was still sensitive from Jungkook’s petting. You bobbed on Jungkook’s dick, swallowing down the saliva that flooded your mouth, making him curse.

Jungkook’s hands were in your hair, unrestrained pleas escaping him as you worked him over, calling you baby again and again, begging you not to stop. Taehyung had one hand on your thigh, holding you in place while he continued to lave at you, the other gripping his cock.

The sounds in the room were a clash of whimpers and moans, wet sounds of mouths and hands. A filthy cacophony of delights.

Jungkook began to thrust into your mouth, and you gagged slightly, but didn’t stop him. He babbled as his hips moved. “Fuck, baby, take it all,” he wheedled, singing your name.

You moaned around him and he threw his head back. “If you keep that up, I’m gonna cum right in that sweet mouth.” You hummed again, giving your consent, but his hips stilled and he pulled out.

You remained on your knees, a protest forming on your lips, because you weren’t done with him, but before you could utter a word, you suddenly doubled over, hiding your face in the blankets instead as Taehyung sucked unrelentingly on your clit, driving you insane with pleasure.

You longed for more than just his mouth.

“Taehyung, please,” you practically sobbed. “I need more.” When did you become this needy creature, such a sniveling mess? What had these men done to you?

Jungkook climbed onto the bed, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you furiously. You lost yourself in his embrace, letting him plunge his tongue into your willing mouth as his hands roved downward, squeezing your ass.

Taehyung suddenly appeared by your side as Jungkook rolled you onto your back.

He gave you a dark look, eyes raking over your naked body. “Kook, I think she’s ready for more.” He dropped his head to your breasts, lightly teething at a nipple. “Are you ready, baby? You want Kook to fuck you now?” His tongue caressed what his teeth had just stung.

If someone didn’t put their dick in you soon, you were going to explode. “God, yes, please fuck me!”

Jungkook grinned lasciviously, leaning over to trail kisses along your stomach. “You’re the boss.”

Taehyung rifled through the night stand, tossing Jungkook a condom. Then he settled himself against the headboard, his hand lazily gliding over his cock as Jungkook sheathed himself and lined up against you.

The metal chain hanging from his chest brushed your skin as he hovered above you. He dropped his lips to yours, and with a kiss he pushed inside. He slid in slowly, making sure you were comfortable as you adjusted to his length. You’d never felt so full, your eyes falling shut as you focused on the incredible sensation.

Once the glorious stretch stopped aching, you urged him to move by lifting your hips.

Jungkook did not hesitate.

He snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace, and your eyes flew open as you began to pant. “Fuck! Jungkook!” was all you could spit out, your brain shutting down anything not related to the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head lolled back, and you caught Taehyung’s eye. He was once again staring at you as you bounced underneath Jungkook, mouth open in rapture as he jerked off. The debauched sight was overwhelming.

You wanted to touch him so badly.

Time to make them bend.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, turning your attention back to the man fucking you relentlessly. Your hand wrapped around the chain dangling from his neck, and you yanked, pulling him down. He lost his rhythm, hands stretching out to stop himself from falling on top of you. “Jungkook, stop.”

He lifted his head, a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong, baby,” he huffed, searching your face. “Am I hurting you? You wanna stop?”

Releasing your grip on the harness, you gently pushed him off of you, and he pulled out. Sitting up, you looked Jungkook in the eye. “I wanna ride you.”

“Oh hell yeah.” You didn’t have to ask twice. Jungkook threw himself on the bed and gazed up at you, quirking an eyebrow. “Hop on, baby.”

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh. Not there.” You pointed at the head of the bed, where Taehyung was watching you. “Up there.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung, who nodded. He positioned himself next to the dark-haired man, leaning back against the headboard. “Like this?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Crawling up the bed, you straddled Jungkook. Slowly, you sank down on him, both of you sighing blissfully as you did.

Then you reached out, winding the chain around your hand, jerking him forward as you began to bounce on his dick. You crushed your mouth against his, swallowing the heavenly sounds he made as you rode him.

But you didn’t forget about Taehyung. The hand not wrapped around Jungkook’s harness crept towards his lap. Tearing yourself away from Jungkook’s lips for a moment, you tilted your head towards Taehyung.

“May I?” Your hand hovered above his cock, waiting.

He nodded.

Jungkook grunted in your ear, his teeth nibbling on your lobe, as you wrapped your hand around Taehyung and began to stroke. You gripped him as best you could, unable to close your hand around his thickness.

Taehyung’s head fell back against the headboard as he exhaled a guttural moan. The sound shot straight to your core and you clenched around Jungkook, who hissed.

You slowed your pace, rolling your hips to grind into Jungkook as you focused on pleasuring both men at once. From the wordless noises he made, you could tell that Taehyung was enjoying your hand, but it wasn’t enough for you.

“Taehyung,” you murmured. He glanced up. “I wanna taste you. Can I?”

He nodded.

You were flexible, but you couldn’t bend enough to take him from your current position. So you let go of Jungkook’s chain and pried his hands from your hips. “Be right back,” you winked, and before he could respond, you popped off of him, turning around.

“Fuck, you’ve got a great ass,” he muttered, hands reaching out to grope as you laughed and began to ride him, reverse cowgirl style.

“C’mere,” you purred to Taehyung. He towered over you on the bed, cock at the perfect level. You licked your lips and took him in.

You felt your jaw pop and knew that it would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth the pain. Quickly establishing a tempo, you alternated your mouth with your hands, stroking and sucking as he stared down at you, mouth falling open again in ecstasy. His fingers clutched at his sides, and you reached out, taking one of his large hands and placing it on your head, silently instructing him to take control.

As if that was the cue he’d been waiting for, Jungkook suddenly grabbed your hips, fingers curling into your skin, and began thrusting up into you, taking over the pace of your fucking. You moaned around Taehyung, saliva spilling over as you began to drool from the way Jungkook pounded into you.

But you were at the mercy of Taehyung’s hips now, too, as he began to fuck your mouth in earnest, mindlessly burying himself in the inviting warm wetness of your mouth. Breathy grunts and gasps accompanied every lunge of his hips.

A switch flipped in Jungkook as he fucked you vigorously, a surprisingly lewd stream of drivel pouring forth from his lips. “Fuck, you like that, baby? Like the way we fuck you? So fucking hot, taking us both like this. Wanna fuck this cunt all night, wanna make you cum on my cock ‘til you can’t see straight!”

You whined, frenzied, drowning in so many sensations. You were achingly close to climax, just needing a helping hand.

So you grasped Jungkook’s hand, guiding it from your hip down to your clit, and pressed his fingers against you.

He leaned forward, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck as he breathed, “You need me, baby?”

Unable to speak or nod, you squeezed his fingers, hoping he’d understand.

He did.

You came with a shuddering cry, Taehyung pulling out of your mouth to let the sound fill the room. You turned to liquid in Jungkook’s arms, euphoric, melting against him as pleasure rolled through you. As you spasmed around him, he came as well, chanting your name as he released inside you, filling the condom with his hot seed.

Taehyung pumped his cock, panting hard. “Baby,” he gasped out brokenly, “baby, I’m gonna… where can I…”

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

He groaned as he came down your throat, dark eyes widening as you licked him clean.

Jungkook sagged against the headboard, and you smiled as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. You cocked your head up at Taehyung, and he read the question in your eyes, curling up beside you and resting his head on your thighs.

The three of you laid that way for several minutes, until Jungkook broke the silence.

“So… still in a hurry to leave?”

Hoseok called you the next morning, waking you from a dead sleep. You grumbled a hello.

“Morning, sugar! I don’t know what magic you worked with Taehyung and Jungkook, but now the other band members are asking for their own harnesses. They’re placing their orders as we speak.”

“Oh,” you grunted, your left eye falling shut as if you were trying to half-sleep while talking. “That’s nice.”

“Oh yeah!” He paused. “Hold on, text from Yoongi. Let me put you on speaker so I can read.”

You switched eyes.

“Huh, ok, looks like they also want a private fitting. Well, I don’t know how quickly you can make their pieces, but he says they’ll be back in town in a few weeks. Do you think you could arrange to meet Jin and Jimin then? They're the other guys in the band. Oh, they’re offering to host you again, said they’re happy to do it.”

You pondered for less than a millisecond. “Yeah, I can probably arrange something.”

“Great! Yoongi said they can’t wait to have you.”

A/N II: Part two coming at some point! (Update 5/24/22 - it's here!)

© 2021 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

God i love reareading this fic. Even though the twist is already engraved into my brain, the writing is so good, it's like I'm reading it with the same curiosity and excitement. @suga-kookiemonster never disappoints, fr

cloud nine | pjm

summary⇢ “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot–devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room. pairing⇢ jimin/reader word count⇢ 5.4k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | horror warnings⇢ sexual content, dubcon, blood, biting, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, honestly jimin is crazy af. just out of his got!!!damn mind 

a/n⇢  this idea has been sitting in my drafts for at least two years now, but for some reason, i thought hey, i should finally write it for jimin’s birthday. then his birthday passed and i thought that’s cool. it can be for halloween. needless to say…happy seokjin’s birthday, jimin ☠️☠️merry christmas, baby boy 💕🤣

THIS FIC IS NOT CUTE. you’ve been warned 👀 also, as i always do, i’ve been staring at this for too long and am overthinking it and idk how i feel about it anymore. but take it anyway 😭mood is this song~

Keep reading

Ugh so sweet

glasses-clad boy (m) | knj

(gif by: lilac panther)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | namjoon x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | college au. smut. fluff.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, very soft and fluffy unprotected sex with a very in love namjoon (wrap it up kids)

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You weren’t sure how Hoseok had persuaded you into actually letting Namjoon tutor you but there you were, waiting for a certain glasses-clad boy to show up.

This was a request and if you’d like to see your own come to life, please shoot me an ask, here. They’re always welcome and greatly appreciated! :)

     Tethering the pencil between your teeth, your brows furrowed as your eyes scanned the words of your essay on a blindingly bright computer screen, over and over again. You gulped, removing the pencil from your mouth as you silently cursed yourself for not listening to Hoseok when he insisted you attend the study groups leading up to this midterm paper. 

“Ah, shit.” You mumbled under your breath, eyes blinking at the words you had written. The letters danced back at you in a displayed taunt, trying to persuade you into second-guessing yourself. Your mind blanked from any content you had tried to study alone, the loose leaf paper laid in front of you—jotted with your brain vomit but proferring itself useless. The library you were sat in was as distracting as it was quiet, the clitter-clatter of other students typing away confidently let you know that they clearly had more knowledge over what they were doing far greater than yourself. You tried to prepare to write for this paper, you really did but that new Netflix show was just so good— you had to finish the first season…perhaps the second as well. 

Truthfully, you were lazy and most of the time all you wanted to do was sleep or mindlessly scroll through hours of social media, falling into the pit of all your insecurities caused by people living a much more pleasant life than you. Writing only came to you when you had the surging inspiration to do it; you were useless otherwise. And now, there you were, with less than a week to write this damn essay as the tick of the second’s hand echoed noisily from the clock that stood just above the fireplace a few feet behind you.

Straightening your spine, you twirled your pencil between your index and middle finger before clearing your throat. 

You read your words again. 

“In the end, we reach the mirage and it becomes our reality. The fearsome desert becomes the ocean with our blood, sweat and tears. But why do humans often let fear come in between happiness? In Socrates words’, ‘I was afraid that by observing objects with my eyes and trying to comprehend them with each of my other senses I might blind my soul altogether.’ We treat—”

Your immersion deflected as your peripheral caught a glance of a shadow walk past you. You stiffened, letting the gust of air that followed the figure’s arrival hit you with a scent of white musk cologne. Shuddering as the chill hit your spine, the second floor of the library seemed to have dropped ten degrees lower in temperature. You tried to will yourself from not looking up, putting your efforts to concentrate on the words blinking back at you but you couldn’t help but give in to your curious brain as you looked up past your laptop to see none other than Kim Namjoon occupy the empty table right across from yours. 

The open-planned sky roof of the some, hundred-year-old building that was your university’s library, allowed the autumn sunlight to bounce off Namjoon’s honey locks. He raked his slender fingers through them while a free hand dug through the pockets of his sweatpants-clad legs in search of his earphones. He was faced away from you, gently lifting the black, Herschel crossbody bag off his shoulder, granting you a delightful visual of the rear of his grey t-shirt stretching around his shoulder blades. Placing the bag on the table, he opened the flap of his bag to pull out his own laptop before retracting the chair away from the table to finally have a seat facing towards you. You followed his movements, eyes trailing down to his exposed, tanned arm when they tensely flexed as he coolly lifted his laptop screen open and snuggly secured an earbud into his right ear. 

You knew of Kim Namjoon from various different outlets— the first being from attending the same philosophy class as him. He had written a breathtaking piece on what it truly meant to live a fulfilled life of happiness in a time where social media tainted the authenticity of people—linking it to some of Plato’s passages. It earned him the title as Professor Jinhwan’s favourite student and it was the first time you took notice to him as you listened to his natural vibrato voice when he read it out loud in class—that was a year ago.

It wasn’t until your dear friend, Hoseok, started mentioning his name where you put two and two together, realizing that it was indeed, that Namjoon that he had been talking about. They were friends long before you and Hoseok had even met, through multiple summers of interning at some software brand named Big Hit. It always struck you as odd that Namjoon, a software engineering student would choose something as intricate as philosophy to study as a minor. Granted, you also took philosophy as a minor, however; it would have been dotish of you to not take it alongside your History major—they went hand in hand. Namjoon was a completely different story. You’d never really talked to him and you were certain he only knew of your existence from the brief mentions of your name Hoseok would drop but you doubted he cared for anything beyond that tidbit of information. 

Namjoon was very good looking, that was no secret, as you’d witness the number of girls that would swoon just from the sight of him. It certainly didn’t help that he was incredibly intelligent, aiding the fact that girls would drop to their knees in front of him in a heartbeat if given the chance. Before even becoming acquainted with Hoseok, you heard through hushed mumbles floating around campus that Kim Namjoon—the boy who came in the top 1% in the entirety of South Korea after taking the CSAT exams—was going to be attending the same university as you. But, moving forward with your friendship with Hoseok, you learned that Namjoon wasn’t much of a lady pleaser anyway. He preferred to have his face stuffed between the pages of a book rather than the legs of a woman. It was almost endearing if you didn’t think it was also a shame that he would waste such a pretty face. Even you had to admit it to yourself that the man was a sight to behold, as you stared at him, seated across from where he assiduously typed away on his laptop—god, you were the creepiest person alive.   

You peered past your screen as you observed the way Namjoon’s chin jutted out in deep concentration as he nimbly worked away on what you would assume to be the same paper as you or maybe it was a project from one of his engineering courses—you didn’t know. When his movements suddenly stopped, your eyes travelled back up to the black frames atop his nose, only to meet his own curious gaze. Your eyes widened, snapped away from his piercing stare. A hand came up to shadow your face as your head dropped down to your lap. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, fingernails digging into your palms because he definitely saw you staring and the thought of it alone made you have no doubt in your mind that your face was tomato red by now. Snagging your bottom lip between your teeth, you rearranged yourself to focus back on finishing the remainder of your essay, not daring to look back up as you felt the burn of the glasses-clad boy’s gaze remained stoic upon you. 

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What the fuck just happened 🤠my brain didn't process any of that, i need to re-read it. All i know is that it was beautiful. I'm not even American, and it brought a tear to my eye

milkin days | jjk

“There is a stallion that needs to be tamed,” he drawled, sauntering up to her. “And only a lass and her strong milking hands can tame it.” 

pairing: cowboy stripper!jungkook x fem!OC

summary: When the charming but mysterious cowboy Jungkook approaches you, you are positively smitten, drawn to him like a horse to a fresh bucket of feed. Little did you know, however, what dark secret he kept hidden behind those barn doors.

genre: cowboy au, pure crack, smut

warnings: Sexy cowboy slang. Terrible puns. You will be in tears. OC has a name but it is not the name you expect. Dirty talk. There are like 80 different words for grandma. Striptease. You will perhaps think of corn differently after this. Handjob. Surprisingly we were not high while writing this. Jungkook cockadoodle-does you. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Overstimulation. Creampie. Slight impregnation kink told through farming metaphors. Fertile crops kink. “patriotism”. 

word count: 3.9k

Header by: @kigurumu​

Authors:  @wwilloww​ @thatlongspringnight​ @ot7always​ @kinktae​ @ladyartemesia​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @ezralia-writes​ @moonmintrails​ @jamaiskook​ @krookedkoo​

A/N: A certified Crackhead Collaboration ⓒ produced by BTS Smut Hub. 

@kinktae​ hates this fic. We would also like to issue the sincerest of apologies to the farming community at large. 

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the art of war | jhs

PAIRING royal Hoseok x reader

GENRE royal au. arranged marriage au. enemies to lovers. friends to enemies to lovers.

RATING 18+. EXPLICIT.

WC 5.1K

SUMMARY The bells are tolling and you've just been married to a man you despise on Christmas Day. On your wedding night, locked alone in a room with him, tensions are rising. And so is the past.

WARNINGS enemies to lovers and banter during and before sex. use of she/her pronouns to refer to reader. multiple orgasms. fingering. praise kink. handjob. unprotected sex. creampie.

AN HAPPY BIRTHDAY @xjoonchildx!!!!!!! while this was supposed to be a drabble, the muse (dearest Hobi) has been singing especially so recently and I couldn't help myself... ANYWAYS. I am wishing you the warmest, most joy-filled birthday and year ahead of you, you deserve the entire world. Sending so much love.

And a special thank you to @dntaewithluv who read this and somehow convinced me adding 1k extra of foreplay would be a good idea.

THE ART OF WAR

The wedding bells have long since stopped their tolling, but you swear that your ears are still ringing. From the choir of twenty, from the glockenspiel that rung out above your heads as you ran from the church, from the far-too-raucous reception.

Far-too-raucous because you couldn’t comprehend how anyone could be celebrating you marrying a man you couldn’t stand in a sham of an arranged marriage. Well, your mother wouldn’t call it a sham. She would call it one of her best business moves. You, on the other hand, had a very different sentiment about it all.

You watch as Hoseok, your now husband—! the word sounds so foreign on your tongue—shuts the door behind him and throws you a small smile. It’s not the first one you’ve received from him tonight, though the others read more like the others are looking, grin and bear it, while this one seems more an accident. More, I’m so tired of this bullshit. I know you are too. But a moment after the soft expression fills his face, he’s quickly rearranging his features to something stoic, cold.

Still. Though the kind gesture shocks you and runs like ice through your veins, you don’t return the smile.

Instead, you turn towards the vanity that sits in the corner of the room.

Before you in the mirror, you hardly recognize the scene: you, in a white poof of a wedding dress, every inch the daughter of a duchess. And Hoseok, behind you, Hoseok, in his wedding regalia, the sword still tucked into his belt, Hoseok, loosening his collar. You watch as his long fingers reach and bend, his touch gentle but commanding.

But there is a small part of you that does recognize this, that remembers this, from some long forgotten daydream. A daydream of you and Hoseok, together.

You and Hoseok hadn’t always been bitter. There was a time when you were children, teens even, when you would have called him your friend. Your best friend.

There was a time when you two would crawl under the bed when your parents came calling that it was time to go, desperate to spend “Five more minutes!” together. There was a time when he used to climb the oak tree in your backyard after scaling the stone wall, and slip in through your window. A time when you would lay, side by side, staring up at the yellow paper stars that you never bothered to take down from the ceiling as you grew older. You’d tell him it was too high to reach. But when the taller boy offered to take them down for you, you’d shake your head and say you’d do it yourself, secretly happy to have avoided the funeral of your favorite decorations.

Those stars still hung above your bed in your parents manor, though these days their gaze felt more like a bad memory than anything twinkling and good. Maybe it was time to take them down after all.

As you and Hoseok had grown out of childhood, things changed. There was never a specific point that you could locate as the beginning of the end. And there were good years too, years teetering on the brink of tension and unspoken words. Years where you had grown so close that the others thought of you as destined. You would ride into the forest together in the middle of the night, stealing horses from the stable, only to go skinny dipping in the moonlight. You would write letters to one another, letters you still kept tucked beneath your bed, too afraid of what you would lose if you threw them out.

But as you neared your eighteenth birthday, Hoseok had grown more withdrawn. He would disappear for long hours into his room. And soon withdrawn became coldness as you found him shutting doors quickly behind him with a hard look in his eyes, like he had something to hide.

And the truth was, you did have something to hide. You’d taken up an interest in the art of war, particularly hand-to-hand combat. As a young woman in this day and age, it was forbidden for someone like you, especially someone of noble birth, to participate in such a craft.

When you had finally mustered up the courage to tell him that you were no longer meeting up for midnight rides because you were training instead, he had said something that had your blood running cold.

“War will never be for women.”

“War ought to be for no one,” you had spat back quickly. “So who’s to say it can’t be for me!”

The conversation had devolved into harsh words and harsher sentiments. That was the last time you both had spoken for years.

Until one morning your mother had waltzed into your room with what she had called “thrilling news.”

Thrilling news that had landed you in a white dress with Hoseok at the end of the aisle, his gaze locked on you as the bells tolled and you walked towards your fate.

At first it’s just a glance. Hoseok looking over his shoulder at you as you tinker with the bow on an unopened wedding gift, left on your vanity. It’s just one glance.

But one glance turns into a second. His gaze skating over you as you begin to undo the intricate updo that you had insisted on earlier but now regret.

“You missed one.”

“I didn’t.”

But before you can really argue with him, before you can really absorb what he’s said as an insult about your personal ability to undo your own hair, he’s gliding across the room and plucking a pin out of the back of your head.

You hold your breath in shock. His fingers linger.

Your eyes catch in the mirror and hold for a second that stretches into eons. And then you come back to yourself. You don’t thank him. You simply snatch it out of his hands with a little huff and go back to what you’re doing.

But to your dismay, he doesn’t move.

“Is that the best excuse you could come up with to get me to touch you?”

You stand up so fast your chair falls down behind you as you whirl around to face him face to face.

But you didn’t expect him to be this close, you didn’t expect him to be chest-to-chest with you. Didn’t expect his lips to be inches away from yours—

“How dare you—”

“Is it that hard to pay attention when all you’re thinking about is kissing me?”

You’re furious, flames roving through your chest like a slow burning wildfire, and he’s so close and his breath is mingling with yours, the smug bastard, his eyes ablaze with the same fire you feel—

And before you know what’s happening, your lips are crashing together. Later on, when you can’t tell up from down, you won’t be sure whether it was you or him that began it all. But in that moment, you’re pretty sure it was you.

He doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his hands swiftly around your waist, tugging you with a little huff of air to his front where you can feel something hard and very large pressing into you.

It happens all at once.

Like two stars colliding, you are hurtling towards one another at the speed of light, missing one another in your pointedness but scathing one another in your proximity.

But you keep circling back. Slower, more curious, each time.

His lips slow against yours, his breath intertwining with your breath, his heartbeat beating at the same pace as yours. He whispers your name against your lips, and for a moment, you taste sweetness. That is, until he bites down on your lower lip.

You gasp, but the inhale is not all pain.

A spark rushes through you, smothering your skin in goosebumps.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” you curse, and he grins against your lips.

You tighten your grip on him and dig your fingernails into the back of his neck, trailing them below the nape of his collar, leaving red streaks in their tracks.

But instead of gasping, just as you had, he sucks in a shaky breath and whispers against your lips, “How did you know I like it a little painful?”

A cold chuckle leaves your lips.

“A good guess.”

He kisses you again, quick, furious, all teeth and tongue and it’s then that you feel him, him grinding against you.

That’s when the reality of the situation hits you.

This is not two mere strangers — or, you have to remind yourself, two mere friends. Both of those ships had sailed a long while ago. You are something else now, something entirely foreign. And something tangled up in one another, flames stoking higher with each breath, each tangled limb and—

Somehow you’re both flustered and furious in the same moment. You pull back from him, and he looks surprised, though he quickly masks the look that darts across his face.

“What—“

“I ought to get ready for bed.”

He watches as you turn from him and make your way to the mirror in the corner, tugging at the many bows and clasps that keep you tied up in this ridiculous excuse of a dress.

“For bed.” He grins.

You glare at him in the floor length mirror, but the implication of his words warms you from within.

You have duties to perform tonight, there’s no doubt about it. And you’re not particularly adverse to the idea either, not when he looks as radiant as he does tonight, not when he kisses the way he kisses. But it’s the principal of it all, all the years of resentment hanging between you like spidersilk.

Your fingers fumble as you try to reach around back and unbutton the intricate dress and you can feel him watching you, can hear the way he chuckles smugly as you struggle.

After several minutes of trying without any luck, finally, you give up with a huff.

There’s no way you’re getting out of this on your own. You grit your teeth with the way you’re about to debase yourself, shame trickling through you like molten iron.

“Can you—” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Can you please help me?”

They were supposed to send someone to help you out of this godforsaken dress, but— your face reddens as you realize that there was someone knocking on your door while you were tangled in your husband’s arms. And that you had been far too distracted to realize what the sound was. It pains you to ask for his help.

“Pleading looks so good on you.”

“I’m not pleading,” you scoff. “You try getting yourself out of a cage of a dress.”

He chuckles darkly but approaches you from behind, his gaze challenging yours in the mirror.

“Alright. If you’re going to beg.”

“I’m not begging!”

“If you insist.”

His fingers are cold when they skate across your neck and your gaze shoots up to meet his in the mirror. He stands tall behind you, his hair dark and falling into his face, his eyes even darker, even as they catch the reflection of the hearth in them.

“It does look good on you,” he says, and you’re not sure if he means the dress or the begging. Maybe both. But as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, you watch the way his gaze narrows on the skin of the nape of your neck, as it trails down your back. And as he begins to unbutton your dress, one by one, he takes his sweet time, like he’s unwrapping some kind of precious gift. Your brow furrows in confusion.

He’s not supposed to enjoy this.

You’re not supposed to enjoy this.

And yet you do, the way his fingers grace across your skin, the way your skin warms beneath his touch. You enjoy it. You find your eyes fluttering closed, and lose yourself so entirely that soon he’s saying,

“I’m done.”

He’s still holding your dress up, in some attempt to preserve a semblance of your modesty. Though you’re not sure there’s much of it left after your earlier tryst.

A tryst you have no explanation for.

You finally nod and he lets go of the fabric. The thick winter dress falls in a heap around you, revealing the thin but warm slip they’ve dressed you in beneath. It’s the equivalent of being naked before him. He begins to look away but you’re quick to say:

“Are you so afraid to look at your own wife?”

A sly smile flickers at the corner of his mouth and his gaze darts back to rove over your body. But where they linger are your eyes.

“Are you so eager for my attention you have to ask for it?”

You finally turn towards him and stare at him for a long moment.

This is when it begins. This is when it's supposed to begin, when it's supposed to happen: your wifely duties.

Awkwardly, you reach for him.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a duty.” You say, your chest warming, your hand tracing up his torso. But as your words fall on his ears, his gaze immediately hardens. Before you can reach his chest, where you want to trace over his heart, his hand snatches your wrist.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Hoseok says sternly, his brow pressing. He gently places your hand at your side and retreats to the other side of the room. “Absolutely not.”

The care with which he says it surprises you—and yet not at all. From beneath the hard exterior, you see the young Hoseok you once knew, once loved, poking through.

“But we should—”

“We should do nothing tonight.”

“But, but they’ll come—in the morning, to check.”

Hoseok’s eyes light with recognition.

“And you care that—? Ahh.”

You frown. “What?”

“I see.” He steps towards you, his shirt fluttering open with each step forward. You can’t help it when your gaze flickers downwards.

“You can just say it,” he says.

“Say what?”

“That you want me.”

“I don’t want you,” you scoff. “I only—”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I only want you in the way a wife wants her husband on their wedding night.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok asks. “And in what way is that?”

You immediately warm at the question. It feels like he has you pinned against the wall, even when he’s half the room away. As he steps closer to you, you find yourself holding your breath.

“Kiss me,” he orders. “If you’re too afraid to put it to words.”

And so you do, and just as before, it is furious.

Lips press, teeth nip, lobes bitten, and you know you will look a mess in the morning. He kisses down your neck, biting and sucking gently at the tender skin there and you cry, “You’ll leave a mark!”

“Then they’ll know you’re my wife.”

The thought brings heat to your abdomen, as the idea of wandering out the next morning looking absolutely ravaged plays in your mind. But was this how tonight was supposed to go? You had no qualms about giving yourself to your husband, but now, now, you were giving yourself willingly, eagerly, even. Your mother had instructed you on how these kinds of marital duties were to be performed, but this, lips locked and hands roving greedily over one another’s bodies: this is no duty.

This is passion.

Even if anger still simmers in your stomach.

He is kissing you, so deeply you think he might consume you whole, kissing you like you are the only person in the world. And right now it feels like it. The world outside quiets as you kiss him back, letting the noise of society, along with all the expectations and obligations fade away until there is nothing but Hoseok. The shape of his hands pressed against your back. The warmth of his thigh between your legs. The movement of his lips, inflamed and… needy?

Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok.

His hand glides up your back and tangles with your loosened hair as he presses you to his chest.

He walks you backward, his leg slipping between the heavy, warm fabric of your slip—too warm despite the winter chill—somehow managing to not trip you. The mattress of the bed hits your knees and you find yourself sitting, looking up at the man who is now your husband, towering above you. And right in your face:

“Is someone a little desperate?” You chide, running a finger along the bulge in his pants. “It doesn’t suit you.” Though that’s half a lie, because as you look up at him, your mouth waters, struck by the absolute depravity that he looks down at you with.

“I know what might suit you,” Hoseok cuts back, unerred by your half insult as his hands rove over your body. “My desperation, stuffed in your mouth, shutting you up.”

Your eyes widen at the prospect.

“Try me.”

He grins and bends down to kiss you again, interrupting your hands reaching for his pants. You are eager to unwrap him, but he is eager to take his time with you.

Things begin to devolve in the best way possible. Hoseok loses his shirt, then his pants. “I want to see you,” he murmurs as he kisses you, and soon you have lost your slip too, limbs tangling in the sheets, and soon his cock is in your hand, and you squeeze ever so gently, just to watch his eyes flutter closed.

“Let me—” he begins as his hands trail down your body.

“You don’t know—”

He scoffs. “I think I know you well enough to know exactly how to make you come undone,” Hoseok says, and something switches within you. It’s the first time he’s mentioned anything of your past, of knowing you before your wedding night, of all of the tension strung up around you.

“Don’t presume to know me,” you say. “You don’t. Not any more.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Hoseok asks, his brow raised.

You look up at him through your lashes, but before you can roll your eyes, he grips your chin gently, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe I am.”

It becomes some kind of competition, the both of you rushing to make the other one drown in their own pleasure before the other.

And it’s true: it’s hard to stay in control like this, with his fingers dragging through your folds, circling around your clit, his mouth pressed up against your ear, whispering sweet nothings, chiding you, urging you onward. But you cling to any semblance of control you have left, wrapping your hand around his length, running gentle, teasing touches along the soft skin of his cock.

That’s when he says it.

“You’re so good for me.”

And you come a little bit more undone beneath him. Your touch falters, your breath hitches.

“Oh, does she like being praised?”

You grit your teeth to keep from nodding.

“No—”

“I love the way you touch me,” he whispers against your ear, his fingers slowing against you, building into a gradual, unerring rhythm. “It’s like you know exactly what I need, what I want.” He nips at your earlobe. “So good.” He slips a finger within you and you gasp. “So good, just for me.”

On the final emphasis, he thrusts a second finger into you and begins pumping in and out of you. The final emphasis has you clenching around him.

His.

Even as you try to push the idea of him away, his body is wrapped around yours. His body is everywhere, atop, beneath, beside you. And you don’t want the distance, you don’t want any space between you at all.

As he draws one orgasm from you, then a second, you cling to him, hands tangling in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and threading around his limbs and his back, pulling him closer. And after you’ve come a second time, the two of you lay there, staring silently at the ceiling—starless, blatantly starless—as you catch your breath. The only sounds in the room are the crackling fire and the sound of your in-synch panting.

“I don’t think you could make me come again,” you challenge, and that’s enough for him.

He rolls on top of you with a cheeky grin and nips at your ear.

“As you wish,” he murmurs, and it’s not the fight you want, it’s not the fire you were asking for, but it’s good enough, because he’s sliding his hand down your torso again. As you buck your hips up to meet the touch of his hand, his cock aligns with your center, pushes in just enough.

The both of you freeze.

Eyes lock.

“We don’t have to—”

“No, please—”

The desperation in your voice surprises you, and you swallow hard as he looks down at you.

“‘Please?’” he repeats back to you, a genuine question in his voice. “You want this?”

You nod quickly.

“Then tell me.”

You repeat your previous sentiment with a sly smile. “I bet you can’t make me come on your cock.”

“I can,” he says, capturing your lips in a kiss. “And you know that. Tell me what it is you want.”

“Fuck me, Hoseok.”

He takes his time, teasing your opening with the head of his cock, sliding it through your come and the arousal already spilling again from you as your core aches with need.

“Please, Hoseok,” you beg.

“You’re so pretty when you beg for me,” he smiles. “So messy when you’re needy.”

He lowers his weight atop you as he glides his cock to your opening and pushes in an inch. You gasp, and before your eyes flutter shut at the wide stretch, you can see the pleasure that washes across his face. It’s divine. The mixture of concentration and pure desire that dances in his eyes, the way his gaze bores into yours before he bends down and presses his lips to the concha of your ear.

As he pushes into you all the way, you think you hear:

“Forgive me,” whispered in your ear.

“No,” you whisper back.

But he’s already moving, his face pressed in concentration, that look you know too well. So serious, so firm, you think, How am I going to live with this every day? Not because you don’t want to, but because in that moment you’re filled with so much need for him that you’re not sure what it will be like to want him when your marital duties have been filled and completed and you’re stuck in a house with a man who despises you as much as you despise him.

Though, when you think about it, this hardly feels like spite.

Not with his cock moving like this, not with his hips thrusting like that, rolling so smoothly into you.

It’s so surprising, how goddamn good it feels and all you feel is anger bubbling to the surface. “Fuck you,” you groan, your fingers tightening around whatever parts of him you can reach, nails digging into his skin.

“Darling, you already are,” he spits back through gritted teeth. “And so many would just kill to be in your place.”

When he flips you over, pulls your hips towards you, and begins rolling into you again, it’s entirely different. Something about the angle, your face pushed into the soft material of the mattress, your ass jiggling with each slap of his balls against your clit, it has you tumbling forwards towards delight so quickly you can’t breathe—

“This isn’t right,” you gasp and he stills, looking down at you in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“How good it feels.”

You can hear the grin spread across his face as he begins again, his hips rolling slowly into you.

“Darling, this is exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”

“How—?”

He repositions you then, so he can look in your face, pulling you on top of his lap, before slippiing into you again.

“You’re supposed to feel good,” he says, as he begins pumping up into you. “And whoever told you you shouldn’t was lying.”

His tongue pokes out between his lips as you begin to move too, chasing your own pleasure now. He nods encouragingly as you drag your hips up his cock. Your breath hitches as he reaches up and slides his thumb across your lower lip before slipping it into your mouth.

“Tomorrow, this will be my cock on your tongue,” he whispers, and you swallow around his digit as he presses down on your tongue, your eyes wide as you bounce on his cock. “Fuck, you look so good,” Hoseok curses.

He removes his hand to kiss you, growling against your lips. His fingers dig into your ass as you fuck him. Once, he brings his hand up and slaps your ass and the sound that leaves your lips is ravished.

“Ah,” he coos. “I think I know exactly what it is you like.”

You ride him, bouncing up and down on his thick cock until you wrap your hands around his shoulders and press your chests together.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock,” he says.

He’s so close. There’s something even more intimate about this, as your breath mingles and comes in pants, both of you relishing in the pleasure of the other’s body.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you curse as he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and you cling to him even tighter.

Your pace slows, and rather than hurtling towards desire, the both of you are relishing in it.

Slowly, Hoseok lowers you to your back, leaning over you.

Hoseok is determined to—what, you’re not sure at this point, but determined he is, knowing by the set of his jaw and the way his eyes won’t leave yours. Perhaps he is simply determined to draw as much pleasure as possible from your body, because with a quick movement he tilts your pelvis upwards, and the new angle, oh. You can now feel the ridge of the head of his cock pushing into you, and as it does, it catches on a bundle of nerves within you that makes you cry out. The second thing this does is that the base of his cock now presses against your clit every time he slams into you.

There is pleasure everywhere, like swimming in some deep well of warmth.

“You’re close,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into you. “Come for me, will you?”

And it’s a request, not a command.

“Come for me,” he hums against your lips. “I want to feel you around me.”

His voice is like a deep melody and as it resonates through you, you find yourself hurtling towards the edge of your own pleasure, warmth radiating from your abdomen, and the most delicious tension strung between your limbs.

“Please,” he whispers, and that’s enough for you to break into pieces, your orgasm crashing like the far waves of the kingdom through your entire body.

He’s not far behind you, and through your pleasure you can feel his cock twitch within you. He hisses, and holds himself back from you, his eyes fluttering shut. And suddenly you realize, you want his pleasure. You want his pleasure, not for the sake of winning some competition, but simply for him.

But without thinking, you reach up for him, wrap your arms around his back, and press him to your chest. He comes with you, body trembling, words spilling from his mouth that have no meaning, no rhyme or reason. But you catch it again.

“Forgive me—”

And you realize that the anger within you has been entirely replaced with the lingering numbness of absolute pleasure.

You’re sure it will return in good time, yout think.

So instead, you let your nails drag softly up the back of his neck before tangling in his hair, pressing his face into your neck. He peppers the skin there with the softest of kisses, his body still intertwined with yours.

And you lay there for what feels like eons, his weight pressing down reassuringly, the chill of the window finally seeping into your consciousness.

And suddenly, he is standing, slipping from you, his warmth removed.

“You’re leaving,” you say, your voice flat, monotone. Not stay, not, please. A simple statement of fact.

Hoseok freezes. He turns on his heel to face you.

“There is a winter storm raging right outside that window. And while you might be sweaty and hot and all worked up right now,” You flush at the implication, “I promise you that the cold will creep in. I was merely about to warm the fire.”

“Ah,” you say, turning on your side, away from him.

But a touch and a gentle tug brings you rolling back towards him. He looks upset, and before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to press at the frown lines that decorate his brow.

“You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry that you’d think the absolute worst of me,” he says slowly. “I’m only concerned that you’d think, and think so readily, that I’d be this quick to abandon you.”

He rolls into bed, pulling you on top of him.

“I’m hardly finished with you, how could I go?”

He kisses you then, and it’s not like the other kisses. The others were fire, burning towards something larger. This, however, is different. He kisses you to kiss you, for the pleasure of it all, for the feeling of your body warming against his skin, for the knowledge that you, you want to kiss him.

And what you found, at the end of it all, is that the anger in you is a dying anger. One like a star, burnt out and blackened, striving for the life that it one was, but ultimately hurtling towards a darkened coolness. And in the place of this old, stupid, anger, is rising something new. Attraction. Respect, even.

It frightens you.

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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I read this so long ago, but god it was fun. Loved it

⇾ through the flames (and into the lava)

⇁ female reader x jungkook 

⇁ smut, fluff, slight humor, crack || dragon!jk, fantasy!au i guess

⇁ public indecency, dry humping, fingering, non-penetrative sex, cumplay, i’m sorry

⇁ 7.9k

…

Your boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims.

↳ or; the perks (and unexpected complications) of dating a fucking dragon

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I remember reading this months ago, ugh my heart

Locks and Barriers

Title: Locks and Barriers Word Count: 7K Rating: M Genre: One-shot, Post Apocalypse AU, Romance (smut), Drama Warnings: Apocalypse (Plague…so lots of death), Implied Violence, Smut Scene (Unprotected Sex, Thigh Riding) Pairings: Hoseok x Reader

Summary: One of the most amazing experiences in your life soon descends into chaos. Your trip to Seoul becoming overshadowed by a cataclysmic event leaving you alone in a city that is not your own. Your only hope? To find the man who has sent out one last broadcast to the city in search of any survivors, but you’ll have to overcome more than distance if you wish to become closer to him.

A/N: So much research went into this story. I tried to make it as real as possible looking into, locations (every spot mentioned does exist), wildlife, language (sorry if there are any mistranslations, my Korean is so poor) and aspects of life after an event such as the one you’re about to read below. I’ve never been to Seoul so I had to do a lot of searching through google maps, if you want any links to site pictures I can make a post later on although some of them have gone into the mood board.   

…

He should be here… out of all the places in the city this spot made the most logical sense. N Seoul Tower is at the very center of the city on the top of a mountain, giving you not only a useful view, but also access the necessary equipment for broadcasting. You check each floor, your newly injured leg slowly failing as you climb the steps to the top. The feeling of impending loneliness returns to haunt you. He is your last hope, where else could he be? Did he move on? Did he succumb just as the others had?

Finding every level deserted you retreat back down to the outdoor platform, dragging out cushions and chairs to set up a camp outside. Watching the streets and skies for any sign of life. Unable to use the transmission system yourself, you wait until nightfall to send out your only option for communication, an emergency flare. The shot lights up the sky before descending on the now darkened city. You turn on your small radio as you break down the wooden chairs to build a fire. The message that drew you here never changes, simply playing over and over on repeat, but you still take enjoyment from the sound of his voice. Especially since it allows you to pretend that you aren’t sitting alone.

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Damn. Oh man my heart clenches for jinnie, i think yn and him would end up really well, but THAT UOONGI SCENE WAS SO HOT I COULD BARELY HOLD BACK MY SQUEALING

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.8k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: please please please use your discretion, this chapter has one of the most intense/rough scenes of the story so far, and while it is all entirely consensual, heed the warnings in case you think they may upset you, unprotected sex, morning sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, cum eating, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, public sex, filmed sex, exhib/voyeur, outdoor sex, oral (f receiving), cum eating, nipple play, biting, rough sex, doggy style, manhandling, hair tugging, light choking, a lot of aftercare bc this needs it

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you i hope this doesn’t feel rushed or anything, eep i didn’t have time to go over it

DAY TEN

Jin’s already awake by the time you blink away the last few dregs of sleep from your eyes. Glancing at you over the top of his phone occasionally, he smiles and wishes you a good morning once he sees you stretching and sitting up.

“Mm, morning,” you hum back, enjoying the well-rested looseness to your muscles from a good night’s sleep. “I think your bed is comfier than mine.”

“Then move in,” he answers immediately, with a wry grin to let you know he’s not fully serious. “Slept good, then?”

You nod, shifting under the duvet to face him. For a moment, you just give him a bemused look. “You like to get yours done early, huh? The prompt, I mean. Wanting to get it over and done with? Both last week and this week you were one of the firsts.”

Jin’s eyebrows lift in mild surprise. Even this early in the morning, his brown hair is endearingly ruffled, and his eyes are as bright as ever, pyjamas not even wrinkled. “Of course not,” he waves away, reaching out to pat your thigh warmly, his palm resting there. “I’m an opportunist.”

Your heart hitches in your chest at the intense gaze he holds on you, the heat from his skin making you shiver. Though he was dressed in a matching set of striped pyjamas, you only had a baggy shirt and a pair of panties on, your preferred way of sleeping, and his fingers splayed broadly over your bare thigh has your stomach turning in pleasure. 

Outside, it’s silent, and judging by the early hour of the alarm clock on his nightstand, nobody else would be up. You bite your lip, letting your hand rest over Jin’s. “We’re alone,” you offer up suggestively, “I’m barely dressed, and I’m still needy from not getting to fuck you yesterday. Would you classify that as an opportunity?”

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