#boyfriend sting drabble | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1uvtae · 2 months

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i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening.

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest.

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. plus, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well.

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face.

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex.

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up.

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number.

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is.

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?”

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name.

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots.

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface.

did he quit his job?

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back”

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him.

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.”

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin, then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile.

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass.

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond.

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table.

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex) might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole.

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window.

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again.

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage.

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand.

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even bring able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch.

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones.

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you.

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night.

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch.

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?!

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n.

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him?

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up.

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting.

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?”

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance.

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution.

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door.

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning.

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well.

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it.

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.”

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested.

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you.

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace.

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded.

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment.

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.”

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.”

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?”

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook.

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower.

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out.

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer.

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?”

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.”

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.”

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men.

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake.

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…)

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that.

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps.

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching.

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it.

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button.

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp.

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other.

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. plus, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now.

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook.

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it.

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.”

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards.

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath.

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door.

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.”

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention- your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration.

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare.

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer.

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed.

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.”

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him.

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t. he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t.

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk.

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved.

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent.

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her blatantly the first night he drove her home. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act to piss you off.

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

jungkook will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time.

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different.

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him.

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it.

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again.

at least, this time it's in person, right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt.

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment.

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought.

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.”

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs.

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days.

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck,

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

825 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

just bc of that edit we need to have a drabble of dealer!jj slapping reader when she gets too bratty him and he’s so condescending about it :(

⠀ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

“i’on know what’s gotten into you, honestly…” your boyfriend lazily returns from the door, after closing it — his latest customer just having left with a stock up of jj’s product.

“what?” you sulk, knees to your chest on the couch as you paint your toenails, not even looking up at him.

“um, that attitude? you must be crazy if you think i’mma let you talk to me like that infront of one of my payin’ customers.” he grins, the malicious grin pushing him cheeks up. he only laughs in that particular way when he’s actually kind of irritated, so now your attention is fully on him, screwing up the lid to the nail polish bottle and placing it aside as your toenails dry.

“didnt have an attitude, jay.” even your tone has softened a little, like you couldn’t commit to the whole bratty thing now that your actions were having consequences. he paces infront of you, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“yeah… yeah, cool— won’t mind if i punish you anyway then, right? i mean, it’s not like you don’t deserve it. we both know that.”

he’s in the shabby plaid arm chair a minute later, spreading his knees and pulling you to kneel between them.

“you’re ruinin’ the paint job i did on my toes!” you whine, bratty attitude already back as you huff and puff at his tugging.

“cry about it.” he mutters, pulling your face closer to him by cupping your cheeks. “you asked for this, ‘kay?”

“asked for what, jj—” your sass is cut off by a slap, harder than he’s ever given you before. you squeal, going to cup your cheek.

“aw, did that hurt?” he tilts his head, giving it a unsympathetic little rub before following up with a quick succession of short slaps, just to lock in the soreness of your now burning skin.

“ow, jj.” you mewl, lip wobbling. you violently flinch when he lifts his hand again.

“yeah that’s papa t’you, young lady. the hell happened to all those manners you used t’have when we first met? if i didn’t know any better i’d think i was a bad influence on your shy lil’ ass.” he grins, so smirky and proud of himself that the words slur together a little at the end. he gives you one last good one, and the sting makes you moan, brows furrowed and eyes blown out. “mhm.” comes the low hum in his throat because he knows that look all too well.

“alrighty, think you’ve had quite enough. ge’mme a beer from the fridge and i’ll call it even.” he tickles under your chin and you sniffle, running off to return with a cold can.

he adjusts the way he sits, making space for you and holds his arms out for you to curl up on his lap. “didnt hurt that much baby c’mon, don’t be a wuss.” he smirks, holding the cold can to your cheek to soothe it before cracking it open and taking a sip. he offers you some and you shake your head.

“yeah, you’re after somethin’ else, i know.” he chides, placing the drink aside and wasting no time, pulling your skirt up to rest on your stomach. when his hand pushes your thighs open and cups your cunt, he’s greeted with the feeling of wet panties beneath his fingers. “well would you look at that. all ‘cus i hit you? damn baby. messed up.”

⠀ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

#anon #dealer!jj #jj maybank prompt

454 notes · View notes

screampied · 4 months

Note

Hiiii, first time asking for smth omfg 😨

Anw pookie, would u do a part 2 of the jealous Toji Drabble?? 🤭🤭

Love u, happy new years bbg 😻

☆ : ex bf! toji x fem!reader

⤷ tags: part one, jealous toji, makeup sex, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, size kink, wc.

an. LOVE U 2 ! HAPPY NEW YEARS <3

the dumb cocky grin that went across his lips once he heard you and your boyfriend broke up. just the thought of you, invoking yourself with toji he had to admit, he found it somewhat amusing.

and who did you always come crawling back to…

toji.

he figured, the moment he sees you at his doorstep, not even knocking using the old key you made your way inside, and the cute look on your face.

all heartbroken…almost as if your eyes were saying, ‘you were right.’ of course you’d never say that to someone as arrogant and witty as toji. he’d laugh in your face straight up.

you still can’t seem to fathom how you went from rambling to toji about your messy breakup, him doing his own version of consoling you….to you being right on all fours.

“easy girl. easy now,” he grunts, and it only took a few deep strokes for you to whine out a moan, effortlessly having your back arch against him and he groans from the way his base smacks against you. it thwacks roughly, his balls lightly sting against your skin and you furrowed your eyebrows in frustration on how good it felt. “i told you you’d be comin’ back.”

“f—fuck, toji….” you’d choke out, split knuckles rubbing against your mouth the more he rammed his hips against you. you gasp once you feel him deepen the angle, the thrusts, and he does that thing you always love.

fuck you with the back of his foot pushed up against your neck, pinning you all the way down against the pillow with just enough pressure. the softness of his sock ghosts against your neck and you’re quite dumb at this point—he snaps you out of your lewd cock drunken trance with an ass spank before groaning.

“wanna hear you say how much you missed me,” he mutters in a pure rasp, watching your body spring and jostle from underneath him. “coz y’er pussy’s just ratting you out, doll.”

“didn’t miss you,” you’d whimper out, panting and panting…..heaving, the way he’d roughly maneuver against your hips, his swollen tip just prodding and tapping against your most tender bits had your toes curling and you’re nearly shaking, “jus’ wanted to fuck.”

“girl—,” he scoffs, a hint of sass in his tone, and he suddenly stops mid-thrust, you really hated whenever he’d do that. edge you. especially if you were coming close. he lowly chuckles at your reaction. your body’s initial response, your legs spasm and your poor cunt hugs and clenches around nothing once he pulls out. “tch. say that again?”

you grow quiet and he clicks his tongue, swiping his fat tip up and down against your slit, a thumb of his running against your entrance. “you really don’t miss me, baby?”

“fuck you,” you’d moan, and he removes the slight pressure of his poor against your neck to bring a hand against it instead. “you’re so—”

“doll, you sure do talk a lot of shit for someone who doesn’t even know how to make herself cum,” toji snickers, and that shuts you up instantly. you hated his smart witty responses, and you hated even more how you’d always have nothing to reply with. just sheer silence and a stupid moan of pleasure. “exactly, nothin’ to say because y’know ‘m always right, princess.”

he was infuriating—yet all those feelings disappeared towards him whenever he was deep inside you, churning your insides without a single care in the world.

“oh, oh….you want me to finish?” he chuckles, a piercing smirk struggles against his lips the minute he sees your needy body twitch, your head faces down against the pillow and you’re just soaked. panties lazily pulled towards the side, and the way toji just abruptly pulled out made you whine.

“y-yes.” you frowned.

“but you just said that-”

“i know what i fucking said.” you muttered, and he takes pride in seeing how frustrated he made you, toji found it somewhat endearing—how needy you grew out to be all from how he’s neglecting your sweet cunt.

toji sneers, smacking your ass before rubbing the head of his cock against your slit, watching the way it opens up—desperately trying to swallow his tip but he continues to pull back, hearing you whine and spit out cacophonies of “p-please,” and “fuckin' asshole.”

“i’ll finish if you tell me in that sweet voice how much you missed me, baby.”

a sigh left your lips, and he smiles. you and him both knew in reality, you did miss toji. more than just his touch, it was more—and believe it or not, he was a good boyfriend. you still couldn’t believe the amount of voicemails he spammed you, his voice. down-talking your ex, saying how much better he is and how you probably fake your orgasms with him.

he didn’t lie.

he couldn’t please you in the ways toji could. toji knew and memorized every inch of your body, he knows what gets you off and makes you pulse. it’s just his nature.

“f-fine,” you grumbled, and he lightly flips you over, getting a good look at you, and he looked so smug and cocky. toji gives you a brief head tilt and eyebrow raise expression, basically saying for you to finish talking. “i missed you. you were right.”

“oh yeah?” he hums, leaning in to plant a kiss near the side of your mouth, he realigns himself and you brace yourself. running your nails down his back, his back that was already painted and carved with scratch marks of the tips of your nails. “feed my ego more,” and he kisses near your nose, then your cheek. “did you think about me whenever he fucked you, baby?”

“can you be serious..” you moaned, feeling his tip throb against you. he was still hard, toji grabs ahold on your leg and spreads the both of them a bit before he starts going inside again, slow to where you can feel each thick inch.

he guffaws lowly. “geez. can’t have no fun with you. was just curious,” and he’s all the way in after a few seconds — you gasp at the sudden stretch, gripping onto the backs of his shoulders and toji leans in to give you a deep kiss. you melted into his kiss, your legs go around his waist and you’re so dizzy, toji’s body rocks against you to where your legs feel nearly asleep. “but i missed you more.”

and he ends up making you cum more times than your ex could in a few minutes. toji grins at seeing you all dumb and drunk from his dick, plain stupid.

“your taste in men….is not good, you know…?” he hums, and you’re just barely being suffocated, squeezed against his chest — and he’s holding you, your arms were wrapped around his waist with a soft pout being smushed against his torso.

“…shut up and hold me.”

“yes ma’am.”

#★vegasbaby.#toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #tw sex

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loveforeren · 10 months

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This was js a little drabble I found in my notes it's Jealous? Miguel x bratty reader? Yeah

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Peter and you were talking to tell you a joke, and you laughed doubling over. You knew Miguel had his eyes on you ever since the rumor went around about you and Peter flirting even though Peter was completely in love with MJ. If you were being honest you were flirting with almost everyone except Peter. You continue to giggle as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder, and that is Miguel's last straw. Jess came to you and tapped your shoulder

"Hey...Miguel wants you in his office hurry he seems upset.." Jess says with annoyance dripping from her voice, showing she wasn't in the mood for his anger when she was pregnant.

You nod and skip down to his office knowing what was to come. You walk in with a huge grin on your face. "You called me Miggy!" You say trying to keep your mischievous giggle in.

He glares. You know that glare all too well. You watch as his platform descends to the ground.

"Come here now." He practically growls. His voice was laced with anger.

A shiver ran down your back. You could hardly wait. You waltz over to him innocently with a grin.

"Yes~ Miggy." You say still trying to keep your composure.

Seconds later you feel his hand grip your cheeks and squish them harshly. You could feel the anger seething off of him. His eyes were red and a animal-like growl could be heard.

"Don't give me that Miggy shit. Wanna explain why you've been all over multiple other spiders for the past week." He Snarled

"You've been cooped up in here for a week in this room. I was horny so I was trying to find ways or rather other men pleasure me." You mumbled due to your cheeks being squished harshly. It was a joke, but Miguel being your boyfriend didn't find it funny.

You may have been mumbling but he understood every single word that left you mouth. You watch his face as his eyebrows furrow farther than they already were. Before you could react you react you were bent over one of the panels on his platform.

"So you were being a slut." He hissed his hand on the back of your neck holding you down. This still wasn't enough for you. You wanted to be destroyed by his dick.

"Hmm~ maybe?" You say laughing.

That did it. You made him snap. You feel his tear through the bottom of your spider suit with his talon. He'll make you a new one..probably?

"You want to be a slut? I treat you like one fucking whore." He spat out his words harshly.

You feel his finger move between your slick folds before he sticks two fingers into you with no warning and roughly. You yelp from both the pleasure in pain.

"Of course a little whore like you likes this I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You won't want anyone else's fucking cock." He Snarled

His fingers are going in and out of your throbbing hole roughly with every thrust you felt your body jolt forward. You are a moaning mess at this point.

"Miguel- R-right ah- Oh God right there." You mewl out in desperation.

Just as you were about you reach your high you feel his fingers stop. You whine at the halt in movement.

"Miggy please?" You beg eyes welling up with tears

"Fucking sluts like you don't deserve it." He hissed.

You watched as the bottom part of his suit disappeared. You had heard from Lyla that he went commando under it but you didn't believe it until now. He hits your ass the stinging sensation causes the tears in your eyes to spill. Your ass was stinging and you felt another slap.

"You like the pain don't you fucking whore." He said his eyes locked on to your now tear-stained face

he grabs a hold of your waist and slams into you with no warning. It took everything in you to not scream. He was mercilessly pounding into you. You could feel his talons coming out as he gripped your waist.

"Fuck whore. You like it rough." He Snarled snapping his hips back and pounding into you.

You were too cock drunk to even reply. Sobbing and hollering loudly was all you could manage to get out.

"Hmm? I'm here fucking your brains out dirty slut, and you want another man's dick? " He questioned his hips still snapping back and forth penetrating your body. You were too cock drunk to pay attention he grabbed your face and asks again

"Do you want another man's cock." It was more of a statement than in question in the firm way he asked.

"No..no I don't want anyone but you Miggy" you mewl. If someone didn't know any better they'd say they see the heart shapes in your eyes.

Miguel continues to pound into you "What if I fill you up? What if I fill that womb up? Hmm? Make you all big and swollen with my baby then you're stuck with me." He says between thrusts. "You wanna me to fill you up? Hm." He speaking nonsense at this point.

You feel a knot in your stomach and you groaned "Miggy can I come? Can I please come?"

Miguel laughs in a mocking way "Are you going to be a good whore for me? Are you going to be mine and mine only?" He asks firmly

"Yes! Yes, I promise Miggy!" You squirmed and yell.

"Go ahead." He whispered in your ear.

Miguel fucks you through your high not switching up his pace, but after a few more thrusts he came.

You feel your entire lower body be filled with his seed.

He leans over on you with a softer gaze as you caught your breath he had finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "Am I not paying enough attention to you?" He asked with a bit of concern.

You sigh "I know you're busy. Protecting the spiderverse."

He chuckled "The arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse, but yes its a lot of work."

You sigh.

"But not as important as you I'll work it. Not working as much so we can be together more okay?" He smiled kissing your forehead.

You smile nodding. "Okay! I'm gonna hold you to that Miggy."

(A/N) I'm with my family rn so it's hard to write because yk...I'm writing smut. I'll try to post again very very soon. I have like little a drabble and a Kokushibo fanfic that will be multiple parts in the works. Along with like 5 more Miguel fics and angst Eren fic and a Jean fic and I don't even at this point. My hashtag is #loveforeren its should be right at the top and that has all my posted writing and my masterlist is pinned with rules for for request.

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diarioculto · 5 months

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KEEP IT COOL ( sebastian vettel x reader )

notes : hey everyone! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something & honestly, it’s good to be back! have this little seb drabble as i’m working on my bigger piece hehe let me know what you think of this since it was written by a very sleepy me!

this wasn’t your first time accompanying your boyfriend to the paddock. still, you weren’t completely used to the change of weathers yet.

it was a particularly hot day at the malaysian grand prix and being in the garage, surrounded by formula one cars, who tend to get extremely hot, probably wasn’t the best idea.

you tried your best to cool down your body temperature, to fanning your face with your hands and magazines to drinking the refreshing beverages that the hospitality offered you, but nothing seemed to work.

with no jacket or socks on and several drinks later, the only thing left to do was to put your hair up, but considering your poor luck, you obviously had forgotten to bring a hair tie.

“ shit. ”

you look around, searching for your dream and savior. at the end of the garage, cheerly talking to the mechanics before the session start, you see britta, who very conveniently, had her hair up. she surely had some spare hair ties you could borrow.

as you prepare to storm off after her, a familiar voice makes you turn your head.

“ there’s my pretty girl. ”

you smile at the sight of your boyfriend, sebastian, who approaches you. you greet him softly as he snakes one arm around your waist, mischievous blue eyes locking on yours.

“ a kiss for your thoughts? ” he whispers, tenderly kissing your cheek. he quickly pulls away, lips stinging at the warmth. “ woah, you’re really warm. ”

you throw him a sheepish look. bringing an hand to your cheeks, you press them softly, nodding at him. “ yeah, the weather is really taking a toll on me. ”

sebastian looks at you with soft eyes, admiring your rosy face. “ have you tried having something from the hospitality’s bar? they surely must have something refreshing. ”

“ yeah, i don’t think i’ll be going near that stand anytime soon. i’ll probably cause a drink shortage. ” you chuckle and sebastian follows along. “ i wanted to put my hair up but i obviously forgot to bring my own hair ties with me, so i was going to see if britta had any spare ones. ”

sebastian looks at britta, who still stands at the end of the garage, now working on her computer. he then looks back at you with a cheeky grin, eyes glinting as he comes up with a solution. “ no need for that. ”

you throw him a confused look as he swiftly moves behind you. suddenly, a sense of relief washes over you as your boyfriend picks up all your hair with one hand, improvising a hair tie with his bare hand. you feel a refreshing breeze all over you neck, you boyfriend blowing some cold hair onto your neck and you sigh in contentment as your body temperature finally comes down.

“ better? ” he asks, not letting go of your hair. you know he got closer to you by the trail of kisses he leaves around the back of your neck and shoulders, holding you near by your waist. you quickly feel yourself warming up again, blush all over your cheeks.

“ yeah. thank you, love. ” you turn to him with a shy smile on your lips, scared that someone else might’ve caught on your little moment. he smiles sweetly at you, fingers pulling your head up by your chin.

“ anything for you, schatz. ” he gives you a quick peck before pulling away, not something that you particularly wanted. you pull him in again, now giving him a proper thank you kiss that leaves the both of you dizzy.

“ after that, i might be the one needing a cool down. ”

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel imagine #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one

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rierice8 · 4 months

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Am I pretty?

Just some drabble cuz I really wanna get railed by dan heng while I’m in a skirt even though I’m a guy…fuck thats so hot- (new not-so-new kink???)

Warnings: feminization, use of princess, good boy, slut and doll, creampie, described as rough sex

Word count: 866

Dom!Dan heng x sub!male reader

—————

You walked out of the bathroom, covered in a blush. Your boyfriend had thrown you carelessly a bag full of clothes he bought for you in belobog, which you only realised was some lingerie and a miniskirt after you agreed to try it on for him.

That dirty minded fuck.

As you walked out of the bathroom with nothing but the lingerie and the small pink skirt on, Dan hengs face was, unsurprisingly, still stuffed in his book.

“Ahem…” you cleared your throat to get his attention. Dan heng just hummed before answering,

“Let me finish this page.”

You scoffed before walking to him and snatching the book from his hands.

“I got all dressed up in your perverted outfit and I have to wait till you “finish this page?” No fucking way. Look at me. Am I pretty?”

He laughed lightly as he looked over your form. The way the see-through lace bra laid over your flat chest, or how the skirt was barely covering your ass, how your abdomen was fully on view for him, along with the rest of your thighs and chest.

“Hmmm…is my princess feisty?”

He chuckled with a smirk.

“Yes, though, you’re very pretty, I’m glad I thought of it.”

You just blushed and furrowed your brows.

“Huh…? I…thanks uh…just shut up and fuck me then! It seems like thats the purpose of this outfit anyway!”

You huffed as you crossed your arms. Dan heng just smiled and ran his hands down your chest, pulling you down to sit on his lap on the edge of the bed he had been sitting on before. You just followed his lead, sitting on him as he lifted the bra strap ever so slightly before letting it snap back against your skin.

“Good boys don’t demand for things, they beg.”

He said into your ear as you moaned a bit from the sting.

“Fuck—fuck uh- Plea-please? Please fuck me? Please Dan heng, please?”

You begged as you tugged at his pants. He was still fully dressed and you were left in such a slutty outfit.

“Hmm…maybe…are you all prepped for me or do I need to do it,”

He asked in a whisper. Fuck how did he know that you’d already gotten off earlier today before he returned?? You bit your lip.

“Uh…a…a bit. Earlier…”

Dan heng smirked as he kissed your neck, before biting it, causing you to moan out.

“Mmh, perfect, then I wont bother.”

You swallowed hard, sure you’d done it but it’d been a couple hours, maybe it’d be a good idea to—

“Don't think baby. You can take me just fine like this, yes?”

You nodded eagerly, forgetting all your prior thoughts as you saw him unzip his pants and drop them to the floor, his boxers immediately following.

“Fuck- I need it please Dan heng…”

You whined as he pushed your panties to the side, running his hand along your cock for a bit before he lined himself up with your ass.

“W-wait- what about—”

“The skirt stays on.”

He said as he started pushing in. You moaned loudly at the stretch, it stung a lot but it could’ve been worse. You were both too desperate to have spent any longer to begin with.

“F-FUCK! Shit that- shit that's good…!”

You moaned.

Dan heng finally buried his cock in your ass fully, waiting for you to give him the sign to move. After a couple of seconds you nodded and he started moving. He didn't bother to start slowly, holding you by the waist and pulling you back down on him to make your hips meet his own as fast as he could. You threw your head back, moaning loudly.

“Shit!! Shit shit shit that's- mmh!! too much!!”

You whine out in between moans as he railed into your ass.

“You’re such a pretty slut like this, getting fucked in your brand new skirt? You’ll get it all dirty, princess”

He whispered into your ear as he kept his erratic pace.

“Mmh!! Fuck! I bet you were—NGH!—thinking of this all day—fuck!!”

You managed to get out through all your moans, trying to tease him despite slowly getting your brains fucked out.

“You know me too well…all I’m ever thinking of is you in a pretty skirt getting stupid on my cock,”

He grunted as he reached his hand to your ass and squeezed it. You whined a bit at how rough he was treating you. It was just too much for you. His nails digging into your skin as he moved to make out with you, kissing you hard and shoving his tongue into your mouth, biting your lip and swallowing all your moans.

You clenched around his cock but it didn't slow his pace at all, only making him speed up and fuck you harder.

“S-shit Dan heng!! I-I’m gonna cum— I can't—!!”

You moaned out as he grunted and thrusted harder, hitting you right in your sweet spot, making your face scrunch up as you came hard on his cock. A few thrusts after, Dan heng came inside you. You hummed at the feeling of being full, it was always the best when he came inside.

“Oh don't think we’re done yet, doll. I’m gonna fuck your ass all night.”

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djdangerlove · 10 days

Text

A little bucktommy drabble based on something I said to @evan-privileges in dms

On the first day of flight training, Tommy’s instructor had began the lesson by asking if he’d studied the manual. Tommy, eager and feigning an abundance of confidence had replied, “Like the back of my hand, sir.” “Eh,” the old man shrugged with an air of being unimpressed, “I think we’d all be better off if you’d studied it like the back of your girlfriend’s hand. Perhaps a wife? You got one of those?” And Tommy really hadn’t understood that at the time, never loved someone enough to know them in such an intimate way but in the here now, under the soft linen sheets that smell like the environmental friendly laundry detergent his boyfriend drives passed two grocery stores to buy, he thinks he gets it. Because on the mornings they wake together, Tommy is usually roused from sleep by the soft drag of a finger mapping his face. It’s a featherlight touch over the curve of his brow, a graceful trace of constellations between his moles and faint scars, and a sculptor’s delicate caress down the slope of his nose and the dimple in his chin. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to know he’s being studied, afraid that if he opens his eyes Evan will never find the courage to want to know him so intimately again, so he lays there until it stops, until Evan starts outlining his face with kisses instead. Except one morning, night actually given that Tommy can tell it’s too dark in the loft for the sun to be up, he feels Buck’s fingers on his face purposefully finding different routes around the fresh stitches in his skin and has no choice but to stop feigning sleep when he can tell Evan is crying. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks as he blinks back at him in the dark. Evan wipes the tears clinging to his long lashes with the back of his hand, but continues to delicately soothe Tommy’s bruised face all the same. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You need to rest.” Tommy tilts his head sideways to kiss assurance into Evan’s wrist. “I’m okay. I like when you do this.” An index finger comes to a stop at his temple just above the edge of a butterfly bandage. “You…do?” Tommy grins around the sting of a cut in his lip. “Yeah. I love waking up under your study.” His boyfriend continues trailing a finger down the side of his face, “You make it sound creepy when you say it like that. It’s…more than that. I…I just want to know you-“ “Like the back of your hand?” He teases before he can think better of it, the pain medicine a good excuse, but Evan shakes it off as nothing. “More than that,” he counters, brow furrowed adorably with fresh tears wetting his eyelashes. Tommy wants to reach up to dry them, but Evan blinks them away before he can. “I just want to remember you, to…to know that if anything were to ever h-happen like-“ “Hey,” Tommy does reach up after that, cupping his boyfriend’s face in his hands and catching the tears that fall with his thumbs. “I’m right here.” “You almost weren’t,” Evan breathes and shuffles to lay down beside him. Tommy turns so they’re facing each other and rolls just enough to kiss his boyfriend on the forehead. “I don’t want to-…I’m never going to forget you. I love you.” “You make it sound like forever when you say it like that,” Tommy grins as he pulls Evan into his arms. He feels a warm, damp kiss against his throat before he hears a soft, “Good.”

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy drabble #911 abc

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bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months

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pLEASE if you could write more of sub!OP men you would feed me for the entire winter (or just more luffy begging if it's no problem to you, love ur writing xoxo)

sorry for answering back so late i was absolutely out of any and all creative juice (lord help me), but i love writing sub!OP men and you guys seem to like it so here we go!! (im supposed to be on hiatus to focus on exams but writing smut never hurt nobody)

"i want to watch you fall apart, baby" ft. luffy <3

ft. (very submissive) luffy x (somewhat dom) fem!reader

set-up: you made a bet with the captain and he lost, now he has an aphrodisiac in his system and you have an insanely submissive boyfriend ;)

warnings: nsfw drabbles; nsfw stuff includes overstimulation, dirty talk, a bit of a meanie!reader, sub!luffy, all that haha; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

^^ credits to the artist!! (found it on pinterest lol)

- you knew monkey d. luffy wasn't okay - it was evident from his strained breaths, reddening face and jittery body - "luffy, you okay?" your words were sickly sweet, cutting through the tension in the room as you looked at his sweet face - it was honestly a miracle he was even sitting still and not pulling you and hovering over you as he fucked you senseless - "ugh" he groaned, palming his borderline-painful erection, "pl-ease come on, please come fuck me" you tut, making a sympathetic face, "i thought we were going to see how long you can hold back?" "yn~" his head is thrown back, features pleading with you helplessly - a smirk crosses over your painted lips, taking in his disheveled self - the menacing captain of your crew was reduced to a animalistic state. his fingers barely skimmed over his pants and even the slightest touch seemed to ignite his skin on fire "yn please, pl-ease c'mere-" his voice was strained, as if he was holding every muscle in his being from pulling you towards him and fucking you senseless till he forgot where he ended and you began - good thing luffy was always quick to react - so he did just what he had been imagining for the past seven minutes; he pulled you towards himself, reeling you in till your chest was flush against his and you teeth scraped harshly against your lips - "lu-" all your attempts to stop him were swallowed by his hungry kisses; tongue lapping against yours, teeth pulling your lip down, spit threatening to dive past his lips - his mouth moved down to your jaw then to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in its wake, "yn let me fuck you, please. please." - his hands ripped off your t-shirt and his teeth sunk down on the soft flesh across your chest. he hummed against your skin, as if relishing in the softness and the faint citric aftertaste lingering on your skin - he was going insane, harshly tugging on your nipples and pressing his face between the valley of your breasts, licking feverish stripes down, "i wanna fuck so bad, keep going till you beg me to stop, come on please" "re-really? you wanna? what do you- fuck, fu-" - without even lifting his mouth off of your sensitive nipple or opening his eyes, his hands forced yours to skim over his straining cock as if to accuse you, look what you fuckin' did to me - when your hands languidly palmed him, his face contorted till he was gasping and grinding against your shallowest touches - "don't play with me, baby, y'know-" his breath hitched when you increased the pressure and pressed down harder, "yn stop it" you laughed, a cocky sound, "what's wrong luffy?" - his eyes were wide open now, staring you down and as if he had lost of sense of himself, he growled as he turned you around so that you were face down, ass up. - a harsh smack reverberated against your ass and you moaned at the subtle sting, "i've been nice f' too long, huh? let's see how long you stay cocky with my dick down your pretty pussy."

a/n: i have another ask for the sub!op men and i was out of ideas so the others (including ace and shanks hehe) will be well compensated over there!! just hold on guys!!!

#one piece #opla #op #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece smut #luffy smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy imagine #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

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How about a little argument and make up with Gaz 👀 He crosses a line and blurts out something he shouldn't have? I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort, thanks! Congrats on 5k!! 💕💕

—Didn't Mean It

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞

You ended up locking yourself in the bedroom to have some time to yourself, head under the covers and your eyes burning from the tears you’d shed over the course of hours. It had to be well into the night now—maybe even into tomorrow if you bothered to think realistically.

An argument with your boyfriend was practically unheard of, certainly one that left you tearing up and your hands shaky. Your heart hurting.

Kyle had gotten back from his deployment a week early just yesterday, and you had immediately known something was wrong. He was having a harder time re-adjusting to civilian life—was more curt in his answers to your questions even if you were just trying to understand how to make him feel better. The entire day had been spent with him blankly staring at the telly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

The fight had started about, of all things, the duffel bag of his belongings that you’d brought into the laundry room. You can’t remember most of it, but you remembered enough.

“Gaz,” you level. “It’s a duffel bag. I just need it out of the walkway so I don’t trip over it.”

The man scoffs, but he can’t look at you.

“What, you expecting someone over?” Your face wrinkles, head pulling a bit back like your neck was on a string.

“...Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His brown eyes turn to you, burning as his hands twitch. “Having someone come over when I’m not around, yeah? Giving me a run-around?”

For a moment you’re utterly silent, not blinking as you stare at him in shock. When you gather your senses, you force out through a tight throat. “Garrick, I suggest you be careful with what you’re saying to me. You need to sit down and think rationally—it’s just a bag, this is ridiculous. Why in the world would I ever do something like that to you?”

His jaw clenches.

“I don’t need to bloody sit down!” Kyle snaps, head turning away with a bit of panic in his eyes. It became apparent pretty quickly that he wasn’t in the right headspace and he knew it. “I need to know if you’ve been fucking someone else!”

Your body tenses, eyes snapping wide. A swift silence falls between the two of you as your mouth gapes at Gaz. As if just realizing what he’d said, the man puts a hand on the back of his head and steps back, lips opening and closing.

“W-wait, I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that, Love. I…” You’re already walking away, hands at your sides clenched and tears stinging the back of your eyes like knives.

So here you were, lying on the bed and breathing low—eyes half closed as Gaz’s shadow doesn't leave from under the door. He’d been there the whole time, sitting on the floor across the hall. Waiting. On occasion he’d speak; talk about how the deployment went.

You only really listened in the dim shadows when he offered an explanation for his attitude.

“I…” His voice is muffled, but it’s still Kyle. “I held a kid as he died, Love.” You’re fully awake in an instant, eyes stuck to the dark wood. “I watched…I just fucking watched, and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to take it out on you—I…Bloody Hell, I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it. Fuck I didn’t mean it.”

The man is getting choked up, his words jumbling together as a deep pain grows over the airways. Your hand is on the handle of the door before you can remember your anger, opening it and darting across the small distance. You collide with his firm chest as the first of his sobs break out of his chest, his hands shakily curling around your back as you pull him up.

“I’m sorry,” he utters, broken, as his head shoves itself into your neck. “I’m sorry.” Again, again, again.

You hold him and he grasps onto you like a lifeboat, both unsure. Forcing down your own tears, you put a hand on his back and rub it up and down, whispering to him.

“Shh, Kyle,” he sobs, shaking. “Hey, it’s alright—I know you didn’t mean it, Love. I know.”

“Isn’t an excuse,” the man mutters into your skin, your shirt sticking to your flesh. “Shouldn’t have said that to you. I don’t even know why I did—don’t even believe it; you’d never do that.”

“No,” you whisper, reassuring him. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Pulling back, you grab onto his cheeks and level his leaking eyes with yours, wiping with your thumbs at his cheeks; brushing over the scars on his left under-eye. He sags and tries to give you a wobbly smile. A second later you speak.

“You’re stuck with me, Kyle Garrick. For all of it,” you say firmly—hard. And you say it again, and will until he believes it. “For all of it.”

The both of you stay there for a long time until your foreheads collapse into each other and you finally see the honest flicker of his lips again. You share a small, knowing, look.

“For all of it,” he utters, and slots his lips to yours; whispering apologies in between every kiss as he drags you impossibly closer.

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hoseoksluna · 10 days

Text

VAPOR, pt I. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

genre: smut, a hint of angst

word count: 10.6k

summary: yoongi never promised his healing time would be easy and when he hurts you enough that you need your other "boyfriend", jungkook is quick to rescue you.

pinterest board: blur | playlist: car playlist

warnings: mentions of a sex toy, jungkook is upset and angry at his hyung, public sex, dirty talk, sexual tension and frustration, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), bruising, cum swallowing, going behind someone's back........

note: HI MY LOVES—MY STEAM DRABBLE IS HERE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED TO POST SOMETHING, OH MY GOSH. OKAY, before i say anything else, i would like to put a disclaimer here: even though all my characters are fictional, they are still human in this world, which means they fuck up, which means they're not perfect whatsoever and never will be. i would like to really put an emphasis on that before you read and if i receive any vulgar and rude asks about this, i assure you that i will not respond to them. OKAY ALL SERIOUSNESS ASIDE—this was fucking AMAZING TO WRITE and i already CANNOT WAIT to start writing another part, this time with yoongi included. i promise to make everything right and—SPOILER—this couple WILL get a happy ending, so don't worry, my loves. ENJOY READING. SPAM MY INBOX. I LOVE YOU.

There’s a mango-scented candle rustling in a bag, resting on the passenger seat, and Jungkook is driving very carefully so as to not knock it over and possibly break it. For a moment, one that reemerges in his headspace as he keeps his foot light on the pedal, he wonders if he should buckle a seatbelt around it and ensure its safety that way, his fear of ruining his surprise for you causing his brain to come up with the strangest of ideas—in the name of the love he carries for you.

Is it love, though?

Jungkook furrows his brows, that thought seizing his sternum enough that he has to turn his music down and let some fresh air in through the window so he doesn’t crash his fucking car. Icy sweat stings his spine, his stomach churning and without sparing a second longer, his eyes take after the sadness of the weather outside his vehicle. His vision blurs and he rubs his eye, one at a time, to focus on the road.

A red light blinks at him and suddenly, there’s fury that he feels deep within chest.

Conceivably because slowing down means he has to face the onrush of emotions sloshing in him. Has to hear the rain not just outside, but inside, too. Has to feel the prick of those raindrops along his waterline. The heft of those clouds outside and inside his clavicles as well, tightening and tightening.

Jungkook sighs, drumming his fingers upon his steering wheel, trying to distract himself from it all. From the invading question that absorbs his body like the vapor rising across the night-clothed street—when did he get so emotional?

Unfortunately, he knows the answer right away.

You’ve been sad. On your own.

It’s been a few weeks since all three of you made a deal to stick together. Yoongi has been brave, his good mood clutching him for a lot longer than Jungkook sadly estimated. You’ve spent these past two Fridays and weekends together, out and about, rolling in bed, rolling in Yoongi’s apartment. It was all fun and games until the boss reached a dead end. Somehow. Jungkook still doesn’t know what it was that Yoongi actually saw—what was that one particular thing that caused him to spiral.

To relapse.

And you didn’t tell him until it was too late.

Perhaps, you did tell him—nonverbally, that is. You stopped adding your signed messages whenever he was texting with Yoongi during the week and even those alone stopped coming in as the days went on. There was something wrong and he knew it. His intuition only proved to be right when another weekend showed its face and it contained no undertone of you. And no suggestion of Yoongi either.

Silence. Dead silence.

And it wasn’t until Jungkook got an incoming call from an unknown number half an hour ago that he realized the gravity of the situation.

It was you who called him up, sobbing into the phone, having stolen his number from Yoongi’s device. As difficult as it was to understand what happened, Jungkook tied all the strings of information you gave him between your broken breaths and blubbering: Yoongi hasn’t spoken to you all day and took a shower alone, the latter being the most devastating of the two.

He felt bad for you, terribly bad for you—but simultaneously, he was upset with you.

Still is.

It’s one of the reasons why he’s driving up to Yoongi’s apartment. With a mango-scented candle and a puffed-up bag of cheese balls. He doesn’t want to think what the other reasons are, not when he’s staring down his gift for you, clicking his tongue at last and reaching over for the seatbelt and sliding it into its buckle. Just in time for the traffic light to turn green.

Now, now he’s speeding down the road, turning up the volume of his car playlist. A slow song by the Arctic Monkeys is playing and it’s a movie—the set of circumstances that are happening in the present. The rain, the tightness in his chest, the but faint adrenaline of the momentum. What is he really doing?

It feels as though he’s following a script, however his eyes haven’t skimmed down the entire thing. He doesn’t know how this is going to end. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’s doing the right thing because he’s planning on staying outside of his hyung’s apartment. Like hell he’s going inside when his sweetheart—

Jungkook purses his lips. Moves the shift stick. Kills the engine. Closes his eyes.

His heart thumps. Turbulently. It stirs worry in him. What if he’s going to die?

This is the first time he’s left in the hands of the unknown. He’s always had the sixth sense of knowing tactness like the back of his hand, although this time he doesn’t know shit. Doesn’t know if he’s breaking his best friend’s trust. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen once he sees you, possibly wearing one of your nighttime robes. The last time you touched him was the last time he had his release. His hand doesn’t feel as good as yours does—and his orgasm isn’t as fulfilling as when it’s shared with you. He’s brimming with frustration, with anger so vast that he could explode and he knows it’s unfair to be mad at Yoongi, when he himself said it wasn’t going to be easy, that it was going to take a lot of work. But Jungkook can’t help his feelings. Can’t help to see you.

Only you.

Broken, tear-stained, when it should be blush painting your cheeks red from all the love and happiness your own boyfriend should give you as it’s his duty. Something he’s responsible for. Something he should put above himself.

“Drunken monologues, confused because it's not like I'm falling in love, I just want you to do me no good and you look like you could,” Alex Turner sings and Jungkook’s chin quivers, his heart gaining tempo, his perturbation rising—owing to the violence of that muscle, owing to the state of your feelings.

He wonders if you’re still crying.

He’s outside of Yoongi’s apartment. Didn’t even realize it, mind too fucked up, too full of you.

Grabbing his phone, he sends you a text.

I’m here. Come outside

A reply pings right away.

SWEETHEART: ?

SWEETHEART: it’s raining

He’s halfway typing his response that he doesn’t want to go inside, but he decides against it. Doesn’t want to make it worse for you. If you knew of the dark corners of his mind that don’t particularly like Yoongi at the moment, you wouldn’t look at him with those pretty eyes of yours as you always do.

He can’t afford that.

I have an umbrella

As his thumb hovers above his phone, waiting for your reply, he can almost hear your sigh. Can feel your breath on his clammy palm as he rubs it on his pants in effort to rid himself of the nerves crawling in his veins. The breath he was favored enough to hold in his grasp the last time he had you to himself—clamping your mouth shut as he spanked your clit for being so beautifully responsive to his touch, rubbing it until your eyes whisked back while Yoongi slept beside you, unaware.

It’s engraved in his brain. It plays on loop before sleep overtakes him at night and it’s his first thought in the morning once consciousness reminds him that you’re not his.

SWEETHEART: is it cold outside?

He figures you’re asking the question in order to decide whether you should change or not. It seems as though warm pajamas don’t exist in your world, for the beginning of September is in the process of blooming. It nudges his anger; provokes it enough to fill it with a lethal dose of a yearning to buy you the warmest pair of pants he could find. He clenches his fist, thumb quick to type a response.

Wear something that covers your legs or stay home.

The same thumb shakes at the expression of his firmness, his anger disturbed, wholly—wholly disturbed. If you come out wearing your little shorts—

A reply pings again.

SWEETHEART: ok ill change

And another one right away.

SWEETHEART: ill text u when i come down

That’s a good girl.

He almost types it right then and there, but something within, despite the slowly calming storm of his feelings, despite his cock tightening in his pants at the swift image of your bare legs, at the lingering perception of you being a good girl and listening to him, drags his thumb to his emojis. A sudden renewal of his sixth sense, and he doesn’t understand how it’s happened as it dawns on him, makes him realize that’s not exactly what you need right now. You didn’t call him for a fuck.

You called him for emotional support.

👍🏻

And like the good girl you are, you merely take five minutes. Stay true to your words, text him as you’re coming down and Jungkook grabs his umbrella from the backseat. Doesn’t forget to unbuckle the seatbelt in the passenger seat. Saves himself from the embarrassment.

The trees sway in his direction, inviting him in, once he takes two steps at the time, coming up the stairs. He watches them through the clear roundness of his shield, beckoning him closer. The rain pelts against it, but softly this time. Merciful as it knows you’re about to emerge from the ocean of such unfathomable sadness. It doesn’t wish to frighten you, rather it desires to soothe your escaping, make it less harrowing. Even the wind that whips at him stills as soon as you open the door, bathed in light.

And Jungkook is struck with the notion that he wants to do the same.

You’re wearing flared leggings. Gray. With sneakers of the same color and a white top that hugs your waist, that seems way smaller than the last time he touched it. He gets a glimpse of it, and it unnerves him, as you lift your hand to curl a strand of your hair behind your ear because otherwise your body is shrouded in a flannel that’s too big for you. Too robust for you and your particular liking of tight, little clothes.

He doesn’t want to know who that garment belongs to. Doesn’t even want to come close to unfolding that thought, to even let it get a taste of his burning blood. Because there’s another matter at hand.

You’ve lost weight.

And he’s going to kill his hyung for it.

You step out and it’s an instinct, the way his arm draws closer to you so you don’t get touched by the rain, even if it means the raindrops get to trace the back of his head and the nape of his neck. Yet even that invigorating, tender liquid doesn’t cool the scorching lividness that takes place beneath his skin, beneath his bones. But then you touch his hand, left to left, drag it away and hide yourself in his chest. Everything changes when you do that.

Jungkook explodes. Silently. Gently. His chin quivers again and he doesn’t care that you can hear the tremor of his heart as you lay your ear against it. Doesn’t care that his grip might hurt you as he hugs you back, thinking he could wrap his arm twice around your much different waist. And he takes you like this. Back to his car. He doesn’t even feel the wetness pooling in his waterline, leading you as you walk backwards. And you laugh, you laugh softly while he inhales your mango scent that has somehow even crept up to your scalp, and he doesn’t believe it’s that easy.

It can’t be that easy to make you feel better.

He opens the door for you, a façade of nothingness plastered on his face as he tries his hardest to remain stoic so you wouldn’t see the turmoil churning within every perimeter of his body. And it’s an instinct, too, the way he catches your little purse when it slips off your shoulder, even though he doesn’t see it, too busy devouring your gaze—afraid, awfully afraid that tonight might be the last time he sees your pretty eyes, considering the contempt he’s now showing his hyung.

If Yoongi finds out about this, it’s over.

His life is over, too.

Anger, frustration, sadness, love—how is he able to feel all of those emotions at once? You purse your lips, your weary eyes skip his features all the way to his mouth, stopping at his lip ring and the question rises again in his brain.

Is it love?

The rain falls harder. And so does he, unfortunately.

“I got you something. It’s right there.” He tips his chin to the passenger seat without taking his gaze off of your busy eyes. They’re still looking at his mouth, watching every word come out. He finds it so endearing that there’s nothing more he wants to do than grab your cheeks and kiss you for it. Maybe his frustration would loosen a little bit if he did it. “Don’t sit on it.”

It’s that addition to his previous sentence that causes you to flick those pretty irises of yours up to his. And he studies it as the double meaning uncoils in your brain, even though it was by accident that it tumbled out of his mouth. The weariness in your orbs parts like clouds upon the heavens, though no sunshine spills through them. There’s still a lingering blankness, something unknown, something foreign. Then, the tiniest of smiles curls your mouth and it jolts through him, his heart thudding harder—to the point that even more profound discomfort settles in.

“Did you get me a dildo? I could use one right now.”

The perplex that seizes him almost causes his legs to give out. And he can’t help it, the way his eyes roll back and his hand, with your purse hanging from his forearm, runs down his face. Jungkook wants to get drenched in the rain—maybe if the raindrops put out the sudden fire licking at his every nerve ending, maybe then he’ll come to understand how you manage to be in the mood when your state of mind can’t possibly let you have dirty thoughts.

His cock tightens again and he calls you by your name, firmly. He can’t have this. Not right now. He needs to be sensible. You need it. “Get in the car.”

You listen, but your smile falters. Grabbing your bag from his forearm, you turn around, bending over to wrap your fist around the bag on the passenger seat. Jungkook doesn’t mean to look at your delicious round cheeks and once he discovers that they’re hidden under that layer of the hideous flannel, he sighs a breath of relief. He can’t look at you that way. Averts his gaze, immediately.

As soon as you’re seated, he clicks the door shut. Considers letting the rain have him. Did he make a mistake, being firm with you?

Inside his car, his favorite song is mellowly playing. In the mere few seconds, you’ve managed to suffuse the entire atmosphere with your mango scent and Jungkook inhales it. It takes him into a whole different world, one filled with eternal sunlight as the song portrays it. He finds himself in a country of spring that has been briskly rained upon and now is being softly seared with those shafts of light and speckles of heat, the details of your beauty.

“For the love of my life, she's got glow on her face…” the singer sings and the lyrics plod into his mind. Jungkook wishes the description applied to you at this very moment like it had before, like it had every single time he stole a glance at you. He misses your glow and your glitter and it pierces his unstable heart that he finds no traces of those particles of shimmer on your cheekbones and eyelids as you’re rummaging through the bag, not even on your cupid’s bow as you gasp, gently, discovering he bought you your favorite things.

You’re looking at him with such smothered joy and it would relieve his feelings if he didn’t feel such guilt, if he didn’t feel as though he was a crumbling pillar, a failure undeserving of your time.

You take the candle into your small hands. Such a stark contrast—his heart aches at the sight of it. You pop the lid open, sniff the aroma and your mouth rounds in a terribly, terribly cute manner. Jungkook is glad for the lack of light in the space of his car, which hides his growing manhood. He props an elbow on the door and pinches his nose, trying to regain his composure—

“It’s mango-scented,” you say in disbelief, pouting and Jungkook can’t breathe. “And cheese balls, are you kidding me?” You open the bag right away, plopping the treat into your mouth. He’s surprised you eat just one—it doesn’t feel right. “Thank you. Honestly. Thank you.” You cradle it into your chest and Jungkook has to look away.

What has Yoongi done to you that you react this way to such silly things? He needs to ask, but he fears your answer. And what’s worse, he fears what he’ll do to him once you tell him.

“What did you tell him?” He needs to get away from this place, but it has to correlate with your plan, if there even is any. If not, he’ll handle it. Figure something out.

You take a sharp breath, loading your gifts back into the bag, keeping it nice and safe on your lap. Then, you lick your lips and look at him with an intention that causes his heart to jump right there onto the wonderfully clothed flesh of your thighs. “I told him I was going home.”

Home. Since the moment he knew of your existence, your home has been the place wherever Yoongi resided. It never mattered where. Jungkook grips the steering wheel, knuckles white. “Where do you live?”

You tell him your address. He knows that from this day on, he’ll never, ever forget it. He starts the engine, wondering in the meantime about the ordinariest things of your life. Do you live there during the week and spend your weekends at Yoongi’s apartment? Or has he completely overtaken your life that you spend every hour of it in his presence? He wants to know. And he wants to get some food in that slim tummy of yours. “Do you have any food there? When was the last time you were there?”

It’s you who looks away now, staring ahead, playing with your fingers while the rest are still wrapped around the bag. “I don’t live there anymore. Haven’t been there in months.”

Jungkook bites his lip. Too, too many questions are hovering in his brain—he barely has the capacity to think about them, let alone hurl them at you. “What did he say when you told him you were going home?”

You snivel and his heart on your thighs twitches in pain. He has to grip the steering wheel harder in order not to jump out of this car and kick down Yoongi’s door.

“Nothing.”

Jungkook puts the car in drive, wordlessly, seething inside. He’ll invent another plan while yours will remain its prototype. Will keep you safe.

Safe, fed and tearless.

The drive is quiet, save for the euphonious melodies emitting through his never-ending playlist. The rain has become less severe, soft in nature, only adding to the background noise—adding to the process of your mollification that he’s overseeing. He’s put a stop to the questions. Has figured you have enough of them, for the only reason you decided to lie to your own boyfriend and go behind his back was because you needed to get out of his clutches.

A decision he approves of.

The quietness has helped him regain his composure fully, set some things straight in his brain as the anger in him slowly dissipated. Space is good, for both his hyung and you and he’s proud of you for allowing yourself to get to this point that you walked away. Yoongi, evidently, has returned to his hermit tendencies and Jungkook knows very well that it’s something that he needs in his healing time. It’s who he is; who he always has been. He didn’t push him away too many times for him to be possibly wrong about this and while the information he gained from you that Yoongi changed his ways shattered Jungkook’s heart and glued it back together, he knew, somehow, deep within him, that it was just an effort. For you.

He didn’t think it was a façade because Yoongi is certainly not a phony person.

He did it for you. Tried his hardest. And succeeded. With your help, he’s sure—which makes it all the more beautiful—but Yoongi is still Yoongi.

Someone who deals with things on his own.

And although the distance he needs hurts other people, he doesn’t mean it. Jungkook knows this just as well, despite the fact what he truly thinks is that Yoongi should try harder.

For you.

He needs to tell you this. Needs you to know. But he doesn’t think you’re ready to hear it just yet, which is okay. The plan is constructed, he’s here for you and he will make you feel better. He will caress your heart and make your belly full. Will make you forget for a little while before he gently brings you back to reality.

You deserve this. After everything you’ve been through. Because of him. Because of Yoongi.

And because of this, he no longer feels guilty that he has you to himself without Yoongi knowing. Even if that means he risks his brotherhood, even if that means he risks his affection for you seeing the light of day.

You’re more important.

It’s this thought that gets interrupted by a sudden ring of your phone. You jump, zipping your purse open and Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road. He doesn’t really want to see the kind of picture you have Yoongi saved under. He has to keep his feelings intact. Remain calm.

Your breath shakes. “He’s video calling me.”

Sparks of electricity nip at his fingertips. A surge of adrenaline, the threatening, false notion that he’s doing the wrong thing. Jungkook almost smirks. It’s so fucking thrilling to him.

He lets you decide on your own what to do, but you grow unsure, nerves burdening you. He feels that heft and it’s quick to sober him up.

“Should I get out of this car? Say I’m taking a walk?” you ask, your pretty, pretty eyes wide, your pupils so tiny. Jungkook wants to take your hand in his, take your fear that makes you think these silly thoughts and crush it.

He’s here. He’s going to take care of this. Of you.

“Let it ring.”

You look back down at your phone, lip between your teeth, but Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, the red of the stoplight pervading you with the danger of your girlish freedom. And it does ring two more times before Yoongi gives up.

Good.

You have the right to need to distance yourself just as much as he does. Give him the same silent treatment like he did to you.

There’s a smug smirk plastered on his face when he catches you putting your phone back into your purse before the light turns green. He speeds down the road, driving with just one hand, ready to unfold his plan.

One he’s already shared with you.

He’s taking you to the mall.

His hand itches to take yours as you walk beside him. Strangers stare you down, but you keep your attention on the myriads of shops lining the side of the promenade. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that there’s so many people wasting their Thursday at such a place like this. At this hour, especially. It kind of makes him regret that he took you here, despite the fact the sole purpose of it was to feed you until you were full. The lights are too bright, children are screaming and running around and it’s giving him a headache, but one look at you changes his mind in an instant. The glow he missed has found its way back to your cheeks and there’s a glint to your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long while. The paleness is gone and he’s not really ignorant to the way a bush of roses begins to bloom in his chest at the realization.

You stop dead in your tracks all of a sudden. Your little purse slips off of your shoulder. As attentive as he always is, he slides it back up, a smile tugging his mouth to the side. He thinks it’s just so damn cute. And the fact you don’t pay any attention to it as well. Probably used to it.

Red posters of sale adorn the storefront that has caught your eye. Jungkook is unfamiliar with it, but you seem to be completely enthralled by it.

“Where do you wanna eat?” he provokes. Already knows what restaurant you’ll be feasting at, obviously, but poking you is a matter of enjoyment for him. “There’s so many food courts to choose from.”

You look at him and clutch your stomach, as if the mere mention of food made you hungry. A faint, faded light flashes across that glint in your irises before it dwindles away and Jungkook is ready to throw you over his shoulder and push people off of his path to get you there right now.

“Can we… go here first?” you ask, hesitatingly, grabbing a hold of his elbow, but he feels as though you’re squeezing his heart, wringing it out of all that liquid emotion that he swallowed down earlier in the car. Your touch is warm, like the pond water kissed by the sun back at his cabin, seeping into his skin and languidly streaming through his body.

It’s automatic, primal and right, the way he clasps his other hand across your fingers wrapped around his bicep and the way your body draws closer to his. It should be normal to do this when he’s seen you bare—when he’s seen you feral, needy and disappear into your pleasure, one he’s the creator of. Why does it feel so thrilling? So dangerous?

You can meander through as many stores as you want. And he tells you that, or at least tries to, as he smiles at you, softly, and nods his head, letting you lead him inside the shop that has so vehemently caught your attention.

A trillion styles of jeans, tiny tops, skirts and shorts of the same size, Jungkook understands your fascination as he takes it all in. And he’s pleasantly surprised when you indulge him as you fondle every material of every clothing you like, telling him how pretty you find it. You’re not timid to show him your disappointment either, wrinkling your nose, when the fabric is too frail or too expensive for the price, muttering vulgarities directed to capitalism and leading him away.

It isn’t until your sight stumbles upon a rack of dresses that your breath, audibly, hitches in your throat. And you unlink your arm from his, going straight for your seemingly new obsession.

A red dress. A sheer fabric, more like. With roses sewn in, a split in the middle, one strap covering only a part of the hanger. It’s the only piece of clothing you actually take into both of your hands, putting it against your body, as if to see what it would look like on you. Fuck if he knows what you’re doing—all he knows is that his throat is dry, the image of you wearing something like this making him a living, breathing corpse.

Jungkook clenches his fists. Even more so when you disappointingly click your tongue upon seeing the price tag, putting it back where you found it. The thought of you not having that dress causing his heart to lodge, tightly and disturbingly, in the shriveled walls of his throat.

Not happening. Not under his watch.

That dress was made for you.

Jungkook licks his lips. Doesn’t stop the words from spilling out. “Why don’t you try it on?”

You give him a look as if he was a mad man. And he is. That he certainly is. “Please, this costs more than I can afford. I’d only go home crying if I tried it on and had to put it back.”

He stifles a laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Picks up the price tag. Less than two hundred thousand wons. It wouldn’t even make a dent in his bank account.

He grabs the hanger. Hands it to you. “Go try it on, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. Don’t look amused at all. Your brows knit ever so adorably and the corners of your mouth curl downwards, arms crossing over your chest. Oh, he’s going to wipe that expression off of your face. Paint it in pretty, pretty colors. “No, thanks. I think I cried enough today. Let��s go.”

You walk past him, but Jungkook stops you. Grabs your arm. Calls your name, firmly. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

You huff. “Is there something wrong with your ears?” Your brows quirk and he thinks he died again. Might melt into a putty. Just for you.

He smirks, showing his teeth. “It’s no issue for me,” he says, speaking of money, taking your hand in his and enveloping your fingers around the hanger. “So be good and try on this dress for me. Off you go.”

Jungkook turns you around and, with his palms on your shoulders, he leads you towards the dressing rooms, not stopping until he finds one that’s unoccupied. You huff and puff again, but he gently pushes you inside. And when you open your mouth to say something, he drags the curtain to the side. A laughter bubbles in his chest.

“You’re not buying this for me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Strip.”

There’s no witty remark, no exhales of your exasperated breaths, only the obnoxious music blasting through the speakers and he assumes that you gave in to him. A tendril of proudness, not of his actions but for you and your good behavior, swims in the hot bloodstream of his veins and it’s now, now that he’s almost alone and you’re out of view, save for your feet clad in pink socks under the curtain, that he perceives that he’s coated in sweat. The disorder of his colorful, all kinds of feelings has turned him so numb that he doesn’t even feel grounded in his body. He needs a strong sip of alcohol. And a good meal.

He begins to flutter the sides of his leather jacket, just to alleviate himself of how hot he feels, when he hears you gasp, your footsies shuffling on the carpeted floor. He takes a step towards the dressing room, a trembling hand reaching for the curtain and stopping there—a spasm of nerves zaps his abdomen, spreading iciness to the tips of his fingers. He knows what he’s about to see will make him a dead man for the third time this evening and because of that, he takes a deep, soundless breath, closing his eyes for a mere second before his hand pulls the curtain away.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

And nothing is what you’re wearing underneath the dress.

Abruptly, there’s no music. There’s no gasps emitting out of that marvelous mouth of yours. And the film in front of his eyes is in slow motion, accompanied by the winged fuckers going equally mad inside his stomach. You’re twirling. From side to side. Patting down the material tight against your slender body. A grin on your face, one that he’s last seen during that time joy rested in you, bathes you in a glow that he longed to see. The glint, the light in your eyes takes on a whole new intensity and it shoots embers into his bare hands, burning him ferociously and curtly—just for him to find that he likes it and that he wants more. You turn around, facing him, and you swathe him with that flaring, almost raging light. It’s the sole thing he senses amidst the numbness of his headspace.

Except for one thing.

The ruffle of the sorry excuse for a rose beneath the singular strap of the dress is but an inch above your stiffened nipple while the other, just as excited, is left bare for his eyes—as if the principle of being exposed like that awakened your body. But it’s the vast, stitched red buds of that flower across your small waist, stomach, mound and the apex of your thighs that brings his attention to this other thing that he’s aware of.

He’s hard for you.

This image of you will perpetually haunt his dreams. Your little, carmine rose tattoos as if lining your skin, mainly. His throat swallows, dryly.

Jungkook cups himself in an effort to hide his arousal and his bafflement from your stark, astonishing beauty. He thinks you’re unquestionably otherworldly, so far beyond his reach and his league that it aches. As much as the apprehension that if you wore anything else in this fucking dressing room, he’d fall to his knees just the same.

And then you speak and somehow you bring sharpness back into his reality.

“The socks go well with the dress, don’t you think?”

Jungkook glances at your feet and what he sees makes him pinch his eyes and let out a rumble of laughter. There’s a fucking Pikachu on your socks, grinning up at him, mocking him for getting hard for you for the third time.

He can’t look back up and be a witness to the magnificence of your body. If he allows himself to do so, he will combust. Bring the whole building down—

A set of footsteps sound behind him and, with a racing heart, Jungkook steps inside the dressing room, shrouding you with his body without touching you, pulling the curtain shut. You startle, backing away until your spine leans against the mirror and there’s no space, none whatsoever, for him to run from you because when he turns back around, it’s your eyes he meets first. Nose to nose, breath to breath.

When did they start making dressing rooms so fucking small?

His breath picks up speed. He wants to pretend he doesn’t see the thick veil of your feminine carnality shunning out the light in your irises, because he can’t afford this, not when you’re sad, not when you need a friend, not when he needs to be stable for you. But the more you look at him, the more you draw him in and he has very little strength to fight against it.

Averting his gaze, he props a hand on the wall beside your mirror. Notices your clothes, untidy, sprawled on the bench. Finds no traces of you taking off your underwear, which means only one thing.

His heart nearly skips a beat.

“Where’s your underwear?”

Your grin forms into a smirk and you latch both of your hands onto the sides of his jacket. Danger mingles into that carnality in your eyes and Jungkook knows, right at this instant, that he’s fucked. “Didn’t take any.”

His cock hardens even more in his hand. A brief flashback of the way he ripped your panties off at his cabin when you disobeyed him fills his mind, and he grows weak. It’s still a private pleasure of his, one that he likes recollecting, no matter the events that took place after. And the whole escapade has caused him to form a certain attachment to your underwear—or lack thereof. Knowing you didn’t take any on your first, secret night out with him suffuses him with delectation, one that intertwines with a rising question in him.

Did you choose not to wear it for the sake of the old time or did you choose not to wear it because you’re expecting something from him?

He yearns to know. Needs to.

“Why?”

Your fists bunch up his T-shirt underneath the jacket, tip of the tongue darting out to lick across your top lip. Your eyes follow the way you squeeze the fabric and Jungkook catches your long lashes quivering at your discovery of his quite prominent problem. A blush scatters along your nose and cheekbones and he doesn’t have to look down to know that his hand scarcely conceals his imprint. He’s grown harder for you in this close proximity and, peculiarly, light pervades him now that you know about his arousal, even though he doesn’t expect you, nor demand from you, to do anything about it.

“Oh, you know.” Palms flat, you drift them down his stomach. Jungkook stiffens, a forest burned by you. “It would only get in the way.”

He sucks in a breath, pressing his other hand beside your head, caging you in, his cock in full clothed glory for you. His head spins, but paradoxically, he feels himself gaining strength, as if you managed to rejuvenate him by laying out your cards on the table in such a filthy, electrifying manner.

“Get in the way of what?”

You mirror him, sucking in a breath of your own. “Get in the way of you fucking my brains out?”

A quirk of his brow. A twitch of his cock. He can’t breathe—you’ve taken all of the remaining oxygen in his lungs when you sucked in that breath and uttered those dirty, dirty words. How are you capable of this? What has Yoongi done to you? Jungkook drags his teeth up his bottom lip, although it attenuates close to nothing. His arousal only blossoms, the bush of roses in his gut thickening, so akin to your little, feigned tattoos. He yearns to feel them under his palm.

A dead man, for the fourth time.

His knees might give out. His hands are clammy.

Though his mouth acts on its own. “Have you forgotten what I’m capable of doing?”

He watches the flashback swim past your irises and it connects to your mouth, expanding it into a coy smile. “I guess I have.”

Bad, bad girl. It’s you who’s fucking his brains out, trembling like a little leaf, longing for his touch, calling out for his hands. He feels them buzz, interwoven with your senses and your desires. Even if you didn’t move an inch, if you remained still as a sculpture, his hands would still know you want them and it drives him to the peak of insanity—enough for him to consider taking you right here and there, in all seriousness. In spite of the fact he still has a mind of his own and is aware that he shouldn’t. For Yoongi’s sake, yes—but mostly for your sake.

The tips of his fingers tingle with the craving to rip that flimsy fabric off of you and make you remember what he did to you, even though you fully remember. Something about that fills him with an onrush of vigorous energy, one that needs a release. It whispers, most intensely, its plea for it within his skin.

“Do I really need to remind you?” Jungkook asks, playing your little game after all, digits clenched into fists on either side of your head. You nod, briefly, seemingly becoming smaller in his captivity, hands drifting lower, rooting by his hips. He’s surprised he’s letting you touch him like this, but then he’d let you do anything you want. He sweeps a glance at your form, just once, before he bores his gaze back into yours. It did something to you and he draws closer, senses you squeezing your thighs together. Such a cute, bad girl. “It would be a pity to rip this dress off of you. What would they think, hm? If you walked out of this dressing room and had to explain to them what happened?”

Jungkook drags a finger down your neck and at the first physical contact, you release a breath that wafts over him, deepens his heat. He traces the line of your strap until he reaches the frilly bud of the rose and tugs at it, just once.

He’s about to continue taunting you, but you catch him off guard.

“I dunno, I’d tell them I wanted you to do it. That I needed the reminder,” you whisper and your low tone of voice curls unfathomably somewhere within his gut, forcing him to double over. You hook your fingers around his belt loops and Jungkook brims with gladness that he didn’t wear a belt. “What was it that you did to me?”

He nearly, nearly rolls his eyes back. The effect you have on him—he craves to bunch your hair in his fist, teach you a lesson regarding what you’re doing to him.

And he just might. Take full responsibility while he’s at it.

Two responses swirl on his tongue, however.

One to scold you for provoking him in public, but he knows it would stall the aroused energy and back it away into a corner. The other to keep going and drive you to his level of insanity.

It’s a crossroad and he’s standing in the middle, a man in charge, his morals questioned and at absolute fucking risk. His blood pumps at full speed and sweat lines his forehead. He’s on the verge of bursting. Time and tension presses against him and with all that energy and strength pulsating in him, it’s scarcely the one he needs to put a stop to this all. It all leads into a far different direction, leading him away from the clearness of his morals.

Fuck.

Then, your chest lifts in desperate staccatos and that’s it for him. That’s the breaking point.

No way out.

Only way in.

For you.

Jungkook wets his lips. “How well can you keep a secret?”

In the same trembling staccatos, you exhale in relief and he’s ready to give you everything. Absolutely fucking everything. “I’m the best in the game.”

A flash of light in his being. He’s immensely pleased with your answer, growing hotter and hotter. He inches closer to you, flush to your body, lips by your ear. Feels your little nubs pressing against his upper abdominal muscles. Craves to sink his teeth into the delicious flesh of your ear. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he starts, mimicking your low tone, speaking of the evident elephant in the room, hoping you catch onto it. “And if they ask, you have to come up with something else. Can you do that?”

He pulls away a tiny bit, just to study your reaction. Your hold tightens on his belt loops while your mouth parts and your head nods in agreement, ever so needy but patient for his next move. He wants to lick you all over just for that, reward you until you lose your voice.

“You teased me with your words, with your little bratty mouth, and even though you listened well when I told you to lick your finger for me, you disobeyed me when I instructed you to not wear panties at my place,” he starts, lips mouthing your ear and he feels the need of your body to stabilize at the memory. Offering you his own, he presses closer to you until he pins you against the mirror, until both pairs of lungs sync in movement, his fingers skimming, barely, over the sides of your hips. Though something resistant takes place in the middle of that entwinement. Something that gives his mouth the aftertaste of copper. “And when I found out, I ripped them off of you. Fingered you so fast you came in seconds and made a mess on my hand. And then…” he pauses, an inkling regarding how to get rid of his uneasiness plaguing his mind. “Then I made you apologize and you did. You did it so sweetly that I made you come so many times until you lost count,” he alters the memory, concluding the reminder finding the aftertaste rapidly increasing, transmitting down to his heart, burdening it with a heavy load that he doesn’t know the contents of.

“Can you show me what you did? I think I might remember better if you do.”

He almost sinks to his knees, but the resistance, the coppery aftertaste in his mouth immobilizes him, keeps him glued on his spot and his hands begin to tremble. An image of Yoongi blazes in the back of his mind and, fleetingly, Jungkook sees a swift movement, a memory of getting hit. If his hyung is in as bad a mental state as he is, it’s inevitable that history will repeat itself. You haven’t received his blessing. Neither has he.

But at this very moment, he thinks knuckles to his cheek will simulate the act of a kiss.

Secrets are secrets and he’s weak.

Awfully, awfully weak.

“Is this what you want me to do?” he asks, looking you dead in the eye, lifting his chin, hoping you see his frailty—hoping you see that he’s hanging by the thread. “Finger you in this dressing room until you ruin that pretty dress?”

A smile. “Well, you didn’t get me a dildo, so your fingers will have to do.”

A sharp inhale of breath. “What about this cock, huh? You don’t want it?”

You drag a finger along his jean-clad length, barely touching him. Jungkook twitches all over.

“It’s too big for me, you know I can’t take it.”

A deep chuckle. He’ll ruin his jeans himself. “If my mind serves me well, you’ve always taken it well. Came around it a lot of times.”

You whine. This, this is your breaking point and all of Jungkook’s muscles tighten at the recognition. He’s gonna give it to you. Say fuck it to it all—his life was damned the moment he set his eyes on you. Knew he was going to die prematurely. Thinks dying in Yoongi’s hands is quite merciful. It’s his best friend after all.

“Please, Jungkook, I—”

He grabs your waist, tightly. His thumbs touch and his stomach drops. “You what?” He’s going to make you say it, he doesn’t care. He needs it. He craves it.

A mewl, one that coils around his length. “I’m so wet. I need you. Please, do something. Anything. Let’s get out of here.”

He turns you around and because you didn’t expect it, you gasp—loudly. Angels must be by his side, for your sounds get instantly swallowed by the blasting music. You can be as loud as you want, as he wants and he makes a mental note to remind you that when the time asks for it.

His fingers gather the flimsy fabric, bunching it at your waist. In the sharp light, shining down at you most perfectly, he has a splendid view of your drenched thighs and swollen clit. He presses you against him, needs you to feel how hard you made him, how rock solid his cock is at the sight of your mouth-watering filthiness. He needs you in his mouth, he needs you.

“Where?” Jungkook asks, staring you down in the mirror, brows furrowed, head tipped to yours, lips in a tight line, parting with every hardened exhale. “Where do you need me? Show me.”

You moan, ever so softly and he can’t help but grind against your ass, fingertips making dents in the flesh of your waist. You take your hand and drift it down to your sweet little cunt and Jungkook holds his breath. You rub your center, your adorable lips wrapping around your small fingers and you show him the thick sheen of your arousal, glistening in the light. Just like you did the first time he set his eyes on you, even though the paradisiacal sight wasn’t meant for him.

Now it is—and he’s nearly about to weep in joy. Such spiritual experience, swathed with gratitude and mercy, healing him through and through. This is for him. You’re willingly giving it to him. He never thought he was ever deserving of it, but now in your hands, at your service, it feels too good to be true. His eyes wet, his arousal taking a new form, becoming something bigger, more profound, something that will change him, cling to him for the rest of his life.

“Here. I want your fingers.”

He takes your palm in his, planning something with it. “Just my fingers?”

You lean your head back against his chest. “All of you, please, please.”

At your service.

Jungkook wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking your dew, swallowing it, needing more. You grow more desperate, watching him in the mirror, and your little index finger grazes his lip ring, smiling sweetly, pleased with yourself. He coos at the sight, but then you turn around, pressing yourself against him, your cunt against his thigh, his cock against your tummy, and you grab the back of his neck and pull him in, harshly, for a kiss.

You eat his mouth. He’s barely able to reciprocate your hungry kisses, the roll of your tongue, your moans at your own taste and he decides he will simply slow you down.

Reaching behind you, his fingers tease your entrance. In response, you lift your ass for him, arching your spine as much as you can. He knows that if he were to pull away, he’d see your juices in the mirror, in the stark light, but your starvation and your craving tastes too good and he physically can’t.

Gathering your slick, he drags his fingers past your parted lips towards your clit and you swirl your hips for him, outrunning him—making the tip of his digit give you the circles you want. He groans into your mouth, out of breath and it isn’t until he rubs your bud rapidly, with deep pressure, and you moan so loud that it alerts him enough to pull away.

The music did not, in fact, swallow that sound.

Jungkook clamps your mouth shut.

Without stopping his movement. Watches your eyes roll back. And he’s greedy, unfortunately so.

Turning you around, he props your leg on the bench and he looks at your pretty cunt. Swollen red clit, like your feigned tattoos, parted lips, dripping hole and equally soaked folds, glistening in the direct light. He swears, can’t help it, fondling your femininity, all four of his fingers gliding with ease, back and forth, everywhere. Down to your other hole, to your inner thighs, back up to your seashell, to your mound and lower tummy. He cakes you with your arousal, one he’s the creator of, bunching your dress higher until he’s holding you right underneath your breasts that spill over his forearm. So full and perky—he’s unhinged. Utterly, utterly unhinged.

He wants to smear your slick over those clothed nipples as well.

Fuck.

Jungkook rubs your clit again, with the same speed as before. Your eyes lid, but keep the eye contact in the mirror, ravaging him through and through. He submits to it, even though he has the upper hand, even though he has the capability to make those eyes go cross. And they do—when he sinks his fingers inside of you, middle and ring, stuffing you full. Your walls suck him in so hard that he almost loses his footing, squeezing you so hard against him that he’s sure he will leave bruises on your tender skin. He silently promises he will kiss them later.

“Is this what you wanted?” He lifts your leg, hoists it up in the air and begins to fuck you speedily, fingers curling in your spot every once in a while. He doesn’t want to make you come fast, but then time is pressing against him and he knows the mall will be closing soon. He still has to fill that belly. Would prefer if you came around his cock. “My fingers fucking your needy little princess parts, hm?”

You moan his name and Jungkook shushes you in your ear, rewarding you regardless by abusing your clit with circles, alternating between those and swiftly fucking you in your tight hole.

“I’m gonna come, Jungkook, I’m gonna come.”

He withdraws his fingers. All of them—even those wrapped around your leg. You sway on your feet, heady, panting, and he stabilizes you with a hand on your arm. He smirks at you in the mirror, fingers in his mouth and you give him a dirty look.

Before you can tell him off, he explains himself. “You’re coming around my cock, I don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

His words wipe your face off of that scowl and you smile at him. A sunshine personified. Jungkook chuckles, pushing you against the mirror with his hand on your sternum and getting on his knees.

He places your leg on his shoulder. “Hold your dress for me.”

You listen right away, ever so eager. One hand clutches the hem, the other sneaks to his hair. Jungkook likes it so much that he doesn’t waste a second and envelops his mouth around your little clit.

Just briefly. He has your dew to drink.

He swipes his tongue along your slit. Over and over, until his sweat drips in pearls down his temples and he makes new bruises on the sides of your hips. Even goes one step further and fucks you with his tongue, letting out short little breaths and soft moans against you, gone feral by your taste and your fleshiness. He takes your lips in his mouth, plays with them with his tongue. Pulls away, stares lovingly at them and spits on your clit, sucking it inside his mouth and rubbing his face in your dripping juices, licking up everything you’re giving to him.

And when your knee gives out, he catches you in time, standing to his feet. Doesn’t kiss you. Is selfish. Wants your taste perpetually on his tongue. Your eyes sink to his wet chin and you lick your lips, a feral look on your own gracing your features. You resemble a horny little animal, one that he craves to own and make his. But he can’t burden his heart with that thought. Doesn’t have the strength for it, not when he’s still hanging by the thread.

“How do you want my cock?” he asks, his own eyes lidded, darkness consuming him. “Like this or from behind? You decide. I’m giving it to you. It’s yours.”

You’re left speechless. He taps your cheek, gently, to make you talk. If you don’t, it will be his ruination and he will die. At your Pikachu-clad feet. A sweet, sweet death. Ideal.

“I—I can’t take it from behind.” A deer in the headlights, terribly cute.

He chuckles, caressing your hair. “But you have.” He grins, but it’s an answer for him. He’ll take you from behind in the safe confines of your home. “Like this, then. It’s more than perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses you, deeply, but he doesn’t give you his tongue. His heart expands, his affection crawling all around the kiss. He wonders if you can feel it.

Pulling away, he unbuttons his pants and takes out his length. He’s soaked his underwear, but he doesn’t mind. His arousal drips down and he rubs it along his tip to make it as painless for you as he can when he enters you.

And once he does, your eyes roll back and you break into whines, ones that fuck with his brain. Your leg is wrapped around his torso, but he joins the other one, holding you by your splendid little cheeks. Like his fingers, you suck him in, even though he hasn’t given you all of it yet. He’s already losing it. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him once he’s balls deep. He won’t last. He physically can’t.

Jungkook bites your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. “You want all of it?”

You tug at his hair. “Yes, all of you.”

At your fucking service.

He sinks deeper into you, hissing, furrowing his brows, sweat dripping down every perimeter of his body. Your mouth latches onto his neck and he’s gone. Even more so, when you graze your teeth upon his skin before you suck it—like he sucked your lip. He fucks you hard for it, making you let go of his neck and moan against the column. It pleases him so much that he does it again, a warm pressure coiling in his lower belly. It creates a cacophonous sound, your body colliding into the mirror and it mingles, beautifully, with the music playing. As well as the squeaky noises of your slick gliding along his cock every time he draws out.

“Who do you belong to tonight, huh?” Jungkook rasps, filling you balls-deep just like you wanted, driving into you slowly until his pelvis kisses yours. “You can be as loud as you want, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hear you but me.”

Rapid, whiny moans. He mimics their speed while maintaining eye contact with you and he groans when your eyes go unfocused, mouth parted. You’re just as gone as him. He pecks you for it, so terribly pleased. His orgasm inches closer, enveloping him with even deeper, thicker darkness.

“To you, Daddy,” you cry out and because you called him by the title, he maneuvers you. Hoists you higher on his cock, with your legs now dangling from his forearms. And like this, he drags you up and down his length, his own moans breaking at the feeling of you tightening around him. He’s gonna come now and it’s your fault.

“No, sweetheart, you can’t call me that when we’re here,” he scolds, shaking his head, brushing his lips against yours. “I can’t ruin you the way I’d like. They’d kick us out.” He kisses you, slowing down his tempo, stalling his orgasm. “Now apologize or you’re not coming.”

“I’m so sorry. I won’t call you that in—in public.”

A rewarding kiss to your neck. A hard stroke. One that blankets his vision with colorful stars. “Good girl,” he praises, looks down at you and kisses you without breaking the stare. “Now you need to be the best girl and come around my cock. I can’t fill you up—you didn’t wear your panties. I’d ruin your leggings for everyone to see.” You cry out again, the idea dizzying your mind as much as his and you tug at his hair, scratching your fingernails down his neck, touching him all over. “Can you do that for me? Can you come for me and not make a mess like the last time, hm?”

He pounds into you, the strokes so hard that the sound of skin slapping turns disturbing and he holds his orgasm for your sake, all of his muscles clenched, stars dancing across his vision, pecking your features. And that’s it for you.

You come so hard around him—and you are the bestest girl in the world because you manage to keep your eyes on him throughout the entirety of the wave of your orgasm washing over you, licking up at your body. Mouth parted, his name slipping past, a deep tinge of red, deeper than your dress, flushing your cheeks, eyes dazed, so gone, so fucked out, dark and alluring, so akin to his.

His bestest girl. His sweetheart.

He needs to pull away. He needs to come.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re tired but I need you to take off your dress and get on your knees.”

You do it so quickly, without talking back, that even his own flush finds its way to his cheeks, his heart growing even larger and hotter, winged fuckers zapping his stomach. He fucks his fist in your face, loving the way you’re watching what he’s doing for a little while with a lingering hunger before you flick your eyes to his, beckoning his orgasm out of him.

“Good girl,” he whispers, muscles straining, movement quickening. White clothes the colorful stars, the warmth in his stomach on the very brink of exploding. “Open your mouth.”

And he paints your mouth in the same shade of white. You’re so good that you wrap your lips around him, sucking him softly, making popping sounds that prolong his orgasm and he grasps your hair in his fist, gently, despite the violence of his release. He’s not just giving you his cum; he’s giving you all of his affection and when you swallow and smile at him in such a kind, beautiful manner, it wets his eyes in a way that he can’t explain.

He helps you get on your feet and you worsen his state of emotions. Like earlier, you fold into his form, hugging him skin to skin, squeezing him so hard that he stops breathing altogether. And when you begin to weep and smear his chest with your precious tears, he weeps with you.

Never in his life before has he experienced such embrace, such love unraveling in the form of tears and quiet sobs. And he doesn’t want to absolve this again. With you, it’s perfect. And right now, he could die with the utmost certainty that you’re both crying for the same reason.

Love unable to be real, to be fulfilled.

He senses it. Senses it in the way he cradles your head and wipes your tears away. In the way your lips wrap around his, kissing him as if this was the very last time. You don’t have to say a word. He knows. And it’s enough.

Jungkook dresses you. Runs his fingers through your hair in effort to fix it and make it look as nice as it did before he ruined it. And his eyes drench again when you zip him up in the meantime. No one has ever done that for him.

The warmth in his heart heightens. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible.

Taking your hand, purse and your dress, he leads you to check out. Pays for it. Carries the bag. Pretends you’re his; pretends his duties are nonexistent and his morals have different colors—just for this night. Doesn’t let go of your hand, even as he orders a good bowl of soup for you and himself, even as you sit down together and wait for your food. Even as you look at him deep in thought.

“You saved me,” you unravel, a soft, tender, drowsy mien gracing your face and his heart thuds against his ribcage, gratitude surrounding it, eyes wetting again. “Thank you. And for the dress. I’ll only wear it for you.”

The thuds halt. And it’s the only thing that does—a tear rolls down his cheek and he can’t truly believe he’s baring his feelings like that for you, in front of you. He feels as though he was dreaming and he fears he’s going to stir to awakening any moment now.

A waiter brings your food. None of you pay him any kind of attention, though you don’t forget to say your thank you’s.

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, despite the fact no words rise on his tongue, but something interrupts him.

His phone rings.

And it’s none other than his hyung himself.

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#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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freyito · 7 months

Text

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ + ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ-ꜱᴛᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

this ones super self-indulgent, simply cause im in a bit of a mood and i need comfort. so why not write little drabbles with my HUSBANDS!!!! sorry im still working on requests! my schedule is packed and thursdays are about the only days i get to myself, so im working on them, i swear!!!

for more context, there's a couple different ways people can be touch-starved and how people react. i know some people seek out touch actively, but im one of the people who has an aversion to it. that's why it's written like the reader doesn't quite enjoy it!

also, this was kind of inspired by Kocham Wolność by Chłopcy z Placu Broni

cw: male reader, just fluff really, bonus, proofread

-Johnny Cage

Johnny's flashy, touchy, and over-the-top. Of course he is, he has to be. With his status, he wants everyone to know exactly who you are and show you off. You're all his, and only his, and he needs every single one of his fans to know.

So when you shy away from his touch, dodge away from his hand, or even keep your distance the very first time, his heart shatters. He doesn't quite know how to handle it. But he doesn't go with the same approach. He doesn't give up, either.

He's a sucker for physical touch, and if he's denied it, he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He quite literally looks down at them and wonders what he can do.

His first thought is that you dislike him, actually. That you hate him. He has a deep-seated fear of rejection, and for his beloved to turn away from his warmth and love, it stings. He overthinks, and he reacts as such.

Johnny is a 50/50 with being logical. It depends where he is and what environment he is in. However, with love, where he is completely and utterly vulnerable, giving his all to his boyfriend, logic does not take place with his emotions. He does not think that you do not seek the touch he seeks, he craves.

But, before he can let that vile, horrid, agonizing feeling in the back of his throat take hold, there's slight reassurance. A soft gaze that mends his broken heart, if only for a moment. That's when he finally rationalizes.

You don't even need to tell him at that point, he silently understands. Besides, he has other ways he can show his love for you. Spoils you rotten, tells you all he loves about you. See, he can find ways to make up for the lack of physical touch!

Johnny makes sure to ask you before any physical encounter. He asks to hold your hand, asks to hug you, asks to hold you, asks everything. And each time you say yes, he has the biggest grin on his face.

One night, while you two were sitting on the hood of Johnny's car by some cliff,- like those stupid romantic scenes in movies- you lean over to Johnny and rest your head on his shoulder. Your arms are touching, his shoulder provides a comfortable pillow. You feel safe. Gazing at the very few stars scattered in the sky, the night sky's beauty stolen by the city below (and by you, Johnny says). Johnny's beaming. He's trying so hard not to show it, he's trying to act cool. But he can't. He's almost vibrating because of the butterflies in his stomach. He's proud of you, he's in love with you, and god, he's so happy. He leans his head on yours, and whisper all sorts of sweet things, 'I love you', 'You mean so much to me', 'You're the most beautiful man I know', and 'Thank you'.

-Kenshi Takahashi

Since Kenshi focuses on touch mainly in the relationship, he has to re-evaluate how he goes about this without touch. He doesn't start off with it, like Johnny does. But he slowly builds up to it. And when he tries to place a hand on your shoulder, feeling you completely dodge him almost feels humbling.

He's at a loss. But unlike Johnny, his first thought is the right one. Perhaps you aren't ready, you aren't comfortable. And that's okay. He's going to think of different ways to seek out your affection, even though physical touch is the only way he really understands love.

But, he also understands. He knows what it's like to dislike touch, after years of hollow touch and forced affection. And he understands if you just don't trust him enough, he's empathetic.

He'll wait for you, however long it takes. He isn't afraid to admit it's a bit disheartening, but he understands and he loves you and he will always wait for you. He still cherishes your time together, and it isn't spoiled one bit. Besides, he can tell you just how much he adores you. He doesn't have to rely on touch every time.

Like Johnny, he will always ask. But he does prefer that you make the first move, at that point. Any little touch, he also cherishes. Even if it's your hand accidentally brushing against his while walking. You always catch a small smile from him when that happens.

He's happy as is, really. The lack of physical touch doesn't take away anything from the relationship or from you. Simply basking in your presence is enough for you. He adores you, and he knows you're his as much as he's yours. That understanding is really the only thing he craves in the relationship.

He relishes in every little touch you give him, however. Simply holding hands is the most intimate thing to him. He isn't big on PDA, but he loves holding your hand anywhere in public. Even if Sento offers slight guidance to him, he loves knowing you're there to guide him.

The night you finally initiated contact, he fell deeper in love with you. It was quiet, alone, still. In your room, you lay next to him, simply enjoying the pleasures of the mundane. You reach for his hand, and gently trace the ink on his hands. He's calm, collected, but inside burns a fire so bright, that you can feel his body temperature rise. He slowly turns his hand, opening his palm to you. For a moment, your fingers linger, tracing the creases in his hand, before finally intertwining your fingers with his. He turns his head to you, a soft and inviting small on his face. He breaks the silence, whispering an 'I love you, so much', before the silence lay over you two once more.

-Bonus! Johnny Cage AND Kenshi Takahashi

They both agree not to smother you and take their time with you and your comfort. Since most dates and activities will always center around all three of you, they're specifically gentle with you, and are rather hands off with both you and each other (as hard as that is for them).

Just because they are comfortable with each other and each other's touch, doesn't mean they are going to flaunt it. Kenshi believes the ideal is to slowly incorporate you into events. To suffocate you with the idea of touch is too much.

And they do just that. Johnny follows Kenshi's lead, really. Neither of them can live without your touch, and the idea of turning you away is a mutual fear.

When you found yourself between Kenshi and Johnny, simply "watching" a movie from Johnny Dearest, you ended up placing your head in Kenshi's lap, and your legs in Johnny's. You were tired, that was all. Just so happens you had the most comfortable men to lay on. Johnny gave Kenshi the most bewildered look, before realizing the man was still blind. But regardless, Kenshi almost shared the sentiment. However, Kenshi didn't waste his chance. He places his hand on your head, scratching at your scalp. While Johnny just revels in the fact that you've finally warmed up to them.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x male reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x male reader #johny cage x reader x kenshi takahashi

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runa-falls · 10 months

Text

love bite pt. 2

pairing: jake lockely x reader

warnings: explicit (18+), smut, biting, marking, cockwarming, pain kink, creampie

a/n: second part to the love bite drabble i did with steven :3 - i like to imagine jake looking like santiago so that's why the gif is there 🫠

w/c: 1030 (it looks like the number is kissing you 🤭)

masterlist

---

“Baby, what the fuck!"

A slap against the side of your thigh forces you to dislodge your canines from his shoulder. You groan, thighs squeezing around his waist in response to the residual sting that fizzes under your skin.

Your lips press over his warm skin as you lean against him, "Hm?"

"What -- Why did you bite me?!"

Dammit, it happened again. That urge that pushes you to the edge, to have your boyfriend right where you want him. The need to feel him in your mouth and taste his essence. The biological response that itches in the back of your mind telling you to bite him.

Jake has had you on his lap for an hour now, making you warm his cock while he reads on the couch. It’s his favorite way to unwind during the evening and he caught you just before you were heading to bed. Perfect timing since he loves it when you’re all sleepy and pliable for him.

It took you 15 minutes to get used to the stretch, and 15 more to stop fidgeting on top of him. The rest of the time you've been lulled to a dull haze of consciousness, eyelids heavy with pleasurable exhaustion.

Your eyes were locked on his soft tan skin as you rested your head on his shoulder. Distracting yourself with the splatter of freckles that dot constellations over his shoulder and down his back as you try to hold yourself back from grinding against him. You got lost, mind hazy with delirious lust, and didn't even realize you bit him until he started to scold you.

Bleary thoughts streamed through your mind, thoughts of needing to taste the salty sweetness of his skin, to feel his muscles tense under your teeth, to feel him twitch inside of you from surprise and growl as he loses composure. The irresistible urge to see the hidden pain kink that he'll never admit to.

You act dumb, “Did I?” Your voice is hoarse and vacant as you slowly wake back up.

His hand harshly grips your waist and pushes you down on his lap, shoving his cock impossibly further inside of you. You gasp at the feeling, trying to sit up to alleviate the intense feeling that flushes through your center. Jake won’t let you move.

“You did.” He tosses his book to the side, chuckling as you whine against his hold. You can feel the beginning of an orgasm thrumming through your body, you’re at the cusp of ecstasy, but without any movement, you’re getting nowhere. “See this?”

Your eyes struggle to focus on his shoulder, but even through tear-glazed eyes, you can see it. The bite mark, echoed with pinks and purples, luring you to have another taste with its pretty ridges and blooming hues.

You can feel your wet heat drip around his cock as you blearily stare at your work, cunt clenching eagerly around him as you hold yourself back from taking another bite. He hums at the feeling, hands clutching your skin to hold back from fucking back into you.

“You don’t seem very apologetic, cariño.”

“Oh – I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it…”

He raises a brow, “Don’t lie to me.” His fingers gently drift over the side of your torso, brushing goosebumps over your ribs before cupping your tit. He drinks in your sighs as he squeezes it.

“I-I didn’t mean to do it.”

“That’s right, but you did it anyway.” He laves his tongue over your nipple, making sure your eyes are locked with his as he nips and pulls at the bud. Your back arches with pleasure, shoving your tits closer to his face. Your hands bury themselves in his curls, holding his head close as he begins to move up from your chest to your neck.

“Bad girl.” He whispers against the tacky skin of your neck, nice and slow, letting the low rumble of his voice absorb into your skin.

He sinks his teeth into the lower side of your throat, biting down until he hears you cry out. You pull at the ends of his hair as spikes of pain flow down your body, slowly pulsing through every nerve before blurring into unshakable bliss.

“Jake–!”

You flutter around him with a moan, legs trembling as you’re filled with pure euphoria. He groans and lets your throat go, grip tightening against you when he feels you fall apart on him. You’re cumming without even moving an inch. White fills your vision as your eyes roll back, it’s too much, so much more than you can imagine, but you still need more.

You don’t even realize that you’re leaning back into Jake until you feel the soft give of his shoulder against your teeth. You’re doing it again, but this time he doesn’t mind. This time, his hips snap against yours, unintentionally thrusting up into your dripping cunt as you latch onto him.

You hold onto him as he ruts into you, feeling your high intensify as he fucks you through it. His thrusts are sloppy and needy, filling the room with filthy, wet sounds, and it only consumes him further. He grunts when he reaches his end, head tilted back as he’s flooded with saccharin pleasure.

You run your tongue over his shoulder as he recovers, soothing the sore blemishes soaked in sweet lust and sweat. Then you lean back to meet his lazy gaze, lustful energy continuing to thrum around the two of you.

Dark lashes frame his curious eyes as they lock onto the fresh bruise he bit into your skin. His stare drags downwards, taking in the love he has left on your skin. Your throat, waist, and thighs are painted in blotchy patches of color, beautifully curated by his hands and teeth. You can feel him pulse inside of you at the sight.

“When did you become a biter?”

“Just now…”

He grins, shaking his head.

“Don’t think Marc and I haven’t noticed the bruises after your nights with Steven. He’s a sensitive boy, you gotta be gentle.”

“He likes it!”

“I’m sure he does.”

You pout, “When did you become a biter?”

“Always have been…”

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight #steven grant x reader

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nochukoo97 · 9 months

Text

boyfriend drabbles (pt.18)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: the one where jungkook accidentally hurts you and he has to do the most to make you forgive him

word count: 600+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

“Fuck!” The man beside you smashes his controller into the sofa as he curses loudly, his brother cheers, the split screen showing ‘Victory’ on his brother’s side, while Jungkook has ‘Defeat’ flashing in his face.

Your boyfriend seemed to forget that he was still under his parents roof, his mum right in the next room from where he was.

“Jeon Jungkook! Do not use such foul words in my house,” His mum shouts from the kitchen, shaking her head at him as he smiles at her sheepishly.

As the controller bounced onto the sofa, it bounced back up and landed right on your face, where you were laying on Jungkook’s lap.

“OW!” You immediately clutch your face, the impact of the hard controller making something sting badly, you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, but it hurt, badly.

“Shit, Jagi I’m so sorry, let me see,” Your boyfriend worriedly searches your face, attempting to pull your hands away to look at it properly.

Instead you push his wandering hands away dramatically, shuffling out of his lap and inching closer to where his brother and his girlfriend, Yongchae, were sitting, cuddling up against her.

“I’m sorry baby, please let me see your face,” Jungkook attempts to pull you back to where you were originally laying, but you shove his hands away again, huffing as you curl up next to Yongchae.

She laughs, patting your head as Jungkook sulks into the couch.

“Jungkook-ah, this is what you get for hurting your girlfriend,” His mum laughs and makes her way into the living room, sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend as he gasps dramatically.

“Omma, how can you side with her, it was an accident,” Jungkook’s whining, as he furrows his brows, in disbelief that his own mother would not even take his side.

“Go and apologise on your knees to her,” She pinches his ear, as he sulks, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you.

His brother laughs at Jungkook’s state as your boyfriend glares back at him.

“I’m sorry baby, please look at me,” Your head is buried into the couch, but Jungkook manages to take your hands into his.

“Then make me a coffee and I’ll see if I forgive you,” You stick your tongue out playfully at him, his eyes widening at your sudden order.

You peck his lips quickly before tapping his shoulder, Jungkook chuckles at you, shaking his head as he goes into the kitchen.

“You really have him wrapped around your finger, I’ve never seen him so compliant before,” His brother laughs, as Jungkook shouts from the kitchen,

“I heard you!”

“Mm, missed you,” Jungkook wraps his arms around you tighter as he pecks your forehead.

“We’ve been together the whole entire day Kook,” You laugh into his chest, the smell of his cologne stronger than before.

“I know but all I did was get bullied by everyone,” He’s now sulking, thinking about the day’s events, as you laugh, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“My poor baby,” You coo at him, shuffling up to kiss your sulky boyfriend.

“Kook, why are you holding onto me so tight,” You wheeze as Jungkook tightens his hold again, the two of you squeezing into his childhood bed, a twin sized bed.

“I’m not gonna let you fall off and then I’ll get nagged at again by my mum,” He groans, you’re practically laying on top of him at this point, the twin bed not giving much space for you and your very muscular boyfriend to sleep.

“Is it not uncomfortable with me literally laying on top of you baby?” You laugh as Jungkook shifts slightly under you, making the bed creak.

“Nope,” He replies, popping the last syllable, “I can hold you better like this,” He smiles against your head, hands carding through the long hair.

“Baby I can feel your hand near my boob,” You warn your boyfriend, smiling as he huffs.

“It was worth the try,”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook

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ihavethedreamies · 1 month

Text

Pineapple | Jisung

Park Jisung - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.1k

Pairing: Jisung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Sixty-Nine, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: You and your boyfriend wonder if the rumor about eating pineapple is true…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, but uh…

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

PS. I am still low-key in denial that Jisung is as hot as he is now my son is Daddy now

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You hummed, looking over your recent purchase. It sat on the counter, mocking you.

"Do you have any idea how to cut it?" Jisung asked from where he stood next to you.

"No…" You sighed in defeat. It was always expensive to buy pineapple precut, probably because it was difficult to prepare, but you loved it. So, you decided to get the full fruit, but you had no idea how to go about cutting it. You had seen different videos in passing, but never focused enough to remember. You could look it up, but that would be admitting total defeat, and you weren't ready for that yet. Your boyfriend's big hands picked up the fruit and held it closer to his face so he could look at it better. He was even less likely to know what to do than you, but it was sweet he was trying.

"Well, start from the top?" He suggested, running his finger over the divot where the stem met the rest. Jisung set it back down and you picked up the knife, starting with a small paring knife so you didn't get hurt. You stabbed it in, the sweet scent hitting both of your noses, making your mouths water. Sawing through the top you are able to pry the top off and you set the stem to the side. Looking down at the yellow flesh inside, you wondered how to get the spiky outside off. You had seen some people pull the pieces apart where the ridges were, but that might take too long.

"Could we just carve the outside off?" Your boyfriend suggested and you nodded.

"Yeah, I think that's for the best." You had wanted to try a hack or something, worried that you would butcher the fruit in the wrong way. He came back with a much bigger knife, the cover still over the blade. Dramatically, you shucked the cover off and held the knife in the air. Carefully and slowly, you begin to saw at the outside to get the peel off. It took forever, and there were still little round pieces of the outside marring the otherwise perfect, yellow flesh. Taking the paring knife back into hand, you carved the little remnants out as Jisung got a bowl for you to put the final product in. You then sliced the cylinder-like body into fours, slicing the woody middle section out, then finishing the cuts. When it was all done, you fingers were tingling a bit from the enzyme the fruit contained. Going to wash your hands, Jisung plucked a piece out and slid it into his mouth.

"Is it a good one?" You asked, drying your hands and he hummed in delight. Picking another piece out, he held it between two fingers out to you. He turned a bit pink when you took it straight from him with your mouth. Not nearly as bad as when you first got together, your boyfriend still got a little shy or flustered from your acts of affection. You both went to the couch then to keep watching the drama you had been going through, the bowl of fruit between the two of you. After the first few pieces, you ended up getting a fork to use so your fingers wouldn't tingle too badly. It seemed your tolerance for the stinging juice of the fruit was higher than Jisung's because he stopped every so often, wiggling his tongue between his lips to try and calm the burn.

"How do you eat so much of that stuff?" He asked as you popped another yellow piece in your mouth.

"I like sour stuff, so it’s a similar feeling."

"Why does it do that anyway?"

"Some kind of enzyme or something. They put it in meat tenderizer." You explained while you chewed, the food muffling your voice a bit.

"Huh."

"Supposedly it also makes you…taste sweeter." You tried to word it a little secretly. Your boyfriend was too precious, not really understanding innuendos or dirty jokes without an explanation.

"Like, your saliva?"

"Well, I mean, kind of. It obviously does that. I meant…other stuff."

"Your sweat?"

"Cum, Jisung. It makes your cum taste sweet. Supposedly." You decided to be straight forward with it. You cast him a glance to see his reaction. His cheeks were a tinge pink, but he wasn't gaping like you expected, or horribly flushed.

"How would that work?" You rolled your eyes, his thought process was really something else.

"You know, I don't know. I think that's why it’s just like a rumor, it’s not proven." You scratched your cheek.

"We could test it out…" You suggested playfully about half an hour later, after all the pineapple had been eaten.

"Test what out?" He cast you a quick look, before going back to the show. He had rested back onto the couch, his foot up on the cushion, so his knee was at his chest. You were rested against his other side, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm around yours. His big hand was playing with the string of your hoodie, wrapping the braided yarn around his long fingers.

"If pineapple makes you sweeter…" You tried to keep your tone neutral. Jisung immediately paused the TV, pulling back from you to turn and look at you. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze, he seemed more shocked then embarrassed, but his face shifted. You were expecting red to spread over his cheeks, but he smirked instead.

"Might as well." The TV was fully shut off, and he pulled you a bit closer by the shoulders, leaning in and kissing you. You whined a bit at the intensity, normally he was much softer, but it seemed he wanted to eat your lips and tongue, not just taste them. Your next moan allowed his tongue all the way into your mouth, and they wrapped around each other. He did still taste of the fruit, and so did you, but that was more or less to be expected. Your tongues were still a little tingly from the pineapple, and them rubbing over each other made them tingle more. He hummed deeply when you pulled back, lips still slightly touching as you panted for breath.

"Pretty sweet…" His voice rumbled and you mewled. A cocky smirk spread over his pretty face, the confidence taking your breath away.

"Does it just make you sweet, or me too?"

"Uh, I think both?" You answered and he licked his lips, his tongue hitting yours as well with the motion. Jisung wrapped his big hand around yours, enveloping it, and hauling you off the couch, leading you toward your bedroom. You giggled at his eagerness, his long stride making you basically jog to keep up. Your boyfriend's lips fell to yours again as you both helped each other shed your clothes. You were completely bare when he got impatient and led you to the bed, his pants still on, button undone. You were about to question what he was doing when he laid down.

"Sit." He motioned you toward him and his sudden determination floored you. Swallowing, turning pink yourself, you did as he suggested. It was your turn to flush with embarrassment. When you slowly, wobbling, went to straddle his face, he clicked his tongue, whirling his finger.

"Other way." You did as he asked, facing toward the foot of the bed instead. You realized then what he was getting at. Before you full brought yourself down, you leaned over him, fiddling with his pants and boxers to pull his cock out. Everything about him was big, his hands, his feet, his cock. Right as you wrapped your hand around him, his hands flew to your hips and pulled you onto his face. You yelped as his tongue flicked against your clit, then ran up your folds to your core. Gathering your bearings, you leaned forward so you could wrap your lips around the head of his cock, tongue lapping at his precum. Even if the pineapple thing was true, it would probably take more than an hour to kick in. You didn't mind his taste anyway, so you eagerly bobbed your head, taking ask much of his cock in as you could. Your hands wrapped around the base to get the rest, the angle not right for you taking him into your throat more. You whined when his tongue thrusted in and out of your cunt, the vibration on his dick made his hips jump, the head battering the back of your throat. Trying not to gag around him, his thumb joined his tongue to flick your clit and your thighs twitched around his head. At your long, loud moan as you came yourself, the extra sensation buzzed through his cock, and he came as well. You eagerly swallowed his release, and it might have been a placebo effect, by he did taste sweeter. Cleaning off the rest of his cum from his still half-hard dick, he licked his lips, not able to reach all of your release that covered his face. Shakily, you got off of him and turned around so you could straddle him the other way. He was smirking up at you and you cringed at the sheen on his chin and cheeks that you caused.

"I'm sorry, Ji!" You reached to get a tissue from the nightstand to clean his face, but he took care of it, wiping it off with his arm. You two had switched places it seemed, you were now bashfully and shy, and he was smirking with confidence.

"Was I sweet?" His voice rumbled with a chuckle, and you nodded with a small whine.

"Me?"

"You're always sweet, love." You giggled and he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your brow as you sat over him. He adjusted his position, placing his feet on the bed so his knees were bent. You let him lead you so your cunt sat above his re-hardened cock, then he pressed your hips down so you could start to take him. You shivered, your cunt pulsing around his dick as he sank inside. Not only was he thick, but he was long and from the position, it seemed he got all the way into your stomach. You breathed harshly to catch your breath, you had never rode him before. He loved seeing you like that though, face and chest red, eyes closed in focus, mouth parted. With his hands, he helped you grind down onto him, the head of his dick rubbing over your sweet spot.

"Jisung~" Your moan was high pitched, nearly a cry. He would love to watch you fuck yourself on his cock, but you had very little strength left, so he took over. His hips jumped, burying him inside and you yelped with each thrust, only his hands holding you up. You fell forward, landing on his chest, short nails digging slightly into the skin. He huffed in amusement, helping you ride him a bit, but mostly just fucking up into you.

"J-Jisung!" Your cunt fluttered again, already close and he wasn't too surprised, you were quicker to cum the second time then even the first. With another hard thrust, he held you down, grinding into you, getting as deep as possible. The small but intense friction always brought you over the edge and he chuckled as you keened. Even with your vice squeezing around his cock, he held strong, not cumming himself. You were panting, boneless on top of him, so he was gentle in rolling you both over, but didn't pull out. You watched, dazed, as his gazed sharply down at you, easily moving your legs, pressing your knees up by your ears. When he had moved you, your mind finally reconnected and you were about to tell him to wait a sec, but he started to pound into you, the bed frame already rattling from the power. You nearly screamed, each subsequent noise higher and higher till you could barely get anything out, head lolling as your mind fogged over. Jisung's breathing picked up, deep groans and grunts escaping his pretty lips. His pace stuttered and your clit was starting to burn, the overstimulation cresting till the pain faded and you only felt the sharp pleasure again. You had a hard time controlling your breathing, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, tears pricking your eyes.

"Jisung!" You managed to gasp his name and he groaned.

"Hold on, love." He bit his bottom lip, eyes closed, brow furrowed, and with two more deep thrusts he painting your core white, filling you with heat. You nearly sobbed as your orgasm crested as well, your release spurting from your cunt, mixing with the absurd amount he had pumped into you. As he rested back on his heels, panting, you flopped like a ragdoll, eyes glazed over. Jisung brought his thumb to your swollen clit, flicking it, making you twitch hard. He licked the slick from the digit, smiling softly, "so sweet."

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

Masterlist

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