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hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch.

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is.

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully.

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses.

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth.

He is not, in fact, on his way home.

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy.

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny.

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?”

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display.

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.”

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself.

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen.

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking.

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do?

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice.

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.”

Naked.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.”

And with that, he hangs up.

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you.

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend.

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form.

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer.

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience?

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad.

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you.

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done?

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you.

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer.

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you.

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had.

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to.

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all.

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream—

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment?

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call?

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person.

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult.

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there.

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.”

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred.

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body.

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man.

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober.

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross.

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially.

Was it out of the question or would he consider it?

Your leg jitters harder.

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin.

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.”

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion.

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek.

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?”

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one?

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks.

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness.

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you.

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.”

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?”

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did.

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently.

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side.

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.”

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?”

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you.

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.”

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted.

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue.

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?”

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?”

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?”

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?”

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.”

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?”

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath.

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while.

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.”

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours.

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples.

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged.

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?”

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times.

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think.

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants.

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half.

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath.

Such a stark, sudden change.

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that.

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.”

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving.

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin.

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under.

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration.

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home.

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy.

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?”

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start.

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down.

You fight against it.

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness.

And you decide to repeat history.

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants.

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?”

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether.

And then, you collect your essence again.

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.”

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally.

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue.

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.”

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you.

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince.

And then—then he manhandles you.

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does.

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden.

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter.

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?”

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion.

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.”

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit.

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off.

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.”

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused.

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.”

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation.

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way.

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum.

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.”

Yoongi has had enough.

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’.

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.”

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?”

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix.

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?”

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him.

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.”

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you.

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.”

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.”

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something.

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you.

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.”

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come.

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them.

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.”

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes.

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.”

With that, he hangs up.

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again.

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself.

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you.

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing.

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?”

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.”

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief.

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you.

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind.

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles.

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.”

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours.

But you don’t let him take charge.

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.”

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you.

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed.

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours.

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.”

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him.

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock.

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit.

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life.

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too.

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring.

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.”

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation.

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?”

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness.

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him.

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.”

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.”

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two

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kissforyouu · 29 days

Text

forgive me now?

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff , slight angst

warnings : arguing , mentions of sexual activities

a/n : FINALLY an update. 😓😓 unedited btw

this is a continuation from my previous text au btw!

you stand awkwardly in your friend's yard, clutching onto your little pink suitcase. your boyfriend said he would pick you up and that there was no need for you to call a cab home. usually, this would've been fine. much much much better than the cab even. but not now. the small argument you had with jungkook last night would definitely make things a little awkward between you guys. it was always like that. silent treatment until one of you gets impatient. that's usually jungkook. and it will be jungkook this time as well.

you kick some rocks on the ground while mina tells you and jihyo about some video games she's been playing. you mindlessly nod, not paying any attention to what she's really saying. you feel bad, but you're just not in the mood right now.

all you could think about was the argument. you were aware from the beginning about how overprotective jungkook actually was. you didn't mind it. not one bit. in addition to that, you always felt an underlying effect from whatever he did. it was arousing to say the least. but anyway. he called you a bitch. much worse, noh? how could he.

your eyes dart to the direction of the horn of the car you're so familiar with, emitting a soft sigh along the way. jungkook pulls up in his mercedes benz sl 63 amg, rolling down those expensive ass windows to look at you. he gets out of the car and tries to make an effort to carry your luggage but you don't let him, giving him the cold shoulder. jungkook grits his teeth, eyes scanning your figure up and down as you set your luggage in the back of his car then hug your girls goodbye.

once you were done with your goodbyes and back in front of his car, he tries to open the door for you but you ignore him once again, proceeding to open the backseat's door. you never did that. you were always his passenger princess. always.

the thought that he may have actually fucked up clouds your boyfriend's mind. jungkook closes the door with a thud, clearly frustrated. your friends weren't a helping hand either. instead, they were giving him mean glares. they never liked jungkook much. i mean, to a certain extent they did. but it wasn't enough.

the tall man sighs, his upper body fully turned to face you in the backseat. you weren't paying him any attention and instead, face buried in your phone when it should be in between his pecs, giving him the fattest hug ever while saying you missed him. but nah. eh, he really did fuck up.

jungkook glances at your friends a last time, the scowl on their faces never leaving. he scoffs, starting the engine of the car and beginning to drive out of your friends' sight.

jungkook looks at your reflection through the mirror, while doing that thing again. poking his cheek with his tongue. hot. you try your best not to look.

"you're so dramatic. talk to me."

suddenly, you break out of your stoic expression, jaw opening a little as you stared at your boyfriend in disbelief.

"me? jungkook, look at yourself! you said you would track down my phone to find my location if i didn't answer!"

"and you know damn well i would."

"i— well, that isn't the point here! the point is—"

"honey, we're past that, don't you think? just forget it." he grunts, completely discarding my opinion.

"no. calling me a bitch was too far. you don't get to disrespect me like that. who do you think you are?"

jungkook pauses for a few seconds, taking his time to think of what to reply with. he got silenced, for sure. then he sighs again, opening his mouth to speak again. no. ugh, fuck. you hate when he's like this. why is he acting like he's...tolerating you?

"get on the front." jungkook clicks his tongue, patting the empty passenger seat.

you so clearly refuse, stomping your heal on the carpet of the car as a sign of rejection. jungkook doesn't have any of that, immediately parking the car on the edge of the road. he gets out of his car and walks to the other side of the car, now in front of you. jungkook opens your door and pats his thigh—another signal for you to get on the front. you refuse again though, looking somewhere else.

"brat." he mumbles under his breathe. your boyfriend grabs your arm and pulls your body upwards. you wince a little, finding his touch a little too harsh.

"wait, shit, sorry." his thumb lightly brushes over the spot where he grabbed you gently, then sweetly giving it a few kisses after.

"get on the front seat, baby." his tone was sweet this time, like honey. he was speaking to you as if you were a flower who could get destroyed even from the slightest breeze.

and you just couldn't refuse. you listen to him this time instead of being whatever he calls you, a "brat". you sit on the passenger seat, crossing your legs over one another. but you still weren't looking at him. attitude much, huh?

jungkook groans at your behaviour. he loved it though. found it rather hot although sometimes it was a little too hard to deal with.

he suddenly grabs your jaw, his touch gentle but strong, tightly gripping your face but enough to not hurt you. he has your face turned to his side, forcing you to look at him.

"look at me at least."

you stay silent. your eyes drop down to his lap, legs spread and meaty thighs flexing.

"y/n."

one small look at his face, you break down to a whine. you pucker your lips into a pout, squeezing your eyes shut in irritation.

"i'm really sorry, my love. i admit that it was very wrong and inappropriate of me. i won't say that again, hm? i'll do whatever you want. just please talk to me."

"apologising isn't going to work."

"fine. i'll take you anywhere, buy whatever you want. hell, i'd buy you the entire world, you know that?"

your lips tremble and you grunt, "stop thinking that buying me everything would fix every single problem! it won't! why are you so good at finding solutions for every single problem that includes everything BUT yourself?! it's so frustrating, jungkook! yesterday, you could've literally just called me!—"

"you didn't answer! i called you so many fucking times, noh? did you answer once? nah."

"THAT doesn't matter! it was just...like, one day, jungkook!"

"yeah, and? who knows what would've happened? i was thinking of every single possibility. did you get killed or something? had me fucking stressing for nothing." jungkook rolls his eyes, rubbing his temple.

"it was for just one day! calm down!"

"no! didn't even tell me where the fuck you were going. had to drive upto your fucking house to find out."

you pause for a second, taking a deep breath, gritting your teeth, "jungkook. stop swearing at me."

jungkook scoffs, accepting it either way with a nod.

"let's stop arguing. hate fighting with you, y'know? let's go home, y/n. this is stupid."

"you're stupid!" you fight back.

"stop acting like a kid, damn. i said sorry. we're going home."

jungkook doesn't let you continue as he turns around and sits comfortably on his seat again, eyes facing the front.

"your house or my house?"

"your house." your voice came out in a small squeek.

a few minutes pass by, jungkook managed to sneak his hand up your thigh to grope the flesh. you let him. it was one of his silly habits. each time you're in the car with him, jungkook would either hold your hand or grope your thighs. and when you questioned it, he'd say "for emotional support." what emotional support? you always found it funny. but cute though. sometimes, he'd get sneaky and slowly slide his hand downwards, little by little, and end up cupping your pussy. that itself was enough to make you go crazy. he'd start by slowly rubbing your clit through your panties, then sneakily make his way inside :) .

by now, you both had reached his house. jungkook parked his car in his garage and entered his room, who was laying on his comfy ass bed that was big enough for 5 people.

he lays down with you, big arms engulfing your smaller body. you let him, you're past the argument now. jungkook snuggles into your body, cheek smushed against your breast. his body temperature was hot, warming you up instantly.

"we good now?"

"mhm."

"talk more, baby. i want to hear you. what did you do yesterday? ate well?"

your face melts down at your boyfriend's words. cute man. cuuuuteeee. myy man. how could you ever hate him? :< . you spent the rest of the cuddling and jungkook trying to make it upto you. he gave you foot massages, back massages, made you food, watched your favourite show with you (which you've made him rewatch about 10 times already), ate you out good, ran you a bath, another foot massage, online shopped with you which resulted in him buying you goodies worth 500$ and more, head massage, fucked you good, rubbed your body to sleep and so on 😊.

maybe arguing isn't THAT bad after all.

taglist :

@fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt @kooreo @rrosiitas @goldenjeonkoo

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook smut #smut #sanrio girl #sanrio #cute

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naeviskz · 3 months

Text

WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

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ipatrichor · 2 years

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practicing shading w my boy william driftwood

#dnd character #dnd oc #dnd art #water genasi #warlock #pat.art #william driftwood #it's crystal growing out of his forehead btw not coral #i wanted to try making it pink but i didn't realize it could look coral-esque until afterwards dkbfjd #anyway he didn't used to have it when he was a scout exploring the deep ocean #but then they ran into a powerful otherworldly creature who severely injured one of his teammates #my lad made a pact w it to get them all out alive and it implanted the crystal in his forehead as a spellcasting focus & mark of their deal #afterwards he got 'reassigned' to explore the world above and see if it's safe for the sea folk #but really it was to get him away so that whatever the deal/fallout ends up being won't affect anyone else #which is cold yeah but practical :' he wasn't told but if he had been he wouldve agreed bc he loves his home & people #and doesn't want to put them in danger #anyway hes very silly but also very sad when u look closer

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

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congratulations on 2k btw you deserve it all!!! 🫶 the trope i’ve been haven’t seen much is like athlete taehyung, so i was wondering like famous basketball player taehyung and him and oc have like this situationship/ friends with benefit type thing going on for a while now🫣

thank you!💘

thank you so much love!! 🥺🫶🏻 and o.m.g yesss!!

fangirl

Fucking Taehyung after a basketball practice is your favourite activity.

pairing: professional basketball player!taehyung x fem!reader

genre: friends with benefits au, smut

warnings: reader thinks sports are stupid ☹️👎🏻 (same girly), unprotected oral sex, public sex, cunnilingus, tae's eating it like it's his last meal, a little over 1k.

a.n.: omg i just remembered this one taehyung edit as a basketball player... iykyk!!! 🤭

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game if you want to participate and send in a request of yours! 🤍

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

You're not a big fan of sports in general. Sports come with sweat and sweating is not for you; you hate the damp feeling on your skin. Plus, the odour is horrible, gosh, and especially when the smell comes from men.

Sports are stupid, you think. Why run after a sphere and get emotional about it when the sphere in question didn't go into the opposite team's goal?

But you're just a girl, what do you know about sports anyway... Well, maybe you know one thing. The athletes are pretty good looking.

You have a preference for basketball players, honestly. Tall, big hands, big dick...

Yeah, maybe you like at least one sport. Basketball. Their players are good, so skilled with their hands and mouth, they know what to do. You lied; you're a big fan of them. Or just one in particular.

The one who wrecks your ass every time you ask politely.

As you're sitting on one of the benches in the changing room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, you finally hear the door opening and then closing, sneakers stepping on the floor.

You stand up, pleased to see the person you were waiting for all this time; Kim Taehyung. Your favourite basketball player and the best hook-up you've ever had in your life. Literally.

He smiles when his eyes settle on you, your mini-skirt almost the size of a belt and a tube pink top covering your tits. "Didn't expect to see you here," he smirks, playful eyes looking you up and down, enjoying your outfit that leads to little imagination.

Taehyung's the best in his team, the most famous and attractive — you can't forget that. That's why he often practices alone, always perfecting his performance whenever he can because he's just so hardworking like that.

"Cut the act, I know you were hoping I was here waiting for you," you flirt and come closer to him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. "You took more time purposefully, didn't you?"

He chuckles, wetting his plump lips after. The corner of his mouth tugs upward as he takes a hold of your jaw. "You know I like you a little desperate," he replies in a low voice, raspy and deep.

He grabs your arms and forces you to back away until you hit the lockers behind you. "I'm more than just a little desperate," you admit, biting down on your lip as Taehyung's dark gaze stares at you, starting to get hungry.

"Yeah? Thinking about me got you all needy, doll?" He asks and you shamelessly nod. "I gotta do something about it then," he states, and you can't agree more. "Take your panties off, but keep the skirt on."

You execute yourself, excitement bubbling in your belly. You slide your underwear off, slick sticking to it, and toss them aside on the bench beside your purse.

Taehyung turns you around in one swift movement and you lay your hands flat on the lockers, gasping out when he kneels on the ground, having your pussy right in front of his face.

"Oh, Tae, not here... You can't," you sigh, reluctantly refusing him, but he doesn't think the same. Everywhere is a good place to eat your pussy, in his opinion.

He gropes your asscheeks, palming the meaty flesh in his large hands. Your core is heating up fast, cunt wet just by the sight of Taehyung's head so close to your femininity — an image to always remember.

He gives a smack to one of your cheeks, making it bounce after. "I think I can do whatever I want, doll," he answers back, passing a rough digit over your wet pussy lips. "I know you'll let me do anything I want," he concludes and he traces your clit, swiping smoothly on it with his finger covered in your arousal.

He runs his finger between your lips, teasing and playing with you. A good distraction from basketball, a good way to relax and think about things less stressful and more enjoyable like you.

He pulls your two globes of flesh apart and immediately dives in, making you arch your back and push your pussy into Taehyung's face. A satisfied groan doesn't miss to leave his throat, sending vibrations through your body.

His tongue explores your sex, slurping your juices, fulfilling his thirst by literally drinking your natural essence. The tip of his pink muscle circles your entrance, slipping in and out at a fast pace, already making you delirious.

Taehyung does not do things by half, he goes in determined, having one goal in mind and reaching it like nothing else matters. Your pleasure is the only thing important here and he won't stop until you're completely destroyed. All of this just with his mouth.

He holds your asscheeks apart, tongue flat on your pussy, literally breathing you in. He eats you out so well your eyes roll back into your skull, moaning out obscenely. This sure boosts Taehyung's ego, having you putty in his hands in seconds, saying his name over and over again as if it's a prayer.

You reach behind you and tangle your fingers in his bleached hair, pulling on it to at least hold onto something. "Fuck, Tae!" You curse, feeling tears forming in your eyes and the knot at the pit of your stomach tightening. If he keeps playing with your clit like that, you won't last long.

He hums in response, but keeps going. He has a better idea, though, so with his tongue he focuses on your pussy, sinking it in skillfully and drinking more of your wetness. He then sneaks an arm under you and reaches your clit, which makes you flinch slightly at the sudden change of contact.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" You yelp hurriedly, rolling your hips on Taehyung's face.

He does quick circular motions on your clit until your orgasm hits you hard. You cry out his name and grind on his tongue to drive off your high, your grip on his blond hair tightening. He grunts again, loving how you rub your pussy on him, not caring if you make a mess.

When you straighten your back, letting go of his head, he stands up, licking his lips clean. You turn around slowly on wobbly legs, catching your breath.

Taehyung looks delighted, like every time he gets you off on his tongue. "Now you gotta help me," he smiles smugly, referring to the very evident bulge in his basketball shorts.

"Sure," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #taehyung drabble #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader

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ta-ni-ya · 1 month

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When I came back from my break I added in my announcement that I had 4 new ocs to introduce and here is one of them!

MY KNY OC- Hina Aoki

Age- 13-14

Breathing style- melody (it’s kinda complicated, will explain!)

@kiyokatokito really helped me a lot with her breathing style so big credits to her! :3

She is gonna be mitsuri’s tsugoku btw

Andddd this is supposed to be an au because she’s shipped with a dead character 😃

I also didn’t add anything about her ship here!

And I’ll be colouring this soon too :3

Her backstory- she is an only child living with her parents, she never had much friends and everyone would eventually either move away or got busy with their things. All the friends she made weren’t really close and sometimes wouldn’t even acknowledge her but hina was too innocent to know their real motives.

Once she decided to join the demon slayer corps, all her friends hated her and thought she had gone insane, saying things like ‘demons don’t exist’. You can say they were already looking for a chance to leave hina so it didn’t bother them what she did after that.

Hina was very sad and her once known bright personality disappeared. She didn’t understand but she definitely got trust issues and found it hard to make friends with her colleagues. She only opens up to people like her mentor Mitsuri!

Some info about her breathing style- as the name melody itself is very self explanatory, there’s this word ‘mellifluous’ which means a sound that is sweet or smooth, pleasing to the ear. Me and kiyo got the whole idea about her breathing style from that word!

Her sword is shaped all wavy because she uses it for a very important purpose while fighting! Her body is a little small for her age (kinda like shinobu?) by it’s just her height and she’s still growing ofc. But being light weighted she is fast and she used it to her advantage, she easily moves from once spot to another creating melodic sound waves from her katana.

Mitsuri’s katana is itself very weirdly shaped so she learns some things about it and makes her katana’s movements accordingly. Moving around quickly allows her to distract and confuse the demon until its guard is down.

Since her breathing style is created from love/flame breathing, her cuts don’t hurt at the beginning but as soon the demon stops hearing her melody, that cut burns like hell and they realise it’s the end (kinda like a paper cut? It’s small but hurts a lot)

Her moments are like a feather dancing in the air. She basically created this technique because she kinda related it to her old friends? They would sugarcoat her and then suddenly went bitter towards her! Just like how she makes them distract with her melody and slashes them suddenly.

Headcanons I got so far for her!

She loves flowers, cherries and honey!

She loves spending time with mitsuri the most because she never treated her wrong!

Her first friend that genuinely treated her well was one and only kiyoka ;3 (@kiyokatokito’s oc)

Her fav colours are red and light pink

Her hair colour is supposed to be strawberry blonde just in case you get confused 🤷🏻‍♀️

She is flexible but not as flexible as mitsuri :3

She’s 4’5 😗

#niya talks #demon slayer oc #demon slayer #kny oc #art #drawing #artists on tumblr #kny #kny oc art

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codecicle · 8 months

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WHATS POPPING‼️ I'm Ashton B Codecicle Gayboy Swagaythor and I use he/him they/them and it/its with no preference in between all of them. Dudebro Manguy who will be weird and freakish on your dashboard faggot-style :D👍

matching pfps with my boyfriend @felixisfruity and my friend @originallymax ^_^

‼️ cc!wilbur and cc!dream stans fuck off. if i talk about them im always talking about their characters (my ocs) ‼️

HELLO!! gaze apon ye affront to god and despair. if me or any of my posts have made you deeply sigh with shame and regret then i may be entitled to financial compensation! cashapp me 20 bucks rn

also! am a minor ^_^ so i wont be drawing the labia ghoul as i am 15 years of age smiley face (<- inside joke)

I LOVE TALKING TO MUTUALS AND FRIENDS AND BUDDIES AND HOMIES. COME TALK TO ME I HAVE A DISCORD SERVER YOU SHOULD DM ME FOR THE LINK OOOOOOOO YOU WANNA JOIN CLUB CREPUSCULE SO BADDDDDDDDDDD OOOOOOOO

number ONE codeflippa and qcharlie enthusiast. if anyone tells u otherwise run very very fast in the other direction and dont look back its me boy im the ps5 speaking to you inside ur brain listen to me boy

mcyt is my special intrest im never leaving this place until the day i die. qsmp dsmp osmp scu smplive cogchamp sdmp epicsmp.. my servers.... <3 i also watch chuckle sandwich and jrwi + most mcyt adjacent people

I do not make sideblogs and never plan on it! outside of!! url hoarding and my singular jrwi gimmick blog/son @has-chip-beaten-the-allegaytions I'm a Chip "Bastard" James JRWI enthusiast btw ^_^)

albatrio are transexuals and faggots and in queer platonic t3t love i dont care about jrwitwt they can explode. sad! 💥💥💥💥

also also im a grimeduo guy. a big one. being both a slimer and an inniter at the same time is like a full time job of being transgender but i somehow manage. who up beastin

if you ever want to listen to my scu propaganda and start watching it i ramble about it a little bit in this ask

i am learning french btw!! charlie and baghera mental illness strikes again (chose the class before the qsmp started and has now managed to make practicing a language into something about my special interests to make me more intrested in it) ((YOU WANNA SEND ME ASKS IN FRENCH. YOU WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO ME IN FRENCH. YOU NEED TO GIVE ME FRENCH PRACTICE. ITS MEEEE BOY IM THE FUCKING PS5 FREE WILL IS AN ILLUSION))

collection of people being normal about me.

(my chip hater blinkies and normal about father-child dynamics shirt were both made by felix!! <3 this egg is transgender image was made by @/foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland </3 and the juanaflippa divider can be used with credit to the artist!! it was made by @/etoilesbienne)

tag list ahead! if you ever need me to tag something just send me an ask or dm and let me know i will ALWAYS say yes i want people to be safe. that being said i do talk about triggering topics from time to time and my intrests are often gore/body horror filled like genloss or bitb so keep that in mind!! i will still tag them properly but i am a walking trigger warning PLEASE stay safe :DD

original posts -> i make yet anothet post just for me 👍

important things ive gottta find multiple times -> saving for later

i am arguably a pink core (the typa shit ballincat43 is on) person and you can pry that from my cold dead hands so here is the tag for it LMAO -> me core

qsmp -> qsmp

qsmp fanart -> qsmp art

absurdly powerful dnd podcast posting -> jrwi (i also tag the individual characters)

liveblogging newer jrwi episodes or jrwiepisodes with spoilers -> jrwilb

gayass military game posting -> cod

generation loss -> genloss

jerma -> jerma is a fucking cryptid

liveblogging -> liveblogging

ask tag -> we have mail :]

best asks I've ever received -> askbox hall of fame

slimecicle cinematic universe -> scu

autism² (risk of rain) -> ror2

self rb -> reblogging my own post

the mcu / mutual cinematic universe -> little rp thing I do with my friends ^_^

tag for elliot (my boyfriend) -> my love felix <3 <3

pokemon (autism³) -> poketag

#i make yet anothet post just for me 👍#flashing images #image id in alt text #^_^

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atomic--peach · 10 months

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Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt.13

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader × Cersei Lannister. TW: violence)

(BTW: I have officially made an AO3 account that I will be transferring this story to as an OC fic. I will be continuing the fic here as an x Reader fic as well. I will include the link on Pt.14)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Hand's Tourney was set to be the event of the year.

Members of all the high and low noble families had gathered in the Keep, and hopeful knights old and young entered their names into the lists.

You were so glad Sandor wasn't one of them.

You knew how strong he was, and how skilled with his sword. But you didn't think you could stomach watching on the side lines as some hedge knight tried to take chunks from the notorious Hound.

Cersei had insisted on picking out your dress for the tourney, as it would be the first time you would be presented to all of the noble families. The gown itself was rose pink satin and the bodice and sleeves clung tightly to you. Over this, a maid laced a cloth of gold over bodice intricately decorated with silk rosettes. Your slippers were gold as well, also decorated with rosettes.

Cersei also urged you to let her maids braid your hair as was popular with the other noble ladies, which you agreed to so long as your head didn't end up looking like a beehive.

"Unfortunately, it would be poor form for us to sit together." Cersei bemoaned, "But consider this your first challenge to face alone."

"Yes, your grace" You balled up bits of your skirt into your palms, which were sweating from nerves.

Sandor was to stand guard of the royal family. Cersei was to sit next to the king. Which left you alone for the first time in quite a while, and in unfamiliar waters.

"Now, do you remember what I told you?" Cersei came up from behind you in the mirror, letting her fingers play with the delicate braids the maid had finished pinning into place.

"Avoid the small counsel members, except maybe Renly who's harmless enough. Don't start conversations but don't ignore someone trying to talk to me either. And if a knight asks for my favor, it's impolite to refuse....I don't think Sandor would like that one."

"Oh," Cersei scoffed, "Favors are one of the few exceptions to the rule. As long as it's clear that you're loyal to your husband, it's just innocent fun."

"If you say so" You bit your lip. Your favor was a simple wreath of paper flowers meant to go over a knight's lance for good luck in battle. You rather doubted it would be put to any use.

The start of the tourney itself was delayed for various reasons, leaving you and the rest of the onlookers to sit in the summer sun waiting impatiently.

You found an isolated spot in the stands across from the royal pavilion. Every once in a while, you would catch the eye of your husband or your lover and smile at them, wanting to join them but knowing it was impossible.

"Sitting alone, my lady?"

You looked up before looking away with a scoff, "Good day, Lord Varys. Might I help you with something?"

"Just taking in the joust." Varys did not ask to join you before sitting, fanning himself with a small paper fan.

"You hate blood sports." you reminded him knowingly.

"I do." Varys nodded, "But I just wanted to check in. You haven't told him yet."

"He doesn't need to know, it makes no difference."

"It makes all the difference." Varys corrected you before growing thoughtfully silent. "Or could it be you haven't accepted the truth yourself?"

At this you stood, gathering your skirts. "I am not entertaining this conversation. Good day."

But Varys wasn't letting you off the hook that easily.

"What do you think happens to barren wives of noble men?" The spider hissed "Do you think they're just reluctantly tolerated? At best, the Hound could petition the king to annul your marriage. At worst-" he tossed you a scathing look. "Let's just say there's more than one way to get rid of a troublesome wife."

"Shut your horrid mouth," you snapped at him, drawing the attention of others now, "My husband would never do that to me!"

"Oh you pretty little fool, you've managed to actually fall for him." Varys sighed, "then you're not half as clever as I believed you to be."

"Is the Spider disturbing you, Lady Clegane?"

You glanced up and almost sighed with relief at the sight of white armour and golden hair.

"Yes, actually" you glared at Varys.

Jaime scowled at the Eunuch, who backed down with a simper. "Perhaps the Lady has heard enough of your poison, Lord Varys"

"Very well" was all the Master of Whispers said, leaving you to the tender care of your savior.

"Ignore him" Jaime urged you after you thanked him. "You look very beautiful today, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Thank you, Ser Jaime. In truth your sister arranged most of this."

"She's always loved arranging things, my sister"

"I should warn you" you glanced across the pitch to your husband, "Sandor doesn't like the idea of you talking to me."

"No?" Jaime quirked a brow and gave an amused chuckle, "I suppose I'm taking my life in my own hands then"

"Speaking of" you motioned to the jousting ring, "you aren't participating?"

"No, not this time." He looked disappointed, "just an onlooker. Your brother by law is jousting this first round though. Is he not?"

"If they ever start, he should be." you chuckled as the King grew drunker and more and more impatient.

Finally the jousters made their entrances. First was Ser Hugh of the Vale, a young handsome man with flaxen hair and shiny new armour. He took his rounds on a tawny gelding to the cheers of the crowd.

The younger ladies of the court were clearly taken with this newcomer and this overwhelming support seemed to make him cocky.

Gregor, even ahorse, absolutely dwarfed the man. He, like his brother, also rode a black stallion, but Gregor's was dappled with grey and didn't seem to have the same discipline Stranger had.

The cheers for the Mountain were less boisterous, more of a polite round of applause.

You expected him to report right to his end of the run, but instead your skin broke out in goose bumps as he directed his horse towards you.

"My Lady." He addressed you with surprising respect, "I request your favor for House Clegane."

It would be rude to refuse, you knew that. And if he was requesting in the name of your shared house, it would be disrespectful to turn him away.

Pale but forcing your hands not to shake, you slipped the wreath of yellow paper flowers over his lance.

"Good luck to you, Brother" you nodded and he nodded back before returning to the joust.

Maybe he did approve of you, you thought as you returned to your seat by Jaime.

The horses were set and the knights ready and with a blast of a trumpet, they were off. The horses went at each other at a full gallop and lances lowered as the knights drew closer to each other.

You had expected the shattering of shields, and the sounds of wood against plate.

You hadn't expected the visceral, wet crunch of bone and blood as Gregor's lance point went not through the chest, but through Ser Hugh's throat. His armour, not properly secured, had given Gregor the perfect opening to end the bout in one round.

The crowd went up with a cry of dismay that simmer down into horrified silence as Ser Hugh fought desperately for his last breaths.

"Gods" Jaime breathed before glancing at your pale face. "Next time I go into battle, remind me to ask for your favor first."

You didn't respond, not finding the jest amusing in the slightest.

Gregor dismounted and, with chilling calm, returned to your side of the pitch. His armor clanking with each step and movement until he reached over the barrier and dropped something in your lap.

Yellow paper flowers, now notably crumpled, and dappled by Ser Hugh's blood.

You couldnt find the words to congratulate him, still shell shocked from the sight of lance peircing throat.

Gregor didn't wait for your acknowledgement, simply walking away.

"Look on the bright side." Jaime tried to rouse you, "I think he likes you."

When you didnt laugh, Jaime noticed people had started to leave the stands. The pitch needed to be reset and it would be hours until the next bout.

"Come" he offered his arm which you took shakily. "Let's get you back where you belong."

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

"Drink" Cersei poured you a generous glass of red. Your hands still shook but your mind had come back from the shock.

Jaime had escorted you to Cersei's side, and the queen had a similar attitude to her brother about the whole situation.

"I think we can call that a success at least" she assured you, slipping her arm through yours. "You did everything right, he asked, you gave, it was a solid show of familiar acceptance. Now that Gregor has accepted you as a Clegane, the court will follow."

"I feel like I killed that man" you said without thinking.

Cersei pulled a confused face and shook her head. "Nonsense, people die in tourneys all the time sweetling."

"I feel sick" you breathed, closing your eyes as if to stop the world from spinning.

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

Sandor was wrought with fury, and for a moment wished he had joined the lists just so he could throttle his frustrations out.

"Look who it is" the irritating princeling under his care pointed over the crowd. Lady Sansa, hooked to her prince's arm, craned her neck and smiled a little.

"Congratulations on your brother's win today, My Lady" Sansa said politely, though she had been equally dismayed by the bloodshed.

"Your Highness, My Lady" you acknowledged the younger pair in turn before turning to your husband. "I'm returning to the keep. I'm not feeling too well"

Sandor gave a short nod, not asking for further.

"You should not walk alone if you are not well" Sansa insisted, clinging to Joffery and trying to subtly motion to Sandor who had been looming behind them for hours.

"I appreciate the concern but I'm sure I'll be fine" you insisted but the Prince shook his head, picking up on Sansa's implication.

"Nonsense. Dog, see to your lady. Lady Sansa and I will be fine without you."

Sandor didn't need convincing before whisking you back to the keep, Sansa watching with wide blue eyes.

"They are very romantic, aren't they?" She breathed, "I wanted to watch their wedding when we were at Winterfell, but mother wouldn't let me."

"It was boring" Joffrey scoffed. "Who cares about two servants getting married?"

"I thought she was a hedge knight's daughter you met on the road?"

Joffrey quickly remembered himself and the lie his mother had impressed upon him and gave a cruel smirk, "That's right, I must have misremembered."

Sansa ignored the irony in his voice, swept up in the idea of a poor knight's daughter and a grumpy bear of a man meeting by chance on the King's Road and being so taken with each other they married as soon as they could in a grand castle.

It was just like the songs and tales she loved so much.

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

"That was horrible."

"That's tourneys for you" Sandor growled, "what did you expect?"

"Not that" you struggled to keep up with him.

He didn't respond, and you found the silence to be brutally intentional.

"Sandor" you stopped, watching and he continued to storm forth. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" He stopped but didn't turn to look at you.

"Are you mad that I gave Gregor my favor before the joust?"

His shoulder slackened a little as he rolled back to face you, looking tired. "No" he confessed, "That's not why I'm mad."

"But you are mad" you pressed. "With me?"

He shrugged.

"Please be honest" you begged him, "I'm still very new at all this. If I did something wrong, I need to know."

Sandor took a breath, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you. Not if you were just trying to help.

"Fucking Lannister" he growled, "he had you practically in his lap the whole bout. And I know he did it just to piss me off."

Your face softened with understanding. "Oh, my love. Is that it?" You didn't want to laugh at him, it would only piss him off worse. So instead you closed the gap between the two of you.

"The queen is one thing" he breathed, "I won't lie and say I love the idea. But she makes you happy, and she's making life here easier for you....but that fucking brother of hers" his voice deepened to a growl. "I know, about you and him."

You gave a sharp breath. "It was just the once."

"Once is enough."

You thought a moment. "If it makes things easier, I will do my best to avoid Jaime Lannister."

"You can try" Sandor grumbled, "but one word to Her Grace and he'll try to turn her against you."

"I doubt that." You assured him. "She knows how much I love you. I like to think she'd be understanding "

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

The second half of the joust didn't come until late the next morning.

This time you found your seat on the same side as the royal family, keeping yourself further away from the front so Gregor wouldn't ask for your favor a second time.

This time the Mountain was riding against Ser Loras Tyrell, a sterling youth with light chestnut hair that hung in ringlets. His armour was a shimmering display of steel roses pressed into the plate. His shield bore the sigil of his house proudly.

His mount was a milk white mare, and as she passed Gregor's stallion the black horse began to prance in place anxiously.

Despite Gregor's best efforts, the stallion would not settle as they mounted for the joust. It became rowdy and impatient, and when the trumpet blared the stallion dashed frantically in the direction of the mare.

Loras's lance smashed against Gregor's chest, sending the giant into the dirt and knocking off his helmet.

The crowd erupted with cheers as Loras basked in their adulation. Gregor, ever a sour loser, called for his sword.

You waited for the Melee round to start, internally bracing for another death, but instead of taking the broad sword to the Knight of the Flowers, Gregor took the head off the stallion with a single blow.

You covered your mouth in shock as the stallion stiffened and collapsed, flooding the pitch with a small river of blood. Gregor turned his attention onto Loras.

Before the teenager got a chance to call for his own weapon, Gregor shattered the Tyrell sigil into a million splinters and reared back to smash his opponent as well.

The crowd cried for mercy, and from the royal pavilion a large black mass shot between Gregor and Loras. It took you a moment to realize that black mass was your husband, who had drawn his own sword and was fighting off his brother as well as he could.

Size and strength were on Gregor's side, but Sandor managed to dodge and parry ill aimed blows that were fueled by rage.

You pushed yourself through the crowd to the wooden gate that separated the crowd from the jousters. You wanted to scream, but knew if you did you'd be risking his life.

He needed focus, as even now the battle wasn't looking good for him.

"Stop this madness in the name of your King" Robert bellowed, enraged by this sudden outbreak of violence. Sandor was the first to stop, almost immediately as the order was given he ducked quick enough to avoid what would have been a vicious blow to the head.

Gregor stopped only when he realized all attention was on him, armed guards waiting for him to make a wrong move so they could skewer him from all angles.

Instead he tossed his sword like a toddler tosses a toy and stormed off, Robert calling for the guards to leave him be.

Loras had managed to recover himself enough to make a show of honoring Sandor for saving his life, prompting scores of cheers that left him looking rather embarrassed.

When the crowd departed you all but threw yourself at you husband, grabbing at him with clinging hands.

"Gods, you can't do that" you scolded him, blood pounding in your ears frantically. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack. How can you be so stupidly brave? Damn you!"

Sandor grumbled under his breath, letting an arm drape over you shyly. "Well, I just didn't want Gregor to get the satisfaction of 2 deaths in as many days."

That was a lie, but you let him keep it. You supposed it was easier for him to swallow than the thought he'd done something genuinely selfless for someone he barely knew.

By the end of the day, The Hound almost wished he'd let the kid get crushed if it meant he wouldn't have to bat off so many strangers trying to thank and congratulate him.

Joffrey took great pleasure in the attention. After all, he considered the Hound's success to reflect on him. If The Hound was fearsome, than he was even more so.

Somehow, you even ended up getting caught in the frenzy. The noblewomen who had scorned you now tried to pull you into their conversations. You weren't sure how to feel about that, but mostly smiled and nodded to be polite.

"You must tell us more about how you met, it's so unusual." A strange but well dressed woman pressed.

"It's romantic" another woman dressed all in blue insisted, you had forgotten her name, "I didn't meet my husband until my wedding day."

"Are you going to try for children?" An older woman interjected, "I know you're getting a late start of it, but you still have some good years. Don't let those know-nothing Maesters make you think otherwise."

"Oh, you poor thing" the conversation came back around to the first woman. "I can't imagine the size of those babies"

"Poor thing, my eye" the older woman laughed, "I can imagine the size of that-"

"Lady Florent, you stop right there!" the blue woman scolded her with a fierce blush across her face.

You gave brief but friendly answers, and before long you had them eating out of the palm of your hand.

Maybe Cersei was right.

Maybe you would get on here just fine.

#sandor clegane x reader #cersei lannister x reader #x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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