#written by syubseokie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clefairymuke · 2 years

Text

professor ackerman | one shot

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 6.7K

tw: oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, swearing, levi is an authority figure (professor), dom/sub dynamic, degradation/humiliation, cheating on an s/o, age gap (both adults - early 20s/late 30s), name-calling [slut, whore], daddy kink, size/stretching kink, spanking, pinching, biting, not explicit dumbification but definite vibes, brief mention of cuckholding, gagging, choking, creampie, i need to find a healthier hobby

themes: modern au, professor!levi, writer!levi, professor/student, enemies with benefits, mc's boyfriend (reiner) is right on the other side of the wall, levi is jealous and possessive as fuck, and all of that wonderful stuff in the tw^

tags: @number-0-iz @propertyoftoru @commanderawkward @thenamesholly @shortmexicangirl @missyasma @syubseokie @ceceofthevalley | reply to be added!! (p.s. hi taglist guys, this is a bonus chapter and tbh deviates a little bit from what actually happened but it is an update nonetheless)

note: hi so this is technically a bonus chapter for eloquent, but it's super easy to understand without context. this is just extremely shameless smut and for some reason the longest chapter of anything i've ever written. also, it's in levi's pov, which i personally find rly hot but let me know if you hate it. anyway this is disgusting, i can't believe i'm putting this on the internet, i hope you love it. here's a quick catch-up if not knowing the plot bothers you:

The reader is a graduate writing student studying under your advisor, published author Dr. Levi Ackerman. The two of you quickly find that you don't get along, with almost every meeting ending in tears or a screaming match. Still, an undeniable sexual tension pervades over both of you as you navigate the rocky relationship. Your boyfriend insists on escorting you to his office this week for moral support, oblivious to the steamy moment you had shared with Dr. Ackerman the Tuesday before. Seeing Reiner's hands on you, jealousy starts to take hold of Levi.

LEVI

When Levi pulls the door shut, the incessant ringing in his ears is finally a peaceful, eerie quiet. He watches you as you sweep your hands over your skirt to keep it stuck to your thighs as you take a seat in the plush armchair provided by the university — coarse to the touch, and creamy white, with coral-colored flowers splattered across its upholstery. You’re stiff.

He silently counts how long he’s known you now, but he isn’t confident in his calculations; he guesses four or five weeks, so he’ll call it a month. Long enough to pick up on a few things — how you chew your cheek when you’re nervous, and tuck your head to the ground. He’s noticed that on certain occasions you hold his gaze just a bit too long, and that when you look at the carpet afterward, it’s because your cheeks are blazing.

Does he revel in this? Absolutely. In fact, Levi had come to understand his feelings for you in recent weeks. He’d taken some time to rationalize it, and it seemed obvious: you’re a beautiful, intelligent, feisty young girl pining after his approval. It’s a stereotypical male fantasy, after all. However, he is professional enough to put that aside — or so he thought. Before he had the pleasure of meeting Reiner.

The moment the tall, blond oaf put his meaty hand on the small of your back is when Levi realized that he may have a much larger problem than he had assumed. He couldn’t see behind you, but he could picture those stubby fingers pressing into your skin — and, for whatever reason, this notion reminds him of the fact that you’re sleeping with him. He nearly shivers thinking of it again; he’s an expert at staying stoic, but you push his boundaries from time to time.

Although he has thankfully broken free of the hellscape that was standing in the waiting room with you and your “boyfriend,” Levi is not comforted. If anything, he’s a little more hazy. His temper has been quicker than usual as of late, with little to no help from you. As he walks over to face you, he shuffles through a thousand pressing questions — all of the loud variety, livened with intensely colorful language.

As he strides toward the chair on his side of the desk, your timid frame pulls him in like gravity. He makes a split second decision. Swallowing hard, he speaks. “I’m not reading anything today. I don’t really feel like it.” He turns early as he passes your chair, coming to rest on the edge of his desk; without waiting even a moment, Levi’s trying to find your eyes — but you don’t yield to him. You keep them turned to the ground as you tuck the folder to your side and suck in an irritated breath.

He writes it off as nerves, giving you the benefit of the doubt, but he decides then that he won’t give any second chances today. He isn’t fond of how sharp your tongue has gotten with him. Perhaps you understand the message in his glare despite refusing to meet it — because you oblige. When you speak up, your tone is bouncy and agreeable. It might be believable if you weren’t twirling your hair into intricate knots.

“Okay,” you say, and Levi almost jumps at the sound. You’ve taken your fingers out of your hair and switched to picking at the skin around your thumb. “Do you want to discuss something specific about —”

He wants to groan and roll his eyes, but he refrains. “No,” he interrupts you, tired of waiting. The sound startles you, and you finally meet his gaze. His eyes lock onto yours, studying them as closely as you’ll allow. He needs to gain control of this situation quickly, or he is going to have a nervous break. “You seem anxious. Why?”

The corners of your mouth turn up, but you smother them back down. He watches the gears move in your mind as you think, but it doesn’t take long for you to come up with an answer. “You’re kind of intimidating,” you say, and you’re smiling apologetically. “And after last week. . .”

This makes Levi angry. It’s a little irrational, but real anger nonetheless. He can’t comprehend how you could possibly still be hung up on him scolding you — for acting like a complete dumbass, at that. Not to mention the two impossibly suffocating elephants in the room: the fact that all he wants to do right now is kiss you, and the fact that the man that escorted you here is sitting right outside.

Levi takes a breath, but he doesn’t calm down. “That was last week. You fucked up, and I told you so. I said what I wanted to,” he snaps. Suddenly, as he watches you cower just slightly at the harshness of his tone, he makes several decisions all at once. For one, he decides he doesn't want to see other men touch you. As his eyes wander momentarily down your body, sliding past the achingly short hem of your pretty little schoolgirl skirt and over the slopes of your thighs, he can’t help but imagine the sounds you make when your “boyfriend” pushes the pleated fabric up to your hips. Your legs are crossed so tightly — but he can see you letting them spread, your knees just far enough apart for Levi’s hips to fit snugly. He then decides that he’s so, so sick of holding his hands back from you.

Levi looks back up at you, feeling his slacks growing a little tighter around him as you meet his gaze. You’re like a deer in headlights. He leans in just a millimeter, wandering vision flashing to the skin just below the hem of your skirt once more before his decisions are final. A grin pokes at one corner of his mouth.

“What makes me so intimidating, would you say?” Levi asks, surrendering himself over to Mr. Hyde. His voice is smoother now — more collected — and he suddenly carries himself as if he has a goal in mind. He watches everything, eyes piercing and pressing with the precision of a hawk. He sees your eyebrows shoot upward, but he just nods as if to ask the question once more. He expects you to take a moment to think about it, but you don’t.

“Your eyes,” you blurt out, regret evident on your face before your lips can even close. Levi studies the blood as it rushes to your cheeks, his chest filling up with an excitement that he’s through ignoring. As you clear your throat, he grips the edge of the desk a little tighter. His knuckles are white. Your eyes dart back and forth as you compose yourself. “I suppose your success probably plays a part,” you add, your voice fake and steady. Your eyes are trained on his, unmoving, as if you’re trying to prove he doesn’t scare you. He likes a challenge.

Levi bites the tip of his tongue before he speaks, as if savoring the taste of the question before it’s gone. “And what is it about me that you find so attractive?” he asks, leaning towards you instinctively. As he watches your lips part and your jaw relax out of shock, he can’t help but smirk. He decides that you’re very pretty when you’re flustered. You start stammering, your voice high-pitched and strained rather than the cool and collected tone you pushed before, but Levi waits patiently — the answer to this one has mystified him as of late. He frowns when your eyes shoot to the ground.

He had thought before that he would hesitate before touching you when he’d decided his agenda a moment ago; however, when Levi is faced with the frustration of not being able to see the movements of every little muscle in your face, he becomes impatient. He needs to be able to decipher you. Before a second can pass, he’s reaching out to you, putting one finger on the soft skin under your jaw and lifting your head until your eyes lock. His throat threatens to close, but his voice persists. “It’s rude not to look people in the eyes when you’re speaking to them,” Levi says, and it’s all he can muster. He savors that bewildered look in your eyes for only a second before standing.

The room has risen at least fifty degrees in temperature, and as he decides how he intends to compose himself, the black suit jacket that’s smothering him must absolutely come off. As the coarse fabric passes his fingertips, he’s confident enough to meet your gaze again. When he sees that you’re at least twice as anxious as he is, Levi relaxes just a bit. “Do me a favor and swap with me,” he says, watching intently as you shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together — which he’s sure you think is inconspicuous. “Sit on the desk.” As he motions towards the spot he sat in a moment before with his head, folding his jacket, his memory flashes back to looking up at you some time ago from the waiting room sofa. The temperature rises again.

To his pleasant surprise, you obey immediately. The chair creaks as you rise from it, settling as you inch to the desk only a yard away and spin on your heel. You tuck your skirt underneath you once again as you sit back down. Although Levi has tried to ignore it, the relentless tightness in the crotch of his pants is starting to bother him.

An obnoxious creak rings through the room as he pulls the armchair closer to you, but you don’t seem to notice it. The difference between your demeanor now and the nervous-yet-brash attitude he typically has the pleasure of accompanying is astounding; it’s hard to look anywhere but just in front of him as you fidget in place, pupils blown wide and lips open wider. When Levi is satisfied with the distance between his hands and your body, he takes a seat.

Something like fire runs through his veins when your chin dips down so you can look him in the eye. It’s clear you’ve been eager to prove yourself wrong since your slip a few minutes ago — and Levi can’t help but be impressed by it. He watches your hands as they grip the desk a little tighter, just like he did in the same position. Then, centimeter by centimeter, his gaze trails down to the hem of your skirt. “I like this better,” he says, trying his best to pull his eyes back up to your face, but failing as your knees trail further apart with every word that comes off of his tongue.

Levi thinks of your handsy chaperone just outside, and a bit of anger shoots through him. Before he can even process that, however, it’s already turned to something darker. The newly formed vendetta the lust-hazed man has against your “boyfriend” is not at all justifiable, but that doesn’t make it any less real. If he were to truly have his way — meaning, if he were a much worse person and didn’t care so deeply about your image of him — you’d let him have you against the door, and Levi would be sure to make it rattle as loudly as he possibly could. He might even turn the handle on “accident” and let the door creak open a bit just to be sure your ride-along gets the fucking message.

Then, Levi reminds himself that he is an adult, and that you’re practically squirming in front of him as he takes the time to think this. It’s hardly noticeable, but your shoulders rattle just a bit when you breathe. He loves what he does to you. “That was awkward outside. You’re not nearly as into him as he is you,” he comments after a moment of tense silence. You suck in a sharp breath — a mistake, on your part, because it sends a little jolt of anger through him. Why are you so nervous about Reiner?

He calms a bit as you shake your head, as if in apology. “He’s nice, you know, it’s just not exciting. I don’t feel much of anything,” you say, guilt laced in your voice. He can’t hold back the snicker that escapes his lips as things click into place for him; of course you aren’t a fan of the nice guy — a college-age girl lusting after someone who’s notoriously abrasive and fifteen years older than her usually wouldn’t be.

You look puzzled, so Levi chooses to let you in on the joke. “You don’t seem like the type of girl to like the ones that treat you well. It must be daddy issues or something.” He smiles to himself as you let out a huff; you’re very entertaining when he can manage to piss you off, which is often enough. “I asked if I could touch you before; is the answer still yes? It’s okay if it isn’t.” Levi fixes his gaze on you to gauge how you react — he’d never want you to feel pressured — but he quickly learns that he doesn’t need to.

You take a shuddering breath and practically whisper, “Yes, please,” and it’s all he can do not to push you back against the desk and lift that pretty skirt out of his way. But still, he resists. Today, Levi wants to make a point. What he really wants — which is to pin you down and fuck you until he’s satisfied enough not to think about it all the goddamn time — will have to wait for the next meeting. He’s not worried about the consequences at the moment. Lust might be clouding his judgment, but he figures everything is aired out now. May as well follow through.

You look utterly desperate, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more darling. The word “please” lights a little fire in him; if he’d known all it took for your respect was insinuating he wanted to fuck you, he would’ve started being honest a long time ago. He hums in approval. “Good manners.” This is all it takes to brighten your eyes and perk up your timid frame, and Levi feels himself get harder at the sight of it. He hopes you’re always this desperate to please him — it’s his favorite expression on your angelic face.

He lays his hands on your legs, fingers slipping just past the hem of your skirt; his thumbs comb left and right over the soft skin of your inner thighs, little threads of electricity linking all the way through his veins. Levi nearly joins you as you shiver beneath him, but he stays collected. As beautiful and enticing as you may be, he still has a career to attend to. This meeting is unfortunately crucial to more than one of the writer’s current goals.

“The rest was an improvement, so I didn’t mention it last week, but I feel like some of your more passionate moments fall flat. You get too excited for the end and rush through the most engaging parts,” he tells you, his mouth starting to water as he feels the heat radiating just an inch further up your thighs. The statement is rooted in truth, but it’s also a reasonable explanation for what he’s preparing to do to you. Levi is a prudent believer in killing as many birds as possible with one stone.

The skin is softer the higher his fingertips explore, but you’re beginning to grow impatient. You shift down on the edge of the desk, desperate for his touch just two inches further. He allows one corner of his mouth to turn up as he indulges in your desperation. “How — How can I fix it for next time?” you breathe, and he instinctively pushes right up to the lace of your panties. After all, Levi is just as desperate as you are. A sweet, greedy whine rings from your throat as his fingers brush by, and it’s music to his ears.

He wants to frown as you squeeze your lips together to silence yourself, but he lets it slide. Besides, he’ll have you making prettier sounds in a moment. “I was hoping you’d give me permission to show you. I thought you might want to try something a bit more hands-on,” he replies smoothly. Levi waits for your approval, although he already knows the answer, and you nod eagerly. He can’t help but grip your thighs tighter when he sees your pleading eyes. You’re behaving uncharacteristically well today.

Soft lace brushes against his thumb as he runs it along the edge of your panties, and you inhale sharply. Looking up at you again, you’re practically drooling, with your mouth hanging open and your eyes brimming with lust — and he’s never been so bewitched. Levi thinks for a moment that if sirens and mermaids had your lilting voice and enchanting face, he could finally understand all the dead sailors of literature. He’d take a lifeboat out in a hurricane if it meant you’d need him like this again.

He pulls one hand from the warmth underneath your skirt and reaches up to cup your chin, pulling you closer. As your face creeps forward, he can’t help but stare at your lips. “Are you afraid?” Levi asks, fighting the urge to bring his hand up just an inch and push his thumb into your mouth. This time would be about you.

“Yes,” you reply, trying to let yourself down on his hand inconspicuously once again as he grins up at you. Levi thinks you might get more out of being intimidated than he does out of intimidating you, and he adores it. He grazes his fingertips along your soft cheek as he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Returning to your thighs, he isn’t reserved about touching you any longer. The bottom of your panties is now damp to the touch as Levi tortures you gently through the fabric. A little whimper escapes your lips, sending a pulse through him, and you speak up again. “What should I learn from this?” you ask, needy eyes boring into his as you squirm against his hands.

Levi pretends to think, letting out a “Hm,” as he glances up at the ceiling. “It seems counterproductive to spell it out for you. They’ve been pushing student discovery and critical thinking in recent years, you know,” he teases you, waiting for any little distraction so he can tear off your panties and finally give you exactly what you want. When your eyes squint shut for a melodic laugh, he gets his wish. Taking the lace at your hips in each of his hands, he slides them over your smooth legs and tosses them on the desk you’re perched on.

The spotless white lace flashes through the air, but Levi can’t pull his eyes away from the dark little void underneath your skirt and just between your legs. Pushing the swath of fabric up to your stomach is the only thing on his intensely focused mind, but he doesn’t want you to be satiated yet. Cat and mouse is his favorite game.

“White. What an ironic choice,” Levi jokes, feeling your body shudder with every shallow breath. “It represents innocence, you know. Purity.” For the first time, he really touches you — he drags his finger along the inside of your thigh and then right down your slit, and it pulls him in no matter how much he tries to resist it. The desk creaks as you shift, and Levi can feel what you’re doing before he sees it: one of your hands entangles in the hair on the back of his head, shooting a tingle down to the tips of his toes, and you nudge him closer. You want his mouth on you as badly as he wants to taste you.

The dainty fingers pressing at his scalp can stay for now, but Levi surely doesn’t intend to let you push him around like this — as desperately as he wants to oblige. “And look at you,” he taunts, eyes flashing up to catch yours. “One touch and you’re pathetic.” It’s clear you’re becoming impatient as you tug at him again, more sternly this time, traces of quiet, needy whines and whimpers littering from your plush lips. Poor thing — you can’t possibly be the one in charge when you’re like this. Levi takes a bit of the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh and pinches it, just hard enough to get your attention.

A high pitched yelp escapes your mouth and your hand falls back at your side, satisfying him for now. You pout at him, but he just glares back, giving you a tsk. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Levi warns, ”I’ll make you wait longer.” He’s not sure if he can follow through on this threat, but he won’t need to. Seeing the sincerity in your eyes when you nod back at him, he knows you’re putty in his hands.

That expression is all it takes to break him. He takes the hem of your skirt and pushes it up over your pelvis, sliding his hands further upward to grab onto your hips. As he stands, your bodies parallel and only an inch apart, he adjusts you to sit just a bit further back. As deeply as Levi wants to look down at your now-exposed cunt, he’s locked on your eyes. Your smooth skin erupts in goosebumps underneath him as he draws circles on your lower back with his fingertips, fighting the ferocious urge to attach his lips onto yours. “Do you know my first name?“ he murmurs lowly, each of your shallow breaths on his face sending a shiver down his spine. The tip of your nose brushes against the tip of his as you nod, and he thinks he might faint. “Tell it to me,” he begs.

He relishes in your shallow gasp before you oblige him. “Levi,” you say, near a moan. He has to hold in one of his own as the sound rings through his ears, disguising it as an approving hum. Prying one hand from its position on your lower back, he reaches up to pat your cheek twice.

“Good girl,” he coos, before finally dropping to his knees. The coarse carpet scratches through the fabric of Levi’s slacks, like tiny needles poking at his knees, but he puts it aside. The sweet scent drifting to his nose and the lovely sight just a few inches in front of him are enough to cure any ailment. Every millimeter of your deprived skin shudders beneath his touch as he trails up your thighs, stopping at the deep creases at the tip top of each of your legs. He aches to go further, but he stops himself.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Beg me for it.” He licks his dry lips before blowing a thin stream of cold air over your exposed clit, feeling your body squirm and tremble beneath his touch. Levi almost smiles.

“Touch me,” you breathe out, and he loves it — but you don’t get to make demands today. He pinches your thigh again, drawing another yelp from your open lips. Your legs close reflexively, forcing his hands out and pinching his eyebrows together. There isn’t any resistance when Levi knocks them apart again, so he pushes your knees a few inches further than they were before, giving you a little tut.

“Don’t whisper,” Levi demands. “Speak in complete sentences.” His impatience becomes overwhelming when he sees the insides of your thighs glistening as they spread, wanting nothing more than to find out how it tastes.

“I want you to touch me,” you admit. “Please, Levi. I can’t wait anymore.”

Instead of pausing to consider that he’s going straight to hell for this — as he probably should — Dr. Ackerman just relinquishes all control to the far less respectable character he’s displayed so blatantly in recent weeks. If the spiteful, lustful man on his knees in front of you had ever bothered to fear God, he’s suddenly very sure he’d be damned anyway. So he just dives into you, unhesitant, wrapping his arms tight around your thighs and pressing his fingers into your lower back. He feels your skin move under his nails as your spine arches, and your stomach presses against the top of his head.

The taste overwhelms him, distinctly saccharine with a citrus-like tang as he dances circles around your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue. The fervent moan that erupts from your lips is so heavenly that Levi is sure he’s dreaming it. He expects more to follow as he laps expertly at the oasis beneath him, a low growl gathering in his chest, but you soullessly mute yourself after that. Stubbornness overtakes him as the knots in his stomach tense at the loss of your sweet voice, sending his face to burrow deeper and his tongue to swirl more deliberately in an effort to draw out another.

Unhinging the desperate grip he holds on the small of your back, he traces a measured circle around your slick, neglected entrance with one finger, relishing in your indigent shiver. Although he’s reluctant to lose the taste, Levi releases your clit from his mouth and directs his attention to your alluring gaze as a muffled whimper sounds behind your hand — which is clamped stiffly over your mouth in an effort to deprive the starving beggar beneath you of the only thing that can satisfy him. Swift as to avoid any protests, he plucks your hand away by your wrist and sets it dismissively back on the desk. “I want to hear you,” he says ardently, unmoving in his conviction.

Your eyes go wide, signaling some imminent danger to which Levi must be oblivious. His mind is clouded under somewhat of a frenzy as your taste soaks between his lips to endlessly land fresh on his tongue. “But I — He’s —” you try to argue, your anxiously roaming eyes falling on his mouth far too often to be inconspicuous. He hopes that you kiss him, but you speak again instead. “Levi, please,” you beg, doe-like eyes boring into the great oak door at his back. In an instant, it clicks: he realizes that you don’t want your boyfriend to hear you.

Levi licks his glistening lips, looking you up and down as you cower under his desirous glare. He jerks his head to the beige wall that divides his office, feeling a grin tug one corner of his mouth up in anticipation. “Go put your hands against that wall,” he orders, sizing up your reaction with glossy, insatiable eyes. Your head shakes immediately, but he can see your thighs rub together in search of friction. He narrows his stare. “What’s that you said yesterday? ‘I can’t speak to you that way?’ Where’s that brave girl now?” Levi taunts, rising from his seat and stepping back to give you room. “Go, brat. Don’t act innocent now.”

You obey, affirming once again that you’re willing to do anything he asks. His stiff, swollen cock threatens at the zipper of his pants, but he contains himself a little longer. Watching you prance across the office as your skirt flounces behind you is enough to unnerve him, but seeing your dainty, slender fingers spread when your palms lay flat on the wall almost takes him out. Levi’s shameless eyes focus blatantly on your ass as it invites his belt buckle to rest against it.

One of your straying strands of hair tickles his nose after a few long strides across the room, and he no longer has the patience to make you wait. A whimper sounds from your obscured mouth as he kisses your neck and grinds against your near-exposed ass, taking your untouched breasts in his hands and kneading them gently. Your ear lands flush against the wall as Levi pins you against it with his torso, and you moan despite the obvious reminder of your gentleman caller. “What’s wrong?” he teases in your ear, feeling you tense beneath his embrace. You’ve been awfully quiet today. “Say it out loud,” he enforces.

Dr. Ackerman explores you after weeks of holding himself back, rolling his hips against you assertively and taking your stiff nipples between his fingers over your soft sweater. “My boyfriend is right outside,” you breathe, letting an unabashed whine sing from your throat as you grind back against him, shaking your ass against the already-engorged bulge in his slacks.

A laugh bubbles from Levi’s mouth. “And I’m right here. Which one are you begging to fuck you right now? Is it him?” You don’t say anything for a long moment, bringing a scowl to his face. He reluctantly lets go of one of your supple breasts and instead smacks your ass, biting scarcely at your neck as a little sting branches through his palm. You yelp. “Answer me when I speak to you,” he orders.

“No.” you reply swiftly. “It’s you, Levi.” The sound of his first name set in your beautiful voice fills him with a warmth he can’t describe as a rare, wide smile flashes into your neck. With that, he sinks to his knees, burying his face between your cheeks and tasting you on his tongue once again. Levi has finally defeated all of his inhibitions as he licks hungrily at your folds, moaning along with you as you finally let loose. He sucks harshly at your clit as he plunges two fingers into your dripping pussy, thrusting them to the rhythm of his name pouring from your lips. “Levi, Levi, Levi,” you repeat, rocking yourself back against his fingers pathetically.

The addition of a third finger and a slight curve at the knuckle brings about an unbearably arousing squeal as he thumps against your g-spot, never relenting his steady assault on the swollen nub he holds gently between his teeth. “Levi, fuck, please — I’m about to cum,” you beg, and Dr. Ackerman ceases all of his movements at once. Dick twitching at the sound of your voice, he realizes he needs to feel you throb around it when he makes you cum for the first time. His fingertips glide up your bare legs as he stands, listening to the needy whimpers you produce as you cope with the loss of contact.

The ends of your eyelashes brush at his cheeks when Levi twirls you to face him, pressing your back firmly against the wall and sliding a brave hand loosely around the base of your throat. At an approving hitch of your breath, he lets it tighten. At the left, his other hand brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down to hold your chin in place. He watches your eyelids flutter when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, desire washing over him as your mouth falls invitingly open. Wet, coarse tastebuds brush beneath his touch as your lips open wider and his thumb comes to rest on the back of your tongue, feeling it move as you gag at the invasion before adjusting. He admires your perseverance.

Static rolls over Levi’s body when you close your mouth and hollow your cheeks around the digit, your big, innocent eyes never leaving his own. As your tongue swirls around his finger, every thought in his hazy mind spirals down to tossing you to your knees and burying himself as deeply in your throat as he can manage.

He digs his thumb a little deeper, making you gag again. “You look so fucking pretty like this, baby,” he murmurs, the hand around your throat unwrapping itself to trail down your arm. “I never knew it would be so easy to get you to shut the fuck up.” Levi pulls his thumb from the warm solace of your mouth and starts at his buckle as his right hand wraps around your wrist. He spins you to face the wall before wrapping the arm around your back and holding it taut. A puzzled yelp rings in his ears as he yanks his zipper down.

His stiff, throbbing length springs straight out as he pulls the waistband of his underwear down just enough to free it; impatience overcomes any inclination toward nakedness. You gasp as the sensitive tip brushes against your clothed frame. The scents of vanilla and sex invade his senses as he presses his face into your neck, grinding himself against you until he can feel your dampness through the polyester. After a moment of this, Levi takes your other wrist and pins it roughly alongside the other.

“Tell me what you want,” he groans softly, leisurely pumping his dick with one hand and restraining your hands with the other. “Loud enough so you aren’t sure if your boyfriend can hear you or not.” Levi chuckles to himself, groping your ass roughly before returning his hand to himself. “Show me how bad you want it, desperate little brat.”

He realizes he’s broken you in nicely when your voice rings out clear and loud, your ass grinding back against his cock as you speak. It takes everything in him not to thrust into your dripping heat before you even finish your thought. “Please fuck me, daddy. Keep talking to me like this. Please,” you whine shamelessly, leaving Levi in shambles.

Having women call him something so lewd has never crossed his mind — Professor or Dr. works nicely in a pinch — but it sounds so delicious to him coming from your sweet lips. Folding your skirt up over your ass with one hand and lining himself up at your entrance with the other, Levi lets out a husky groan. His mind is cloudier than it’s ever been as the sensitive head of his dick drags through the slick juices soaking down to your inner thighs. “Fuck, call me that again, baby. ‘M gonna fuck you so good,” he mumbles into your neck.

Levi’s tight, sweet haven resists him as soon as he starts to enter you, but you shove your hips back onto his cock in retaliation. He feels like he’s found nirvana as your warm pussy grips the tip of his dick, pushing to take more. Electricity to a level he’s never experienced shoots through every vein underneath his skin as you envelope him. He quickens his pace as soon as he’s submerged enough, looping his free hand around to rub circles on your clit.

Pretty, singing moans ring out from your lips like you have no worries in the world. “So big, daddy,” you whine, throwing your ass back on his length with more conviction. “I want all of it.”

He adjusts your walls roughly around his width without waiting for them to relax completely, hungry to feel your cunt pulse as he pounds your furthest depths. A fourth of his throbbing length still remains uncovered after the third rough stroke, but the blissful string of moans ringing from your pretty throat lead him to believe that you love being stretched as much as he loves the way you squeeze his cock.

“I wonder what your boyfriend thinks you sound like right now, huh, pretty girl? Does he think you sound desperate?” he growls, tightening his hold on your restrained arms as he thrusts into you. “I think you sound like a greedy,” deeper, “fucking,” harder, “slut,” to the hilt.

Levi sees stars when it finally swallows him whole, the head of his dick battering the back-most wall of your snug pussy. His enlightened ears are full of lewd, unabashed moans as he fucks into you, rolling his hips with every stroke. The tops of your legs start to shake with his assault on your clit, your noises becoming more desperate. “I’m close,” you whine, laying your head back on his shoulder.

Your wide, beautiful eyes entrance him as Levi feels your walls pulse around his cock. “Cum for me, princess,” he coos, holding your gaze and rubbing your clit faster. “Let him hear what a good whore you are for me.” He didn’t think it was possible, but the warm, dripping mess surrounding him grows even wetter with his words.

Your cunt convulses around him as you release, sending waves of intolerable pleasure through his body. As you cry out for him, Dr. Ackerman’s eyes get even darker. Although he planned to keep a steady rhythm and let you ride out your orgasm peacefully, he picks up the pace. Dropping your arms, he spreads your asscheeks wide and digs himself a little deeper, beating so harshly against your spot that he’s sure it’s painful.

“Look at you,” Levi mocks, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a perfect red handprint. Your pussy clenches tight, and you let out an angelic sound. “You aren’t ashamed of yourself at all, are you?”

It’s difficult to discern your words between the moans, but he refuses to slow his pounding. “No, sir,” you stammer out, digging your fingernails into the wall. “I love it.”

Levi rakes his hands underneath your sweater and unclasps your bra with urgency, sliding his palms over your breasts. A pinch to both of your nipples earns a squeal before he rolls them around in his fingertips and feels you purr beneath him. “You’re behaving so well for me,” he hums, slowing his strokes gradually until they’re mind numbing. “Who do you belong to, sweet girl?”

Levi’s breath catches in his throat as you clench around his length, sending his cock a little deeper. For a moment, it crosses his mind that he loves you. Your quiet whimpers get more desperate the slower he goes. “I’m yours, daddy — fuck — Levi, please don’t stop,” you beg.

He swiftly unsheathes his dick, the loss of contact overwhelming as he turns you around to face him. Without a word, Levi loops his arms under your shamefully wet thighs and lifts you, pinning your back roughly against the wall and planting his forehead against yours. He slides into your soaking cunt like it was tailored to fit him, watching your eyes roll back into that pretty, empty head. “Let me cum in my pussy, baby,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he adjusts to the intense pleasure. “Before I — ah, shit, that’s good,” he breaks off, tightening his hold on your shaking legs as your walls constrict around him and you nod eagerly in approval. “Before I send you back to your cuck fucking boyfriend,” he moans in your ear.

The knots in his stomach are wound tighter than he thought, but he keeps himself steady as he rocks into you, looking down to watch his thick, glistening cock split you open as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Levi attaches his hungry lips to your neck as he feels his orgasm approach him. A sweet sting pricks through him as ten fingernails dig into his scalp, entangling in his hair, and he lets out an animalistic moan while you release around him.

He spreads your legs a little wider, ignoring your pained whimper to touch your knees to the wall as he drills you harder, and deeper. There’s no banter left for him to spout anymore — the only thing in Levi’s mind is burying his cum in his new favorite toy.

He bites down hard on your collarbone as his thrusts start to lose their rhythm, the knots in his stomach unraveling as his dick twitches inside of you. Euphoria overcomes him as he drives his cock down to its hilt and lets his climax take him over. Levi doesn’t stifle the low, raspy moans that escape his throat as he feels his cum flood into you, his dick throbbing in time with every shallow breath. Nothing has ever felt this good.

Burying his face in your neck, Levi allows himself this long moment of peace.

370 notes · View notes

syubseokie · 3 years

Text

jealous (m) | jjk

― pairing: fem!reader x jungkook (jeon jungkook); fem!reader x vmin if you squint ― genre: established relationship!au, non-idol!au, smut ― warnings: age gap (2 years), swearing, alcohol, jealous!reader x jealous!jungkook, noona kink (sorry not sorry), explicit sexual content, softdom!jungkook, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation, light choking, squirting, creampie ― summary: reader is jungkook’s hot older girlfriend and is well-acquainted with the clubbing lifestyle. Along with yoongi, hoseok, jimin and taehyung, they head out to one of the clubs where jungkook fights an internal battle regarding his girlfriend. OR the one where our reader has a ‘noona’ kink and jungkook almost fucks her in an elevator ― notes: this is a re-written version of my 2015 story that you can find here. loosely inspired by nick jonas & tinashe’s ‘jealous (remix)’ (2016) and man-bun!jungkook | cross-posted from ao3

∞

Friday night.

You carefully apply a coat of what you have dubbed your favourite ‘black like my soul’ lipstick, then place a tissue between your plump lips. “How far away are you and the boys?” you ask into your cell phone that sits atop your vanity dresser. You closely examine your painted lips in the mirror, liking what you see.

Perfect, you smirk.

“We’re around the corner,” a deep voice on the other end of the core replies and your core clenches in memory of the face the voice belongs to. “Are you almost ready?”

Stepping back to admire your reflection, you smooth down the wrinkles in your skirt and turn on every angle to see if anything is out of place. “I’m just doing my final touches,” you answer, raising the volume of your voice just a tiny bit so they can hear. “Do you want to beep and I’ll come out, or did you want to come inside first?” You begin to pack the necessary makeup, your ID, and credit cards into a small purse.

Some rustling on the other end is heard before the male responds, “We’ve actually just pulled up in front of your apartment if you’re ready.”

Checking your reflection one last time and sending a quick selfie with the caption ‘guess who’s going out tonight?’, you switch your bedroom lights off, then proceed to make sure that all the necessary electrical switches around your apartment are turned off as well. “I’m just locking up now and I’ll be down in less than two.”

“Okay then, noona,” the voice says, “see you soon.”

∞

“Is she on her way down?” Jimin asks, squinting out the car window for any sign of the female.

Jungkook makes a humming noise as he ends the call and slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “She’s just locking up.”

“Are you excited, Kook?” The excited grin Taehyung wears matches the energy in his voice. “This is your guys’ first time clubbing together, right?”

The youngest male shrugs with nonchalance, hiding his nerves.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Jimin exclaims. “He gets to show off his hot, older girlfriend.”

Even before the two of you had started dating, Jungkook knew you were a social butterfly that thrived on having your Friday and Saturday filled with drinks and dancing. It is how we met after all, he muses. Your reputation for getting “turnt up”, as Taehyung had once so eloquently put it, was renowned within the group, and it was common knowledge that you were a “go hard or go home!” type of party person.

A smack on his shoulder brings Jungkook out of his thoughts and Jimin points out the window. “Here she comes.”

Hoseok, who is sitting in the driver’s seat as the night’s DSD (Designated Sober Driver), whistles in appreciation.

“Better watch your girl,” Taehyung jesters, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jungkook glances out the window and he can’t help that the sight of you exiting the building makes the area around his crotch a just a little bit tighter.

You look drop-dead hot and you know it. Sauntering towards the vehicle wearing a black velvet spaghetti strap mini dress and your ‘step on my neck’ thigh high stilettos in the same colour, you know the boys are looking at you and you can’t help but add a little more sway to your hips as a smirk graces your dark lips. The front passenger seat window rolls down to reveal Yoongi giving you a once-over.

“Is it too late to say I like pussy?” he jokes, and you playfully twirl like you’re on a catwalk; revealing a cheeky glimpse of your backside and the thin black material that sits comfortably between your round cheeks.

“Only if Hoseok joins.”

The car door opens and Jungkook steps out, looking absolutely delectable in a light charcoal gray suit with his freshly dyed purple locks pulled back in a bun. The two of you share a hungry look, and as you slide into the car, Jungkook is tempted to pull you back out and drag you back into your apartment.

“Gentlemen,” you greet, putting your seatbelt on, “How are we all?”

They greet you excitedly, complimenting your look for the night.

“It’s giving Ariana Grande’s ‘Break up with your Boyfriend.” Taehyung muses, childishly snapping the strap of your dress. “Spicy.”

You roll your eyes and focus your attention on the boy sitting next to you. A genuine, soft smile appears on your face as you take Jungkook’s hand and place a kiss on his tattooed knuckles. “Hi baby,” you whisper softly, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

He squeezes your hand affectionately, loss for words, when the black choker around your neck catches his eye and he zeroes in on the small diamante initials dangling in the centre.

JK.

His brain short-circuits and his pants grow uncomfortably tighter. The sound of your voice saying his name brings him out of his stupor and his gaze quickly travels down your form, soaking you in. When his eyes meet yours, he notices the pink in your cheeks and the slight hitch in your breath when his fingers reach up to touch the material around your neck.

“Do you like it?” Your words are barely audible, only loud enough for him to hear, and he nods before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead and wrapping you under his arm.

“You look beautiful, noona.”

You preen at the compliment, but you can’t help but notice that there is something off. You are not sure how or what it is, but the slight twitch in his pierced brow and the clenched fist on his lap has you concerned. “Jungkook,” you cup his face, bringing his attention to your slightly worried face. “Are you alright? You seem a little on edge?”

He isn’t sure how to answer but he feels awful when he sees your eyebrows stitch together in uncertainty. “I’m fine,” he reassures. He un-clenches his fist and caresses the apple of your cheeks. Your eyes close and you lean into his soft touch; the smell of him overwhelming your senses with comfort and longing. “Just a little tired, that’s all. I’ll be fine once we get to the club.” He boops your nose affectionately, breaking into a smile that warms your heart and the space between your legs.

You return his smile and whisper playfully into his ear, “We don’t have you go out tonight if you don’t want to. I’m happy just to stay home and have our own little birthday celebration.”

“We already did,” his tone matches the sultriness in your own, “On my actual birthday night, remember?”

You smirk knowingly. “Oh, I remember. And I won’t argue against skipping tonight if we get to do it again.”

A gagging noise breaks the obvious sexual tension between the two of you, and you both turn to glare at Jimin who is staring back at you with a semi-disgusted look on his face. “I don’t know what kind of kinky shit you two get up to in the room but unless you’re inviting all of us, please don’t make me privy to it.”

You grin mischievously. “All you have to do is ask, Park.”

His cheeks are red with embarrassment - and arousal, which he will vehemently deny - and you send him a flirty wink and air kiss before settling back into Jungkook’s embrace. The light touch of your lips on his cheeks and the cheers from your friends as Taehyung passes around a flask is enough to calm Jungkook’s nerves.

∞

The club is as busy as expected. You weren’t really one to skip lines, but seeing that you actually knew one of the bouncers ― “Namjoon!” you cry happily, engulfing the tall blond in your arms and placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Your eyes bulge at his solid chest. “Since when did you get these?” ― you and the boys were lucky enough to bypass the thirty minute wait and get a free round of drinks from the Bar Manager and Namjoon’s boyfriend, Seokjin.

Jungkook won’t admit it, but your friendly personality and knack for knowing everyone did have its benefits.

However, standing at the bar next to Yoongi and Hoseok watching you and the dynamic duo grind to the beat of whatever generic pop remix the DJ is spinning, does nothing to placate the irritated feeling in his chest. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens and his left eye twitches when you grind your backside provocatively against Taehyung’s belt and Jimin slides his thigh between your legs. Your arms are wrapped around Jimin’s neck loosely and your head is thrown back against Taehyung’s shoulder while his hands rest comfortably on your hips, guiding them along to the beat of the music.

“I know that look,” Seokjin says loudly as he rests his arms on the counter, slightly scaring the younger male. “Think of it this way; at least she’s not doing that with two complete strangers.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens as he takes a sip of the strong drink. “I would rather her not be doing that with anyone at all.”

Yoongi side-eyes Jungkook with concern. “Are you alright kid? You seemed upset earlier this evening.”

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook waves his hand dismissively before finishing his drink. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, encouraging the younger to speak. “It’s just that...” he sighs, unsure of how to continue, “I know the three of them have history―”

“The three of them have been friends for a very long time,” Hoseok, his chin resting on Yoongi’s shoulder, interrupts with a comforting, but firm, smile. “I know where your mind is at, JK, but Yoongi and I have also known her just as long as those two have. Trust us. Trust them.

“Trust her.” Yoongi finishes, sending Hoseok a thankful smile and subtly rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

Jungkook casts another look out onto the dance floor and sees you sandwiched between Taehyung and Jimin, head thrown back in full laughter as they lead you in a very awkward yet hilarious three-person tango.

Sighing guiltily, he scans the nearest bathroom and tells his friends he’ll be right back. Thankfully there is no line and he nods at the security guard standing in front of the bathroom door. It is empty inside so he quickly relieves himself then washes his hands. As he pulls his hair into a small ponytail ― “Man bun,” he hears you chide with a small giggle ― letting a few tendrils frame his face, he stares at his reflection.

Come on man, he scolds, get it together.

He splashes some water on his face, and then with one final look in the mirror for confidence, he exits the bathroom. He immediately spots Hoseok and Yoongi on the dance floor with you, and his eyes soften as he watches the four males cheer and hype you up. He is undeniably in love with you, and when he locks eyes with you amongst the crowd, your lips curling into a coaxing smirk, he feels the blood from his head rush down to the semi-hard appendage in his pants.

He begins to make his way through the crowd when suddenly, he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

Confused, he turns around and is greeted by a petite female he doesn’t recognise.

“Sorry,” she says, nervously biting her lips, “I don’t mean to bother you…” she casts a quick look backwards.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He follows her gaze, trying to see what she is looking at or looking for, but the woman is already facing him. She steps closer to him and he forces himself to remain in his spot. “Is something wrong?”

She lowers her head hesitantly and Jungkook has to bend to hear her, “My ex is at the bar and has been harassing me all night.”

Not one to leave someone unhelped, Jungkook scans the area for any available security. “Do you need me to call security?”

“No!” she cries, confusing him. Before he can react, she grabs his hands and places them on her hips before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer. “He’s not dangerous, just persistent. If he sees me dancing with someone else, he’ll leave me alone.”

“Oh.” Jungkook gulps nervously and he can feel his hands getting clammy. “Um…” he tries to inconspicuously wipe his hands on her dress, but the movement is misconstrued when the female takes it as a sign to press her body closer to his.

∞

“I should probably go and help him,” you sigh pitifully, watching your sweet, sweet boyfriend struggle to politely remove the woman’s arms wrapped around his neck. You can’t help but feel a certain type of way as your eyes rake over Jungkook’s toned figure. His shirt sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattoos, and your mouth salivates at the sight. Never have you been so attracted to someone before.

It’s something you consider making very clear to the woman trying to seduce your boyfriend on the dance floor.

“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice?” Taehyung jokes as he and Jimin stand either side of you, also watching the scene in front of them. The three of you are resting against a wall that gives you a full visual of the dance floor, while Yoongi and Hoseok have wandered to the bathroom.

“Please. I don’t get jealous.”

As if mocking you, the DJ smoothly transitions the current set into Nick Jonas and Tinashe’s remix of ‘Jealous’, and your two friends snicker at the irony.

“I think both the universe and the DJ disagrees with you.”

“Don’t make me stab you with my heel, Kim.”

He has the audacity to wink. “Wouldn’t be the first time, babe.”

“I’ll make sure it hurts this time.”

“Promises, promises,” he tuts, running a hand through his honey-blonde locks.

“If you two are finished sharing your pain kinks,” Jimin interrupts with an eye roll at your antics, “I think our golden boy might actually need rescuing.”

Landing one last jab in your friend’s abdomen, you redirect your attention back to your boyfriend. Your eyes narrow when the female whispers in his ear, a flirtatious smile painting her red lips, before she spins and seductively slides her body down his front and then slowly grinds her backside back up his leg.

Wordlessly, you push yourself off the wall and make your way towards Jungkook, leaving Jimin and Taehyung watching you maneuver through the crowd. They admire the way your presence alone has people seamlessly moving out of your way.

��The power she holds…” Jimin murmurs.

Taehyung nods in agreement, licking his lips.

∞

Jungkook is frozen when the woman turns around and faces him once again, her chest against his and her lips dangerously close to his neck. He doesn’t deny that the woman in his arms is attractive, but the strong scent of her perfume tingles his nasal senses in a not-so-nice way, and he fights the urge to sneeze.

She peers up at him with a small, flirtatious smile. “I’m sorry for coming so strongly onto you like this,” she purrs, and Jungkook notes that the coquettish lilt in her tone is anything but apologetic. “But I really appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

I didn’t though, Jungkook thinks to himself. His fists clench at his side. “It’s not a problem…” he curses the way he stumbles over his words. “Do you think your ex has left yet?”

The woman hums, throwing an all-too-quickly half-hearted look over her shoulder before returning her attention back to the young male. “No, he’s still there. We’ll just have to keep dancing until he gets bored.” Her eyes flutter innocently. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Uh…” Before Jungkook can even think of a reply, he feels an arm slide between his and gently grab his hand. The touch is familiar and Jungkook visibly relaxes as you stand next to him and uncurl his fist to interlace his fingers with yours. “Noona…” he breathes in relief.

To anyone looking, the smile on your face appears warm and easy-going. But Jungkook recognises the look in your eye, and he’s torn between being grateful or nervous. “Baby,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on Jungkook’s cheek that has him blushing at the public display of affection. “Who’s your friend?”

The woman pauses, the frown on her face declaring her obvious unhappiness at your presence, then folds her arms defensively. “We were just dancing.”

“When?”

The woman falters. “When what?”

“When did I ask?” Your tone is sharp, scathing, as you finally turn your attention to her and raise a perfectly arched brow; silently daring her to speak.

Like something out of a K-drama scene, the female scoffs. “Who are you? His girlfriend?”

You almost laugh at the cheesiness. Thanks to the inches in your heels, you stand a few centimetres taller than her, making your presence that more intimidating. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Is he not allowed to dance with other women?” she sneers and you sigh, bored.

Deciding to ignore the woman altogether, you gaze at Jungkook, who is staring back at you adoringly, your free hand creeping up his back to lightly graze the back of his neck. You ask, “Home time?” and he nods fervently. Without sparing another glance at the female, you lead Jungkook by the hand. Just like Jimin and Taehyung, he is in awe at how your presence parts the crowd on the floor like the Red Sea.

The two of you reach the rest of the boys by the bar, and with a simple, “we’re off; love yous” followed by Hoseok reminding you to text them when you get home, the two of you exit the club and catch a taxi back to your apartment.

∞

Although the ride back to your apartment is quick, Jungkook struggles to hold himself together in the backseat as your hands lightly trace non-existent patterns on his thigh while holding a small conversation with the driver. He doesn’t know how you’re able to multitask so effortlessly when he’s shifting uncomfortably at the tightness in his pants, but he draws it up to one of your many talents.

When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment complex, Jungkook hurriedly places a large bill in the driver’s hand, telling him to keep the change, before helping you out of the car and pulling you towards the entrance to your building. Your melodic laughter rings throughout the lobby as you wait for the elevator ― your building’s security guard acknowledges the two of you from their post with a knowing smile ― and when the doors close and the lift ascends, Jungkook’s large hands are cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. He licks at the seam of your mouth, foregoing any softness you’re used to, and when you part your lips, his tongue is exploring every crevice inside.

There is urgency and want in the kiss which you return happily.

Reaching up, you playfully tug on the man bun that has been giving you grief since the start of the night and Jungkook moans at the sensation of his hair being pulled. The sound shoots straight to your core, and you grind helplessly against his thigh that slides between your legs. You moan at the friction.

With one hand, he frantically pulls your already short dress higher; his palm sliding the material further up before gripping your thigh and wrapping it around his waist, the heel of your boot digging into his back deliciously. You sigh happily; the cool metal of his buckle hitting your centre. It’s not exactly what you want, but you don’t complain. Anything will do if it is rubbing against your covered clit.

Jungkook smirks into the kiss and grinds his hard, albeit clothed, cock against your core. The sound you make drives him crazy. “You’re so needy, noona.” He pants, trailing kisses down the column of your neck. He is greeted by the velvet material around your neck, and the bejewelled initials dangling in the centre brings out something feral in him. “Did you wear this just for me, hm?” he asks, fingers lightly grazing the choker.

“Jungkook…”

He raises a pierced brow and you can’t find it in yourself to argue at how hot the simple action is. “While I enjoy hearing my name spill from your lips, that’s not the answer I was looking for.”

You’re dazed and confused, the bright lights from the elevator blinding you as you feel Jungkook’s deft fingers lightly graze your neck, your clavicle, down between the valley of your breasts, and then disappearing beneath your dress. You can barely breathe his name, but when you feel the briefest of touches against the material covering your centre, you can’t help the long drawn out “yes” that falls from your lips. The sound is embarrassingly pornographic, and you hate that with just the simplest of touches, Jungkook has you reduced to a wanton mess.

“Say it again for me.” Your boyfriend coaxes, his long digits inching towards the band of your underwear. “Did you wear that choker just for me?”

You bite your bottom lip in an effort to keep your noises at bay, but Jungkook is having none of that. He kisses you harshly, nipping your lip hard but not enough to draw blood, as his fingers slide beneath the material that guards the place where you want him most. You move your hips reflexively against his thigh, but the pressure isn’t enough, making you whimper needily. “Kook...please...want you…”

“Right here?” Jungkook asks, his fingers caressing your lower lips. “In this elevator?”

You whimper again and Jungkook offers you a moment of reprieve. The pads of his fingers find the nub hidden between your lower lips, and you sigh in relief. Gently, he rubs circles and whispers words of encouragement as your arms come up behind his neck and your hands find purchase in his hair. Sliding your wetness from your clit to your entrance, you shiver at the feeling, pleading with him to use his fingers. “Jungkook…” you moan, grinding down. “Stop teasing. Please.”

His thumb on your clit feels euphoric, but your core clenches around nothing and you want more. Need more. His lips are on your neck and his voice is soft when he says, “Whatever you want, noona.”

Satisfaction and excitement courses through your body when he rubs his middle finger against your entrance, but the feeling is interrupted when the sound of the elevator doors opening pulls you from your reverie.

“Fuck!” Jungkook growls in frustration and he reluctantly retracts his fingers to help adjust your clothes.

The two of you are breathing heavily when you part, dishevelled, but the look you share is animalistic and impatient. You exit the lift and swiftly walk to your apartment door; Jungkook right at your heels, his hands tightly gripping your sides and his teeth lightly nibbling on the clear expanse of your neck. Your mind is clouded with arousal and want as you struggle to open your door.

“Noona,” he grunts, grinding his hard length against your cheeks, “If you don’t hurry and open your apartment, I will fuck you against this door and I won’t care who sees us.”

You are tempted to just let it happen when your core clenches around absolutely nothing, but the sliver of conscious that reminds you that you like living in this building and footage of you having sex with your boyfriend in the hallway is a one-way ticket to eviction is enough for you to clumsily unlock your front door. The two of you stumble into your place, quickly dropping your belongings on the side table near the entrance followed by a swift back kick that slams the front door close.

Without warning, Jungkook pins you against the door, the look in his eyes commanding you to stay put as he drops to his knees. His hands are soft as he brings one leg up over his shoulder and noses your thigh up your dress. The smell of you is familiar and the purple-haired boy snarls at the memory of your taste.

“Can’t believe you got all dressed up like this for me,” he whispers and you nod frantically, hoping he foregoes the teasing and puts his tongue where you so desperately want it. You thread your fingers through his hair, discarding the elastic holding his hair together, and push your hips against his face. If there is one thing you’re not, it’s patient. Jungkook knows that all too well. He smirks at your frustration. “You looked so fucking hot tonight, noona―” the title makes you preen and your boyfriend teases your centre with his fingers with a chuckle. “I really wish we had just stayed home like you suggested. But then I would have missed the show tonight. Who knew you could be so possessive?” He slides the flimsy material covering what he so desperately craves and swipes his tongue between your lower lips.

“Fuck!” You pull his hair and dig the heel of your boot into his back. There is vague recognition of the pattern he draws against your clit to be the spelling of his own name, rendering you speechless, but then he is pushing a single digit into your dripping core. The stretch is pleasant and you throw your head back whilst pushing his face against your centre.

Jungkook smirks at your reaction. His eyes close as he savours your taste, adding another finger and drawing out another sinful moan from your lips. Your hips move in tandem with his tongue on your clit, words stuttering into nothing but delicious moans and cries. He feels you clench around his fingers and the memory of you clenching around his cock is enough to cause said cock to harden in the tight confines of his pants. As desperate as he is to fuck you senseless, he needs you to come on his fingers first. Reluctantly, he pulls his mouth away, hushing your whimpers with gentle praises as his fingers move in and out of you.

“You’re so good for me, noona.”

“Look at you; so pretty while fucking yourself on my fingers, pretending it’s my cock.”

“Tell me what you want, baby, what you need.”

The coil in your gut is winding tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers inside of you. With the added pressure of his finger rubbing your clit, it takes no time at all for you to be falling over the metaphoric edge of your climax. You cry out in euphoric pleasure, chanting his name like a mantra.

“Jungkook...Jungkook...Jungkook…”

Both your hands find purchase on the door behind you, grinding down on his fingers as you allow his soft words to guide you through your orgasm. His fingers slowly pull out of you and he brings the digits to his mouth. Your breathing is heavy and uneven, but the sight of Jungkook slurping on your juices makes your pupils dilate. He groans as if he’s never tasted anything better, and without warning, pulls your hips forward and thrusts his tongue up into you.

“Motherfucker!”

Jungkook chuckles darkly. “That’s not my name.”

You’re sensitive, but the younger male is relentless. “Kook...please...I can’t…”

“Need one more from you, noona,” he urges, staring up at you with desperation in his eyes, “I need one more from you and then I’ll give you my cock.”

The promise has you keening, his tongue working fucking magic on your clit, and your hands frantically find purchase anywhere they can hold on to. One hand grips Jungkook’s locks tightly, making him moan earnestly, and the other finds your nipple and you play with it voraciously. You can feel your second orgasm inching its way deliciously up your body, making your toes curl in anticipation. “Oh my god,” you pant, “Fuck!”

Jungkook ignores the sharp pain of your heel but relishes in the sting of his hair being pulled and the taste of you trumping all other sensations. He’s desperate for you to come. “Come on baby,” his words coax you gently, muffled by your pussy. “Come for me.”

You’re forced to do nothing but obey as the work of his tongue and the commanding tone in his voice brings you over the brink a second time. Your eyes roll back as your juices gush out and Jungkook laps it up like a man starved of hydration. Your grinding comes to a slow halt, releasing your grip on his hair, and when he feels that he’s had enough, Jungkook pulls away with gentle kisses marking your thigh. His chin glistens with your juices and you swear the image almost makes you come a third time. He drags your panties down your leg before slowly standing to his full height and wrapping your leg around his waist. He kisses you softly on the lips.

You’ve never been a fan of tasting yourself after you’ve come, but Jungkook loves the way you taste and loves kissing you, so you fall complacent to his touches. You whine when he grinds his hard cock against your bare centre and you see his eyes turn feral.

“Kook…”

“C’mon baby,” his sweet, velvet voice comforts you as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock from the confines of his pants. “Do you think you can take me, noona? Hm? I think you can…”

You’re absolutely exhausted but the promise of a third orgasm and Jungkook’s thick cock has you spreading your legs willingly.

“That’s a good girl…”

Bracing himself against the door with one hand and holding your body up with the other, he uses your juices to coat himself before sliding into you in one gentle thrust. You both moan at the contact.

“Oh god―fuck!”

“Christ, you’re so tight.”

“Kook...please move!”

At those words, he begins thrusting in and out of you, gently at first, and as your moans increase in volume, as does his pace. You’re oversensitive and tired but the feeling of his thickness dragging against your walls is too immensely pleasurable for you to ask him to stop. He’s breathing heavily into your ear and the feeling of your slickness mixed with sweat is driving you crazy. He whispers your name and you whimper in response.

“I want you to ride me. Can you ride me? Please?” His voice is deeper and needier.

Without words, you use all your strength to push him off, and when he sees the hungry look in your eye, Jungkook is quick to take off his shirt and his pants. You momentarily admire his tattoo sleeve before pouncing on him. You disregard the fact that the two of you are still in the entrance of your apartment as you line your wet centre with his pulsing member. It’s not like it’s the first time it has happened. Sliding down on his cock elicits a deliciously loud moan from your lips, harmonising with Jungkook’s deep growl.

With your hands on his firm chest, you find it easy to bounce up and down, setting the pace; sharp, quick, deep. You cry out when his tip hits a particular spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

The look on your face is pure pornography and Jungkook can’t get enough. Not happy being the only one naked, he tugs at your dress, bringing it up over your head and throwing it in an unseen direction. Next is your black lacy bra and Jungkook, with a proud smirk, unclasps it in record time with one hand. As soon as your chest is bare, his large hands have engulfed them and his fingers are twisting at your pert nipples.

The sight of you bare with nothing but your boots and choker is a memory he hopes to have for the rest of his life.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you throw your head back and grind down relentlessly on his cock. The pain from the oversensitivity melds into desperate pleasure as you rock back and forth.

“That’s it, noona.”

“You’re so perfect for me, you know that?”

“God, I love watching you ride me.”

“You are so fucking beautiful. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

His words are deep in your ears, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Jungkook can see how close you are and his thrusts upwards, matching your movements, to also bring him closer to his orgasm. With one hand occupied with your nipple, he brings the other one up and encloses it around your throat.

His grip is loose, but the knowledge that he could apply pressure at any given time makes you even wetter.

“I want you to come for me a third time, baby. Can you do that? For me?”

You nod, whimpering when you feel his thumb stroke your windpipe. His smile is dark and wanting.

“Good girl.”

Wanting to please him, you increase your movements; slamming down and then grinding against his pelvis. You are so, so, so tired but Jungkook’s thrusts continue to match yours, bringing you closer to the feeling you so desperately crave. Your pussy clenches around his cock and he grunts, the sound going straight to your core.

“Baby,” you whimper, digging your nails into his chest and leaving crescent-shaped marks, “I think I’m going to…”

“Are you going to come?” he asks.

You nod frantically.

“Good. Come.”

With the feeling of your clit dragging against his pelvis as he pistons in and out of you, his fingers playing with your nipples, and the slightly added pressure against your throat, you come hard with a ragged, choked cry; Jungkook’s name falling from your lips. Your eyes roll back as the orgasm takes over your body and you feel your wetness gushing out of you, soaking his thighs and making a mess on the apartment floor. Your body twitches, your pussy clenches, and yet your hips still rock against his.

Jungkook is in absolute awe of you as he gently removes his hand from your throat. His eyes struggle to find a solid place to rest as he etches your expression into memory, before dragging his gaze down to the wetness still gushing out and coating his cock. He has never seen anything hotter and he says just as much.

“Fucking look at you, noona,” his voice is thick with lust as his hands guide your hips back and forth. “You’re absolutely drenched and you’ve made such a mess.”

You whimper, pleading with Jungkook that you’re too sensitive to continue.

“I know baby,” he coos, his thrusts never ceasing. “I’m gonna come now, okay? I’m gonna come inside of you.”

You nod, too exhausted to reply, and allow Jungkook to use your body to his liking. Sweat dots your face as Jungkook increases his pace, and with a softest smile, he smashes his lips against yours and comes with a guttural moan. The feeling of him coating your insides spurs you into a surprising fourth orgasm, and you tremble in mild delight.

“Fuck―” Jungkook’s eyes closed as holds you close. “Baby, are you coming again?”

You nod tiredly, grinding down softly as to prolong the glorious feeling. Exhausted, you collapse on top of Jungkook, sighing when you feel your juices and his semen drip down your thighs. “Holy fuck…” you murmur.

The smell of sweat and sex linger the air; the smell of a good time.

Jungkook quietly laughs as he brings his arms around you. “You can say that again. How are you feeling? Did I push you too hard?”

His fingers stroke your bare back mindlessly, lulling you into a safe space of sleepiness. “No,” you answer softly. “But I do regret not taking this to the room because now we have to move and I just don’t have the energy.”

“Tired you out, did I?” His tone is cocky and if you had the energy, you would smack him.

“Something like that.”

Jungkook smiles lovingly at your fatigued form. “C’mon noona,” he cajoles tenderly, both of you wincing when he pulls you off of him and sluggishly removes your boots. “I’ll go run the shower and then we can snuggle into bed. How does that sound?”

You hum contently, your legs feeling like jello as you slowly stand before making your way to your ensuite bathroom. “I like the sound of that.”

fin.

―

a/n: hiya!

this one took a little bit longer for me to write and edit. i decided to write this as i was planning the sequel-not-sequel for my hobi fic i posted last week because i found that i was struggling with trying to write smut. i figured that an easier way to get me into the groove of writing smut again would be to just re-write one of my old smut fics. So here we are! i'm super nervous about it, but i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts.

i am currently working on the sequel to 'can we talk', as well as revamping (read: re-writing) some of my older fics, so i will do my absolute best to write those and try to get some consistency in my life.

thank you so much for reading my work. I'm always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or send me a message!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

#written by syubseokie #syubseokie fics #jungkook x reader #jealous jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fanfics #bts fics #bts scenarios #bts!au #bts fanfic #the reader isn't a hoe i promise #she just likes to have fun #established relationship

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syubseokie · 2 years

Text

never mind (m) | pjm

― pairing: fem!reader x jimin (park jimin) ― genre: light smut drabble, blink and you’ll miss it angst ― warnings: tattooed!jimin, sexual references, implied smut, heavy making out, handjob, blowjob ― summary: jimin’s hiding something and our reader wants to know what it is. OR the one where tattooed!jimin makes an appearance ― notes: heavily, HEAVILY inspired by this gif

∞

The hiss that comes out of Jimin's mouth when you run your fingers over his rib cage is painful and you pause your movements to look at him questioningly. "Are you okay?"

For just a moment, Jimin finds it kind of sweet that you can distinguish the noises he makes and their meaning. But when your fingers trace the tender skin where he was recently tattooed once more, he's quick to grab your hand and place gentle kisses on your finger tips in hopes to ignore the pain, murmuring a low "I'm good".

You don't believe him, but knowing how stubborn he can be, you let it go and bring his lips back to your own. His lips are soft and it's easy to melt back into the kiss as it slowly re-ignites your insides. You whimper when his fingers make their way under your dress and tenderly graze the skin of your thighs. Naturally, you respond to his touches by grabbing the hem of his white shirt to pull it over his head, but when he hisses again, you break apart and huff. "OK, what did you do?"

"Nothing," he responds far too quickly and you arch your brow disbelievingly. Knowing you can be just as stubborn when you want to be, Jimin sighs and slowly lifts his shirt, wincing when the material gently drags against the sensitive patch of skin.

You're confused at first, wondering why Jimin is showing you his torso though not necessarily complaining because you do enjoy him shirtless. "What am I loo— oh!" Your eyes are immediately drawn to the red that outlines the dark ink engraved on your boyfriend's skin covering his rib cage. NEVER MIND, it reads. Finally understanding the reason behind his pained noises, your fingers itch to trace the permanent words but the raised skin tells you that it is a freshly finished piece of art. You turn your gaze to him in curiosity and wonder. "When did you get this done, hun?"

"This morning," he replies as he quickly puts his shirt back on. "I, uh, went with Jungkook. He said the artist was having a flash deal or something."

You nod, not quite sure why getting a tattoo would be something he'd want to hide from you, considering you had a few pieces of your own that he's praised and fawned over in the past. "I like it."

His eyes snap to yours and he wears a shy smile. "You do?"

"Why wouldn't I? I mean, I give you props for getting your first tattoo in one of the most painful areas to receive one but it's also really nicely done and I think it suits you."

Jimin preens at the compliment. "I just wasn't sure if you'd like it because I know you really like Jungkook's sleeve and—"

"Wait," you frown, "did you get a tattoo only because I was admiring your friend's tattoos?"

Hearing said it out loud makes Jimin flush with embarrassment but he shakes his head. "N-no, definitely not. I've always wanted one but I will admit that I was feeling a little..."

"Jealous?" You offer half-jokingly.

"No, not jealous!"

You raise your brows as if to say 'yeah, sure'.

"Okay, maybe a little jealous." He admits. "You can't blame me though. The kid radiates hot-angsty-e-boy-gamer energy."

"Sure," you muse, "if you're into that kind of thing. But I don't know how that has anything to do with me or you."

Jimin shrugs and mindlessly rubs gentle circles into the meat of your thigh. "In hindsight, yeah, I know. But when I saw you admiring his tattoos, my mind went to this weird place where I thought that maybe you'd like me a little bit more if I got a tattoo."

If it were anyone else, you would have told them how silly that excuse sounded, but you know Jimin and that, sometimes, what he says isn't necessarily what he's trying to say.

"But then I realised how stupid that sounded because we both know my stroke game is why you're with me."

You can't help but laugh loudly, especially when he wiggles his eyebrows and grinds his clothed member against your covered core teasingly. You smack his shoulder playfully. "You're incorrigible."

"And you're the only person I know who uses words like 'incorrigible'." He jokes, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Maybe you should get that tattooed on you next time."

"Nah." Another kiss. "I'm thinking of getting something else."

"Oh?"

"Your name."

You chuckle against his lips. "Do it and I will seriously leave you so that you will have to get it covered or removed."

"Aww, why can't I get your name in a gothic font tattooed on my chest with love hearts? I think that's pretty romantic."

You roll your eyes at his teasing nature and kiss him again, softly. "Let's just stick with the one tattoo for now and wait for it to heal before you decide what you want to get next. Besides, we've got other things to worry about."

He raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Like?"

"Like..." You lift yourself up from his lap and kneel on the carpet in front of him. Knowing where this is going, Jimin excitedly hands you a cushion to place under your knees before sitting back and allowing you free reign. "So, because your skin is still sensitive, I'm not risking any friction at least until tomorrow. However," you gesture for him to remove his shirt completely before you work on unbuckling his jeans and removing his semi-hard cock from their clothed confines. "I'm really turned on right now because the fact that you got a tattoo is incredibly sexy and I want to suck your dick. Cool?"

Before he can even formulate a response, you take his thick member in your hands and pump it a few times. You patiently await his response, watching him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.

Inhaling deeply, Jimin manages to stutter a breathless "cool" before you smirk and engulf his now-hard cock in your mouth.

fin.

―

a/n: hiya!

in case you were wondering, no, I am not dead. just a lil burnt out from doing absolutely nothing, hah!

but I hope you enjoyed this lil drabble that is a product of procrastination and distraction! I saw this one gif at the start of November while lying in bed and instead of getting up to work on my taehyung wip, ‘never mind’ was written in the span of thirty minutes on my notes app lmao. I didn’t want to post it until I had finished my current wip, but because I am (finally) returning to work tomorrow/today (saturday), I decided to post it for all of you lovely people who may come across it. it hasn’t been edited or beta’d, so let me know if you find any mistakes.

speaking of work, I’m going to try to be more on top of my writing. I realised that when I first started writing and posting again, I was churning out work once a week, which I think led to my imminent burnout, followed by my two month break from posting anything new. not to say I haven’t been dedicating time to my writing, but I did find myself feeling more inspired with fic ideas but not being able to write anything. it happens, I know, but, I’m feeling really good and I am very excited about my upcoming work. currently, I am still working on my taehyung fic (eep!) so hopefully it will be ready to share before the end of the year!

regardless if you’re new or you’re familiar with my other pieces, i just want to thank you so much for reading my work. i am always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or send me a message!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

#written by syubseokie #syubseokie fics #jimin x reader #tattooed jimin #jimin fic #jimin x you #jimin drabble #jimin scenario #jimin smut #bts smut #bts drabble #bts fics #bts fanfics #bts scenarios #bts!au #bts au #established relationship #park jimin #park jimin fic

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syubseokie · 2 years

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only if you beg (drabble) | gojo satoru

― pairing: fem!reader x gojo satoru ― genre: mature ― warnings: sexual tension, slight knife play, gojo satoru is a warning himself ― summary: "are you going to make me stand with my back against the wall, blindfolded, with a cigarette in my mouth?" "only if you beg." OR the one where the sexual tension is so thick, you can cut it with a knife ― notes: prompted by this moment from the film 'still breathing (1997)'

∞

There is something in the way you stand, clad in all black and sharpening your knives that makes the appendage in Gojo Satoru’s pants stir just a little. He gives his students a weak excuse about needing to take a call before making his way over to you. His eyes rake over the tight leather pants that cling to your thighs, the black halter crop top that accentuates your chest, and up to where your piercing gaze finds his covered ones.

“Your eyes better be admiring the sharpness of my blade, Gojo,” you sing, returning your attention to the task at hand.

“Oh, they’re certainly admiring something.”

You laugh and place the sharpened tool down before picking up a blunt one. “Is there something you need? A chastity belt perhaps?”

Gojo grins at the jab as he stands closely behind you, his hands coming to rest on the curve of your hips. You can’t help the way your lips curl at his touch but you pretend to ignore him. “You wound me, angel,” he hums in your ear, the timbre of his voice low and teasing, knowing how much you hate the nickname, “you know, one of these days, you’re gonna let me hit this.”

Reflexively, you spin in his arms and swiftly bring the weapon in your hand up to his neck, knowing his infinity would stop any breach. “And one of these days, Satoru,” you sneer his name and his grin deepens, “I’m going to report you to Yaga for sexual misconduct. Or slice your throat. Whichever comes first.”

“Ooh knife play,” he coos, “kinky.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your weapons, ignoring the vanilla and sandalwood scent emanating from him. “Shouldn’t you be teaching?”

“I’m on a break.”

“Your lesson started less than ten minutes ago.”

“I got distracted.”

You hum noncommittally, “As riveting as this conversation is, unlike yourself, I have things I need to get done. So,” you pause your handiwork and remove his idle hands on your waist before facing him, “unless you’re asking to borrow something I most likely will not get back, I would very much appreciate it if you could, pretty please, fuck off.”

Laughter rings from his chest as he steps back and turns to where his students are pretending not to stare at the two of you. “One of these days, angel, one of these days.”

“Keep dreaming, Gojo.”

∞

The next time Gojo finds you, you’re sitting on a sofa with one leg over the other and your cursed daggers on the coffee table in front of you. He is impressed by your nimble fingers, the fluidity in your wrist, and your quick reflexes as you practise with one of the blades. There is no doubt as to why Maki is always eager to train with you.

You sense his strong presence immediately but remain unperturbed as you continue to twirl the dagger between your fingers. “What do you want, Gojo?”

Releasing a dramatic sigh, the snow-haired man collapses on the other end of the sofa and extends his long legs across your lap, which you immediately push off. He raises one side of his blindfold and sends you a flirtatious wink.

“You.”

He is unsurprised by the dagger whistling past his head, narrowly missing his ear, and lodging into the wooden door post behind him. You click your tongue with feigned disappointment before picking up another dagger and running your finger over its recently sharpened edge. Gojo chuckles, finding your insouciance that more appealing. An idea forms in your mind, and you uncross your legs before seductively leaning over his figure. You feel his penetrating stare through the black cloth that covers his azure orbs as you slink into the empty space between his long legs; a cheshire grin painting your lips. Your feline movements are slow, precise, and enticing, and before Gojo can even question your motives, he feels the tip of your blade drag over the material covering his leg and up his thigh. You note the absence of his infinity with piqued interest.

“Are you going to make me stand with my back against the wall, blindfolded, with a cigarette in my mouth?" he jokes.

You don’t miss the slight hitch in his breath when you undo his belt with your knife. With a coy smile and your fingers gently tracing the outline of his hard cock, you lean in next to his ear and whisper,

“Only if you beg.”

fin.

―

a/n: hey, hi, hello!

whew, my first anime drabble! did i write this on a whim because i’m experiencing fomo for PTD on stage? yes. do i have other wips that need my attention? also yes. but let’s just say that this was written because I have gojo satoru brain rot and I am currently reading an angsty gojo satoru x arranged marriage!au.

thank you so much for reading! reblogs + interactions are always appreciated. please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter | ko-fi

#written by syubseokie #syubseokie fics #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabble #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru has a big dick #this is my first anime fic and im nervous so pls be nice heh

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syubseokie · 3 years

Text

morning ride (m) | jhs

― pairing: fem!reader x hoseok (jung hoseok) ― genre: smut, non-idol!au, college!hoseok, one night stand au ― warnings: swearing, pwp, explicit sexual content, oral (f & m receiving), handjob, fingering, road head (pls do not actually give someone head while they are driving cus it is dangerous), outdoor car sex, excessive use of the pet name [redacted], praise kink, soft-dom!hoseok, protected sex (don’t be silly, wrap that willy kids!), multiple orgasms, slight exhibitionism, let me know if i forgot anything else ― summary: following the party where you and Hoseok meet, the two of you agree to grab breakfast at a nearby restaurant franchise. due to a maintenance issue, there is a thirty minute wait on your food so you agree to pass the time with some morning exercise OR the one where you give Hoseok road head and he repays the favour in an empty McDonald’s parking lot. ― notes: alternative ending to ‘can we talk’ | cross-posted on ao3

∞

Hoseok’s lips are soft against your own and you melt a little inside. His hand tenderly cups the back of your head and pulls you a little bit closer to him, the pressure of his kiss indicating that he wholeheartedly approves of your decision. You moan when he licks at the entrance of your mouth and you grant him access immediately, circling your arms around his shoulders and threading your fingers through his silky hair.

You had never understood the sentiment “the world seems to disappear around you” until you kissed Hoseok and your heart briefly aches at the memory of your ex and the fact that it was something you unknowingly failed to experience with them. And, although you know your choices up until this point have been a direct result of you wallowing in your heartache, you decide that now isn't the time to do so.

Especially when Hoseok’s fingers trace the nape of your neck and send shivers down your spine.

The fact is, you’re heartbroken, hungry, and horny; three adjectives that you know should not be the dictating source of your actions but ultimately are. Besides, you rationalise, isn’t this what the college experience is all about?

“Do you think―mmph―”

Hoseok is the first to pull away, albeit reluctantly, and the pout on your lips shows that you very much disagree with him doing so. He laughs at your expression, tenderly running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We should probably get in the car―”

You raise your brows suggestively.

“Not like that, you perv.” He mockingly scolds. “But I distinctly remember saying that we were going to get breakfast and then have uninterrupted car sex. If we keep standing here,” he gestures to the house where the party is still going on, “We will definitely be interrupted. Unless you’re into that kind of thing?”

You playfully shove him before opening the front passenger door. “Don’t lie, Hoseok. You just want a free meal.”

“And I was trying so hard to hide it,” he jokes, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Any particular place in mind?”

“I could be keen for a bacon and egg mcmuffin.”

“Really? McDonald’s?”

“What’s wrong with McDees?”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “You just won five hundred dollars and you want to eat McDonald’s?”

You shrug. “I’m a simple person. Money doesn’t phase me.”

“Or you’re just a tight ass,” he mumbles teasingly, putting on his seatbelt.

“My tight ass is something I am very proud of, thank you for noticing,” you reply, also securing your belt. “Though, I don’t know if I appreciate the sarcasm. I guess you’ll be paying for your own breakfast then?”

“You’re breaking my heart, Princess.”

Unlike the first time, the nickname sends a tingle straight to your core. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, hoping Hoseok doesn’t notice the way you’ve clenched your thighs together and the red tint flooding your cheeks. Unfortunately―or fortunately, you internally confess―he does notice and the chuckle that leaves his lips as he starts the car is dark and promising.

“Interesting.”

∞

The drive to McDonald’s seems to take far longer than your patience allows. But that can also be due to the fact that you’ve been playing with your hands in your lap since the drive began, in an attempt to distract yourself from Hoseok’s gaze as he drives. You are not sure how he does it ― focusing on the road but also glancing at you every so often with a hungry glint in his eye.

If you were to put your Poker winnings on it, you would bet that it isn’t food he’s hungry for.

However, the feeling is mutual. Despite the awkward twiddling of your thumbs, the thoughts that roam your mind are anything but innocent. Hoseok is so hot and the memory of his lips on yours is enough for the chemicals in your brain to send a signal to your throbbing core. The two of you have barely said anything, the low hum of a familiar reggae slow jam playing on the radio filling the silence, but the moment you lock eyes with Hoseok through your peripheral vision, you say to yourself “fuck it” and decide that the rest of the ride to the fast food restaurant does not have to be palpable with anticipated sexual tension.

“We’re going to play a game,” you announce with faux nonchalance and facing your body towards Hoseok. He arches an eyebrow, silently encouraging you to continue. “I’m going to suck your dick while you drive, and if you can hold off from coming until we pull into the drive-through, I’ll buy you breakfast elsewhere.”

“Is this a game or a proposition?” he laughs.

“To-may-to, to-muh-to.”

“Interesting…” he murmurs, eyes focused on the road. “I am one hundred percent into this, but what would be the point of us going to McDonald’s if I’m just going to win?”

You shrug, eyeing his denim-covered crotch hungrily. “Regardless of the outcome, I’ll get my mcmuffin and you’ll get road head. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Is uninterrupted car sex still on the table?”

“It never left.” Your hands inch over the centre console towards his thighs. Before you can put your hands where you want to most, Hoseok halts your movements with a gentle grasp of your wrist. You look at him questioningly.

“Are you sure?” His voice is soft and genuine. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

You’re touched by the concern laced in his tone and verbally reassure him of your willingness. His breathing hitches and his knuckles clench around the steering wheel when your fingers graze his lap and you can’t hide the smirk on your face. “So,” you lean in dangerously close to his ear and purposefully lower your voice to a sultry whisper as your hand runs over the prominent tent his pants, “What do you say, Jung? Wanna play?”

“Fuck―yeah, okay.”

Grinning wickedly, you undo his jeans and Hoseok sighs loudly in relief when you free him from the confines of his briefs. His cock is warm and velvety in your hands, and what he lacks in girth he makes up for in length. You swipe your thumb over the slit of the red, leaking tip and when you taste him on your tongue, you can’t help but rush to put your mouth on him.

The sound Hoseok makes in response is low, deep and drawn out as he puts his free hand on the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, slightly tugging, and you moan around his cock in satisfaction.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” he whines, forcing his eyes to focus on the road. Your mouth feels so good around him and he is thankful that there is no one else on the road because he is driving way below the normal speed limit. “Fuck you feel so good, Princess.”

You hum happily as your head bobs up and down around his cock, your tongue dragging along the shaft. Your hand pumps what your mouth cannot fit and your eyes water every time his tip hits the back of your throat. Having him in your mouth is such a pleasant feeling and you try to imagine how he would feel inside of you, the thought being enough to make your panties even wetter. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth and you use it to coat Hoseok’s cock with your hands. He tugs on your hair a little bit more and you moan again, the vibrations from your throat making him gasp.

“Baby,” he chokes, his eyes glancing between the road and the speedometer on his dashboard, “God, please don’t stop.”

You pull off with a ‘pop’, making him whine in frustration, and you take in your surroundings. “How far?”

“At the speed I’m going? Five minutes tops.”

“Think you can hold it?”

Hoseok catches his breath and eyes you with a raised brow. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

You smirk and put your mouth on him once more, adding more vigour and urgency to your moves. Your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, licking and slurping all you can to bring Hoseok closer to the edge. His hand returns to your head and the sting from his fingers pulling your hair only drives you more to make him come. He curses loudly, grunting your name and struggling to not thrust himself into your mouth.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure if he’s referring to the restaurant but you force him deeper into your mouth and swallow. The noise he makes is so fucking hot and it turns you on even more. You can feel him swelling inside of you and grin to yourself as you bob your head faster. He curses between clenched teeth, flicking on the indicator to turn, and in a final effort, you push yourself to take him fully in your mouth once more, gagging when he hits the back of your throat again, and swallow around him. Your eyes water and you struggle to breathe but the sound of him yelling “FUCK!” followed by the warm, salty liquid sliding down your throat somehow feels worth it. You want to smile, but instead, you concentrate on swallowing every drop of cum and licking him clean.

When you finally release him, he is staring at you in absolute awe and lust. You also note that you have pulled up outside of the McDonald’s drive-through.

“So,” you begin, wiping the corner of your mouth for any remainder of his spend, “I guess that means you lose, right?”

His eyes are wide and his breathing is heavy, and before you can say anything else, he pulls you in for a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping the crevices of your mouth and tasting himself. When he pulls away, the two of you are both breathless, your panties are soaked, and you note that he is semi-hard again.

“That,” he breathes, stroking your cheek gently, “was the hottest fucking thing I have ever experienced.”

You smile giddily and wait for him to tuck himself back into his pants before he proceeds to drive to the speaker.

∞

“Wh-who knew that―ohmygodohmygodohmygod―a twenty-four hour f-fast-food restaurant would―that feels so good―be closed at four-thirty in the morning for a s-scheduled maintenance clean―FUCK!”

According to the customer service rep at the drive-through window, they were still taking food orders, but there was a twenty to thirty minute wait on the food. Decidedly, you and Hoseok weren’t in any rush to eat, and being it that you won your little game in the car, Hoseok had no choice but to wait so you could get your mcmuffin.

Besides, there were plenty of ways you and Hoseok could pass the time in an empty parking lot. One of which included you lying on your back on top of the roof of Hoseok’s car with his head between your thighs, licking your clit and thrusting his fingers inside of you.

“Princess,” he purrs, bringing his head up with your juices glistening on his chin, “I know I said ‘try not to come’, but this isn’t exactly sexy talk for either of us.”

You pout. “But I don’t want to come.”

He smirks and drags the pad of his finger against your g-spot, and you arch your back with a sinful moan. “Are you sure?” You shake your head stubbornly, clenching your fists at your side, as you grind against Hoseok’s hand. “Because your body is responsive and it’s telling me that you want to come.”

“Want to come on your cock,” you mumble.

“What was that, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come on your cock,” you say a little louder with a pout. “Please?”

Hoseok smirks and bends down once more. “You will, Princess, you will. But first, I want you to come on my tongue.”

You cry out when his tongue makes contact with your clit again and you forcefully pull his hair as you grind your pussy against his face. His fingers are relentlessly thrusting in and out of you, a teaser as to what is to come, and you curse loudly when the combination of his tongue and fingers trigger a delicious feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your walls clench a little tighter, Hoseok smirks devilishly when they do, and your juices flow even more when you feel your climax building.

“Hoseok, I’m gonna―”

“Come, Princess.”

Your climax is explosive and heavenly all at the same time as you coat Hoseok’s tongue with your essence. Your toes and fingers curl as your orgasm courses through your body like a rush of adrenaline, leaving you panting heavily as sweat dots your forehead and pools at the nape of your neck. The feeling is prolonged with each swipe against your clit and every thrust of his fingers inside of you. The feeling is oh so deliriously glorious, but soon the pleasure collects into over-sensitivity, and you tap Hoseok’s head in surrender.

“Too much,” you stutter helplessly, wincing when he finally yields and withdraws his fingers from your soaking core. Wetness spills out onto the car and Hoseok watches in a trance.

“So fucking sexy,” he whispers before bringing his fingers to his mouth and noisily sucks on them. You’re embarrassed at the show he puts on but the look on his face tells you he isn’t finished with you. “Inside the car. Now.”

Sluggishly, with a hint of clumsiness, you manage to haul yourself off the roof of the car, ignoring the wet puddle you leave behind, and slide after Hoseok into the backseat. The moment you close the door, Hoseok is pulling you on to his lap and crashing his lips against yours. The act of tasting yourself has never been something you have personally indulged in, but you ignore the tangy taste of you on Hoseok’s tongue and focus on taking his clothes off. With his upper body bare, you pull back and rake your gaze over his lean muscles, appreciating his fit figure.

Not one to be outdone, Hoseok peels off your clothes and licks his lips seductively when he takes in the nude-coloured bra covering your chest. Self-conscious, you bring your arms to cover your chest, but he is quick to grab your arms and lace your fingers.

“Is this okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft, and you can’t help but giggle at the juxtaposition of events. “What’s so funny?” he asks, smiling.

“Nothing,” you reply. “I’m just laughing because not even two minutes ago you were telling me to come on your tongue, and now we’re sitting in your car, half-naked, and you’re asking me if this is okay.”

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, Princess.”

You duck your head shyly. “So you’ve shown me.”

“Well,” Hoseok releases one of your hands and brings your gaze back to him with a gentle hand on your chin, “Let me show you just how much more of a gentleman I can be, hm?”

“Okay.”

Undoing his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, Hoseok retrieves a gold foil packet from behind the driver’s seat pocket, tears it open, and expertly rolls the condom on before pulling you back onto his lap. Pulling your drenched underwear to the side, he guides you over his cock, coating his tip with your juices, then slowly slides you down onto him. The two of you groan at the contact, the burn deliciously igniting you inside, and when you’re fully seated in his lap, he sends you a dangerous smirk that has your walls clenching around him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Princess. You’re going to come on my cock twice before I finish, okay?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Two mind-blowing orgasms?”

“How gentlemanly of you.” you deadpan.

“What can I say, babe,” he thrusts up sharply, and you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your scream. “Ladies first.”

You find purchase on the top of the backseat as Hoseok pistons his cock in and out of you, his hands holding your hips. Erotic noises escape your lips when you roll your hips against his own. You’re a panting, moaning, wanton of a mess and Hoseok has never seen anything hotter.

“Christ, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Princess,” he sighs as he watches his cock disappear in and out of you, “Maybe I should start calling you ‘goddess’ instead because the sight and feeling of you bouncing up and down on my cock is nothing if not a religious fucking experience.”

You try to chuckle at the pun but the sound becomes a sharp whine when your clit grazes against his pelvis. Nonetheless, his words ignite a fiery burning of want and need to make sure that this is the best fuck of his life. Invigorated, you tell Hoseok to stay still before sliding off his hard member, discarding your underwear, and then with your back to his chest, you climb back on to his lap and use your hand to guide him back into you. Your juices make it easy to slide on, and the groan he releases mixed with squelching of your pussy when his cock drags against your inner walls is loud, making you grin widely. You ignore the burn in your thighs and use his knees as leverage as you rise and sink down on him. You hear him curse before you feel his hand on the clasp of your bra.

“Can I?”

You’re nodding, wanting to feel his long fingers around your hardened nipples desperately, and before you know it, he has undone the clip and you’re sliding your arms out of the straps and depositing the garment next to him. One arm comes to your chest and the other slides down towards your clit, and when both his hands make contact with their predetermined destinations, you gasp aloud and catch yourself before you fall forward.

“Hoseok―oh god!”

You tremble in his arms, willing yourself to keep moving your hips up and down but the feeling he creates with his fingers playing with your nipples and clit in tandem is so distracting and before you know it, your second orgasm is crashing over you in waves of euphoria.

“That’s it, Princess,” he coaxes huskily, still rubbing at your clit, “Soak my cock with your juices. Fuck―you feel so fucking good. Keep riding me like that, baby, it feels so fucking good.”

You whimper at the oversensitivity but obey, slowly riding out your high. When he feels you begin to sag forward, Hoseok gently removes his fingers from between your legs and lifts your body like you weigh nothing. He tells you to put your knees on the seat and lean on the centre console before bringing your ass up and slowly sliding back into you. You hiss at the slight stretch, a stuttered cry in your throat. He murmurs sweet words ― praising you for how well you listen, how pliant your body is in his hands, how good you feel ― with his hand resting on your lower back as he guides your lethargic form back and forth. You allow yourself to sink into the feeling of being used in this way, noting the exhaustion and relief is the most relaxed you have felt in months.

Steadily, Hoseok’s pace increases as does your breathing. You sob when he hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure and you feel the sure-tell signs of an incoming orgasm. Your walls clench around his cock once more and Hoseok smirks.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? Come for me one more time before I do?”

You nod fervently.

“Fuck yeah, come for me, Princess. You’re so fucking good for me, I know you can give me one more.”

His pace quickens and you bring your fingers to collect your dripping juices before softly rubbing at your bundle of nerves.

You are so fucking sensitive, but you want to come ― need to come.

“Yes, baby, touch yourself. Make yourself come. Please.”

The hitch in his voice and the stutter in his hips tell you that he is just waiting for you, ready to let go, and with only a few more circles around your clit mixed with the pounding of his cock, you come again; your walls squeezing him and triggering his release.

“Oh―FUCK!”

The curse word is drawn out in a long, salacious moan and his fingers grip your hips so tightly against his own that you hope they leave marks. Your orgasm is not as explosive as the first two, but it still courses through your veins and you are exhausted and satiated all the same. Your body slumps, sticky with sweat, and you pant heavily. You feel Hoseok softening inside of you and as he slowly pulls out, you ungracefully collapse against the backseat.

“That was―” you inhale deeply and close your eyes with a dreamy smile, “fucking incredible.”

You hear Hoseok laugh and open one eye to see him tying his condom and discarding it in a food wrapper. He reaches over into the glovebox compartment and pulls out a packet of baby wipes before turning to you. “Is it okay if I…” your eyes drift between his gaze on you and the wipes and nod. His hands are tender when he cleans you and you avert your gaze, noticing the car windows have fogged up.

“Looks like we pulled a Titanic,” you joke, pointing at the windows when Hoseok looks up.

“At least there’s no handprints on the window.”

The two of you laugh but are quickly interrupted by the sound of soft tapping on the driver window. You share a look of mild horror and quickly rush to put your clothes on. You note that your underwear are ruined, and with a knowing smirk, Hoseok swipes them from your hands and stuffs them in his pocket.

“No point in keeping them if you can’t wear them.”

You debate arguing the use of a washing machine, but remembering that someone is standing outside the car and you’re pretty sure knows what the two of you are doing ― or have done ― you decide that losing one pair of underwear will be less mortifying than what is about to transpire and climb into the front passenger seat next to Hoseok. With a final once-over to make sure you are decently dressed, your male companion clears his throat and winds the window down to see an employee holding your order with a bored expression.

Hoseok lights up in recognition and greets them with a cheerful “Hey Yoongi!” that makes you stare at him in bewilderment.

“You know him?”

“Of course! He’s my flatmate.”

You’re mortified at Hoseok’s unperturbed reaction.

The employee, Yoongi, rolls his eyes and thrusts the food towards Hoseok. “One bacon and egg mcmuffin combo, one hotcake combo, one hotcake on its own and an extra hash brown with two coffees?”

“Thanks, Yoongles. Did you throw in extra butter?”

The blond male snorts. “Fuck off. You have sex in the parking lot of where I work and you expect me to give you extra condiments?”

“To be fair,” Hoseok argues as he hands you the drinks, “I wanted breakfast at the diner down the road.”

“And yet here you are.”

Your cheeks are flushed an embarrassing red and you sink down into the seat. “Oh my god…”

Before Hoseok can reply, Yoongi walks away but not before throwing a “don’t forget I finish at six!” over his shoulder. The brunet male, however, is not paying attention as he begins to unpack the bag of food.

You shake your head incredulously. “We just had sex in your flatmate’s workplace parking lot.” You can’t find it in yourself to be mad when he hands you your food with a heart-shaped smile.

“Yoongi’s not bothered by it. The amount of times I’ve walked through the front door to the sound of him getting his dick sucked outweighs this one incident.”

“So...you’ve never done this before?” you internally cringe at how meek your voice sounds and take a bite of your mcmuffin.

Hoseok looks at you from the corner of his eye. “No, I haven’t.” The silence that follows is not awkward while the two of you eat, but he can see the gears turning in your mind. “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you my flatmate works here?”

You ponder his question for a moment, but you shake your head in response. “Not really. A little embarrassed, sure, but I guess it just adds to the ambience of this whole night. Makes for a good story to tell Taehyung later.”

You share a laugh and the rest of your meal is consumed with story-swapping and learning more about each other. When you both finish, Hoseok pulls out of the parking lot and you give him directions back to your place. The atmosphere during the ride back is comfortable and filled with idle chat mixed with the low hum of the radio, and when his car pulls up to your residence, the morning sun is starting to come up in the horizon. You see Taehyung’s car parked up and you internally sigh in relief that your friend is home safely.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Hoseok,” you say, undoing your belt.

“Thank you for hanging out with me tonight,” he replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows, making you laugh. “It was fun.”

“Definitely.” You climb out of the car, readjusting your clothes and remember that you’re not wearing underwear. Just as you are about to walk away from the car, Hoseok calls your name, and you look back.

“I don’t even know if people still give out their numbers anymore,” he begins, looking unsure of himself, “but would it be alright if I grabbed yours? Or some form of contact? Could even be a social media handle, it doesn’t really bother me. I would just really like to see you again. And I know that you’re still obviously processing a lot of things, but even if it means that we can just hang out like we’ve done tonight ― sex or not, if that’s what you’re okay with ― I think that would be cool.”

At this point, you know he’s rambling nervously.

“Plus, I have your underwear which, now that I say out loud, sounds kind of creepy and if it bothers you, I’ll give it back to you.”

“Give me your phone, Hoseok.”

A smile breaks out onto his handsome face and you melt a little inside. He hands you his cellphone and you do the rounds of putting your contact in his phone and then finding your social media account to follow yourself from his account. You pass his phone back and with a final wave paired with a “text me”, you turn and make your way inside. By the time you have settled in your room, after leaving a glass of water and two ibuprofen tablets next to a passed out Taehyung on the couch and then showering, there is a text notification from an unknown number on your phone.

Hey, it’s Hoseok. It was really nice to meet you.

fin.

―

a/n: hiya!

the alternative ending is here! i have to say, this took a little bit longer to write due to a minor writing block and then trying to figure out how to write smut again ― hence my re-written edition of ‘jealous’ ― and then i got sick and had to give my body a few days to recover. all in all, i am really happy with this piece, considering it’s the first original piece i have written and finished in about a year and a half. writing smut is still a bit of a writing stretch for me but so far, i am enjoying the challenge. with that being said, i am still nervous to publish this, as i am with all my writing.

in terms of future work, i do have a few wips i am planning, some of which include re-written pieces of previous work and plans for a short series which i am excited about working on! if you would like to see what i have coming soon, feel free to check out my wips here.

thank you so much for reading my work. I’m always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or send me a message!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

#written by syubseokie #syubseokie fics #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jung hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts au #bts smut #college hoseok au #non-idol bts au #one night stand bts au #hoseok scenarios #jhope fic #hoseok fic #jung hoseok x you #jhope x you #bts fics #bts scenarios #bts fanfic

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syubseokie · 3 years

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can we talk (m) | jhs

― pairing: fem!reader x hoseok (jung hoseok) ― genre: college!au, romance, angst (very light) ― warnings: swearing, alcohol, light angst, sexual references, slight mention of depression and anxiety ― summary: reader is dragged to a house party by her best friend, taehyung. although she would rather be in bed re-watching sad rom-coms, our reader finds herself enjoying the company of a boy wearing a princess' tiara OR the one where hoseok is bad at flirting but still kinda sexy though ― notes: this is a re-written version of my 2017 work ‘For a Minute’ that can be found here. loosely inspired by tevin campbell’s ‘can we talk’ (1993) | cross-posted from ao3

∞

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Your eyes flicker towards the person standing in the entrance to your room and then back to your laptop screen. You can hear Taehyung's nostrils flare in irritation before he storms over to your bedside.

Usually, you would be standing in attention, ready to face the wrath of your best friend because you knew it was easier than ignoring him, but tonight, you just weren’t in the fucking mood.

“Why are you not ready yet?” he asks, foregoing niceties.

Despite your sour mood, you don’t blame Taehyung for being frustrated. Afterall, you had ﹣ reluctantly ﹣ agreed to go out with him tonight. It didn’t mean you couldn’t drag your feet though.

“I don’t feel like leaving the house.” you say noncommittally.

“Don’t care.” Taehyung snipes as he opens your closet door and rummages through your clothes. “It’s been almost two months. You need to get out of the house.”

“I think I still need time to reflect...” you object weakly, pausing the video sitting up against the headboard on your bed.

Your friend briefly pauses and throws you an incredulous look. “The only thing reflecting is the image of Lee Min Ho’s shower scene from ‘Boys over Flowers’ in your eyes. Stop making excuses, get your ass up, and jump in that shower before I donate all your plushies to the local op-shop.”

You narrow your eyes and challenge darkly, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Huffing in annoyance, you make a show of getting out of bed ﹣ finding it in yourself to feel a little embarrassed when snack wrappers tumble onto the floor and remind you of just how terrible the last month has been ﹣ before dragging yourself towards the bathroom, muttering curses aimed at the brunette still digging through your closet.

∞

Scratching your arm nervously, you take note of your surroundings. Drunk university students are backed up to the walls of the hosting party house, slurring their alcohol-filled plastic cups while moving their bodies to the beat of the music pulsating from the large speakers situated in the corners of the living room and kitchen.

“I seriously do not want to be – OW!”

You glare at Taehyung who mimics your expression. “Cut that shit out!” he warns before shoving a red cup into your hand. “Drink.��

Your nose wrinkles in disgust at the questionable beverage and you ask, “Is this even safe?”

“It’s not worth drinking if it isn’t,” he retorts then clinks his cup against yours. “Bottoms up, bitch!”

Knowing your pain-in-the-ass-but-means-well best friend would force the liquid down your throat if you didn’t do it first, you swallow the drink. Immediately, you cringe at the horrid alcohol to mixer ratio, regretting everything in that moment. “Holy fuck, I think I just died drinking that.”

Taehyung cackles loudly, grabs two more cups from a nearby drink table and hands you one. “A toast,” he announces, raising his cup. “For the past two years, I have watched you smile, laugh, cry, worry, get angry and fall in love with an obnoxious, conceited, selfish bastard who failed to see what an amazing person you are. Thankfully, you’re a single woman which means I can look forward to our crazy adventures.” He looks at you pointedly and adds, “You neglected me, bitch.”

There is a half-hearted smile laced with guilt on your lips.

Although you know there is no malicious intent in his words, Taehyung was right ﹣ you had neglected him and many of your other former friends for a toxic relationship that was bound to end miserably. The time you spent holed up in your room post-breakup was filled with anguish because your heart had been broken by someone you thought had loved you, and guilt because in an effort to keep your relationship together, you had severed ties with people who were only trying to be your friend.

You were angry, heartbroken, embarrassed, and lost. Your anxiety and depression had gotten the better of you and would not allow you to reach out for support. Yet, had it not been for the very person standing next to you seeing your ex with someone that wasn’t you, prompting him to barge into your living space one day and declaring they were making camp in your spare room until he deemed you were no longer a hazard to yourself...well, you prefer to not think about the ‘what ifs’.

The warm smile on Taehyung’s face brings you back to the present and you voluntarily loop your arm between his and lean on his shoulder.

“You’re my day one,” he boasts proudly, right before planting a wet, sloppy kiss on your cheek then grinning cheesily. “So tonight, in honour of our friendship, I declare that we get absolutely, positively, thoroughly fucked.”

∞

“WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNERRRRR!”

You throw your winning cards on the wooden table and a chorus of cheers and curses commence. You grin triumphantly as you collect your winnings of five hundred dollars cash plus a fully stamped Starbucks coffee card. You conclude that despite the copious amount of alcohol you had consumed in the last hour and a half, your poker face remains unbeatable.

One of the players, Namjoon, throws his cards in frustration. “I swear to God she’s cheating.”

“No one likes a sore loser, mate.” The other players around the table grumble in unison but you pay them no mind as you stuff your winnings into your bra. “Kim Taehyung! Where are you? I’m shouting breakfast in the morning!” You scan the room you’re in for any sign of your chaperone but purse your lips when you don’t see him. “That bitch better not have left me here.”

“I’m down for some free breakfast,” someone who isn’t Taehyung chimes.

You turn and find the unfamiliar voice belonging to a guy with chestnut coloured hair and dark brown eyes wearing a light-washed unbuttoned long sleeve over a plain white undershirt, black denims with rips at the knees, and a pair of worn black converse standing next to you. On top of his head sits a plastic silver tiara with pink and green jewels. His eyes are filled with keen interest and his lips are curved into a dangerously sexy smirk.

A teasing smile graces your lips. “You’re not Kim Taehyung,” you reply coyly, “But if you let me wear that tiara on your head, we can pretend you are.”

At that moment, you are grateful for the liquid courage swimming through your veins because you are one hundred percent confident that the handsome stranger who slides his arm around your waist and pulls you in so he can lean down to speak into your ear is wanting a little more than breakfast.

“Princess, I can pretend to be anyone you want me to be.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh at the cheesy line even though the deep timber in his voice shoots straight to your core. “That was terrible!” you remark with a playful nudge in his side.

A shade of crimson tints the stranger’s cheeks and you find his sudden flustered persona endearing. “You’re right,” he concurs, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. “Thought I’d try it. Didn’t work. Maybe next time.”

Your laughter dissolves into a quiet chuckle. “You’re cute,” you tease. Removing his arm from around your waist, you take a step back and offer him your hand, introducing yourself.

He removes the crown from his head and places it on your own before taking your hand.

“I’m Hoseok. Nice to meet you.”

∞

You and Hoseok have been sitting outside on the lawn nursing a glass of orange juice for two hours, the silver crown next to you long-forgotten, your laughter floating into the four a.m. sky. The cool air has since sobered up your senses and the two of you have been swapping stories and making connections through mutual friends; realising you actually share a lot in common. The conversation is easy and flowing.

This is the most light-hearted you have felt in a long time.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Hoseok begins after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “did you come with anyone tonight? You don’t look like the kind of person who would rock up to a house party just to kick a few asses at Poker.”

You respond with a light chuckle, “Nah, I didn’t come alone.”

“Boyfriend?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the pang in your chest.

“Girlfriend?”

“Best friend,” you answer, “though, I’m considering advertising the title as vacant seeing as he left to get us drinks but never came back.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About,” you glance at the time on your phone, “three hours ago.”

Hoseok snickers. “Hate to break it to you, but I think your friend has probably ditched you.”

You sigh dramatically and fall back onto the grass. The early morning dew seeps into your clothes but it is a cooling sensation on your warm skin as you stare up at the dark sky. You are aware of Hoseok’s close proximity as he copies your position paired with a loud exhale. The air is so crisp that you see his breath disappear upwards so you also release a breath cloud from your mouth. Your companion laughs, mimicking your actions, and the two of you giggle and blow warm air clouds for the next few moments.

It’s childish and pointless, but the simple act is one that fills your lungs and heart with pure elation.

“So,” Hoseok says after you both calm down. “Your best friend ditches you at a house party. That sucks.”

“He means well,” you defend, “It was his idea to come in the first place, and so even though I’ll probably yell at him later for ditching me, I’m glad he’s having fun. He deserves it.”

Hoseok looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Why do you say that?”

“Not to be depressing, but this is probably the longest I’ve gone without bursting into tears and I’m pretty sure Tae just needed to be around something different but still keep me near.” You notice Hoseok’s puzzling gaze and you shrug, feigning nonchalance. “The last month and a bit has been really hard. But, according to every coming-of-age film for people our age, part of the healing process is getting drunk at some party.”

“Healing process?”

You hum noncommittally.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Your companion is quiet for a few seconds. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft but is void of pity or curiosity.

You’re grateful.

“Not yet,” you exhale, “But I will be. Thank you.”

You turn and offer Hoseok a grateful smile but find him looking at you with a comforting smile of his own. Feeling brave, your hand slowly inches towards his own until you feel a light zap when your pinky touches his. Before you can think of what to do next, Hoseok, with his gaze unwavering, curls his pinky around yours.

There is another jolt that reverberates from your heart down to the place between your legs. You tell yourself that it’s a result of a lack of physical touch and not because you find the male in front of you extremely attractive.

The two of you stare at each other for what seems like hours. The outside lights cast a hazy glow over Hoseok’s features and you etch every single detail of his face you can see into memory ﹣ the curve and fullness of his lips; the depth and richness in the colour of his eyes; the sharp contours of his nose, jaw and cheek bone; the smooth yet texturised planes of his skin.

His eyes quickly dart to your lips and suddenly you are hyper aware of just how close the two of you are. The scent of vanilla and grass overwhelms your senses and his warm breath delicately fans your face; a stark contrast to the wet feeling pressed against your cheek. He

slowly brings his gaze back to yours, silently asking the question that seems to be louder than the music from inside. His eyes are patient and unhurried. You know what he wants to do but will not move unless you move first.

You are nervous, uncertain, and yet oh so willing ﹣

“Oh my god, just kiss her already!”

“For fuck’s sake, Jimin!”

“Jimin?” Hoseok asks. He pulls his gaze away from yours and looks up, squinting.

And just like that, the spell is broken and your confidence recedes into itself. You’re almost surprised to see Taehyung standing next to your head and looking down at you with an apologetic expression. Sorry, he mouths. You give a small shake of your head, your cheeks flushed with mild embarrassment.

Jimin, you conclude, is grinning drunkenly and kneels down and puts his face close to your companions, singing, “Hobi, Hobi, Hobi!”

His breath reeks of alcohol and you are grateful that he isn’t breathing in your direction. “Jesus christ, Park,” Hoseok gags, “Why does it smell like something died in your mouth?” He uses his free hand to push Jimin back from the two of you.

You realise his pinky is still intertwined with your own and your stomach flutters.

“That,” Jimin announces loudly, “is the smell of a good time.”

Taehyung snorts, crossing his arms, and you raise an inquisitive brow. “And just where the hell have you been? You were supposed to get us drinks and never came back.”

Your friend has the decency to look embarrassed before gesturing towards Jimin. “We found each other in the kitchen.”

“That’s right,” Hoseok nods, as if remembering something important, and glares at his friend. “Weren’t you supposed to be looking for something to eat?”

Taehyung grins wickedly and sends Jimin a wink. “Oh, he did.”

You and Hoseok share a disgusted look before standing up. There is a lack of warmth you crave when he unhooks his finger from yours, but the feeling is replaced when he takes his hands in yours and gently pulls you to his side.

“You’re both gross,” he says with a smirk, “but it’s a good thing you found us ‘cuz we’re leaving.”

“You are?”

“We are?”

You eye Hoseok curiously and he throws you a playful smirk that makes your insides throb.

“My new friend here promised me breakfast at the diner down the road﹣”

You snort.

“﹣and then we’re gonna have uninterrupted car sex in the diner car park.”

You choke and Taehyung guffaws uproariously.

You have no time to recover or protest before Hoseok is pulling you back into the house. You barely register Jimin yelling to use protection and your best friend reminding you to bring her takeaways as Hoseok drags you through the crowded house, out the front door, up the driveway, and across the road to where a black car is parked up. Hoseok has already unlocked the car, but before he opens the door, he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, one hand on the door handle and the other still holding on to your hand. “Is this okay?”

Feeling like a character in a wattpad fanfiction, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding and allow your brain to catch up with the last thirty seconds. Your cheeks flush when you remember Hoseok’s bold statement about the diner’s parking lot and you admit to yourself that it has been a while. The logical, rational part of your brain tells you to call yourself an uber and go home. Nothing good ever happens after two a.m. anyway.

But the other part of you ﹣ the part that craves adventure, freedom, and, yeah, maybe a little bit of sex ﹣ wills you to get into the car with the guy who looks like he belongs in one of those Korean idol groups.

It is a frightening debate and you can feel the anxiety crawling under your skin in the most uncomfortable of ways.

When you finally find the courage to look at Hoseok, he is looking back at you with that same patient and unhurried expression he wore no less than five minutes ago.

At that moment, you make your decision.

“Can I borrow your phone for a quick second?”

Puzzled by your request, Hoseok unlocks his phone and hands it over. Summoning every bit of courage you can muster, you open his camera app, change it to self-mode, hold the device up so that you’re both in the frame, and without giving yourself time to second-guess your decisions up until that point, you place your lips on Hoseok’s cheek and take the photo. From there you find his Instagram app, search for your username, hit the ‘Follow’ button, and then send the photo you had just taken via messenger. Once delivered, you slide the device back into Hoseok’s hand, finally facing him.

“Before you get the wrong idea,” your voice is soft, “I...I want you to know that tonight, just hanging out with you, has been the happiest I have been in a very long time.”

You take a deep breath and Hoseok sends you an encouraging smile.

“I just got out of a long-term relationship that was very toxic and had changed a lot about me that I didn’t even realise had changed. I have spent the last month and a half struggling with my mental health and it has been exhausting. Tonight was the first time I actually left my house and it was fucking hard. But I’m glad I did. I’m glad because I got to meet you.”

“And not because you won five hundred dollars,” Hoseok jokes and you laugh, a little relieved with his reaction.

“That was a bonus,” you answer with an affectionate grin. There is a quiet moment for you to collect your thoughts, and you continue, “I like you, Hoseok, and as much as I really want to get into this car with you, I don’t think it’s fair if I do.”

“Fair on who?” he asks gently.

“On both of us. I’m a bit of a mess right now, and it’s not fair on myself if I don’t give myself time and space to deal with my shit, nor is it fair on you if I come into your space the way I am. In the few hours we spent just talking and laughing, you have shown how fucking cool you are, and you’re obviously attracted to me as I am to you if your statement from back at the house is anything to go by,” Hoseok grins at the statement, “but I don’t want to start hanging out with you because I’m lonely and looking for a space to be filled. We both deserve better than that.”

It is silent and you try to gauge Hoseok’s reaction. His face gives nothing away and you hope that you haven’t fucked it up.

“I understand,” he says finally, his voice cutting through your thoughts. He grabs your hand, his touch soft and warm, and you fight the urge to bring his palm to your cheek. “I think, if I was in your position, I would want the same.”

You sigh in relief. “Rain check on breakfast?”

Hoseok’s smile is bright and beautiful and fills you with warmth that reverberates in your chest. Still holding your hand, he leans down and places a light kiss on your cheek, leaving pink in its wake. “Your shout.”

fin.

―

a/n: my first fic officially posted!

thank you so much for reading my work. if you enjoyed this piece, please feel free to like/reblog. thoughts and feedback are also greatly appreciated so i can improve. for those who are interested, i have started writing a second part to this story — or rather, an alternative ending where our reader and hoseok actually have breakfast and some good 'ol car sex (maybe not in that particular order). if you'd like to read this, let me know!

until my next post ♡

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ao3 | twitter

#syubseokie fics #bts fanfic #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts!au #hoseok sucks at flirting but is still hella sexy tho #kim taehyung as the supportive yet questionable best friend #drunk jimin is affectionate and a lil sloppy #written by syubseokie

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syubseokie · 3 years

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three strikes (drabble) | knj

― pairing: fem!reader x namjoon (kim namjoon) ― genre: fluff, drabble ― warnings: none really. does 2015 namjoon’s infatuation with red converse high tops count? LOL ― summary: namjoon had been lost in his own world when he tripped on an uneven path and landed in front of a pair of red converse highs. strike one. OR the one where namjoon meets his 2015 ideal type in 2021. ― notes: this is an edited version of my 2015 drabble ‘three strikes’.

∞

Kim Namjoon was a romantic. In fact, he often talked about his ideal type; someone tall with a nice voice and could rock a white shirt, jeans and a pair of red high top Converse ― the last part being more important than the rest. So, when he tripped and fell head over Converse for you, he believed it be fate.

∞

Namjoon was lost in his own world when he, in true Namjoon-fashion, tripped mid-walk, taking an accidental tumble, and landed in front of your scuffed red Converse high tops. He all-too-quickly pushed himself up from the pavement, accidentally head-butting you as you bent down to help him, and when he heard the pained “Ow, fuck!” fall from your lips, followed by the sound of your drink splattering to the ground, he wished he had tripped and cracked open his head instead.

God of Destruction, he thought with dismay, awkwardly getting to his feet.

When he had gathered his bearings, he looked over and saw you half-lying on the pavement, rubbing your chin and frowning at the concrete where the remaining contents of your drink lay wasted. His gaze travelled over those damned red shoes, your blue acid wash jeans and baggy white shirt, to your face, and when his eyes locked with yours, his breath hitched in his throat.

Strike one.

∞

What followed after were numerous apologies and questions regarding your minor injury. Namjoon swore he must have cracked open his head, died, and went to heaven when you spoke to him. Your voice was so clear and soft that it made him want to wrap himself in cotton sheets and roll around in a grassy meadow. So far, you had managed to tick all the boxes of what he would call his ‘Miss Right’ in less than thirty seconds, and Namjoon was more than a little desperate to know your name and more.

“I’m really sorry for knocking your chin,” he mumbled shyly while nervously scratching the back of his head. “And for spilling your coffee. Is it alright if I buy you another one?”

You checked your watch, unsure, but your eyes widened when you realised the time. “I can’t do it right now” you apologised and Namjoon’s face fell a little, “I’m actually late for an appointment, but if it’s okay with you, I can give you my number so we can arrange something?”

The male was momentarily stunned until he realised your hand was outstretched, patiently waiting for him to give his phone. In a daze, he unlocked his device and waited as you put your details in. When you handed his phone back, you offered him a shy, nervous smile. “I have to go but text me. I’d really like to get coffee.”

Before he could respond, you hurried off. It took him a few moments to register what had just transpired, but when he glanced down at his phone and saw your name and number in his contact list, there was a blossoming feeling in his chest. He whispered your name aloud, secretly loving the way it sounded rolling off his tongue. Raising his gaze in the direction you had gone, he was shocked to see you standing on the corner of the street staring back at him with a shy smile on your face as you waved your phone.

Strike two.

∞

[unknown] 15:23

hey, this is kim namjoon, we met earlier today after i almost took us both out on the footpath. hopefully this number isn’t a fake as i was hoping i could buy you another coffee for accidentally destroying the one you had today. sorry about that again, btw. let me know :)

15:25

ngl i was starting to think you weren’t going to text and i’d have to internet stalk you and remind you that you owe me a coffee. im free tomorrow at 1pm. meet you at the place we first met?

What followed were morning coffee meetups, random walks in the park, and midnight food runs. Namjoon learned you were a second year university student, so the university library was also added to the list of places the two of you frequented. He also discovered that you had spent time overseas, could speak four languages, and although you preferred R&B music, you loved to sing classic eighties and nineties rock.

The more time you spent together, the more Namjoon found himself falling deeper and deeper. Everything about you was interesting and it made him childishly giddy when you had shown an interest in his passion for writing and music.

It had happened one night when the two of you were sitting in one of the study rooms at the university library eating pizza. You were working on a presentation assignment while Namjoon was seated next to you, using your campus wifi and occasionally scribbling some words down in a notebook. You noticed that he took this particular notebook everywhere with him and you were curious about its purpose. After sneaking a peek at what he was writing and pestering him about what the words meant, Namjoon admitted that he enjoyed writing songs and hoped to one day perform them. His shy confession melted your heart and you felt pride and special that he felt comfortable enough to share that piece of information with you.

“You’re different from most guys I know.”

Namjoon’s expression was confused by your comment. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, biting into another slice of pizza. “You’re insightful and you have your head screwed on the right way. You’re also ridiculously smart and the way you articulate your thoughts fascinates me. When you talk, I want to stop and listen to what you have to say, no matter how mundane you think it is.”

You paused as if debating your next words.

“It’s one of the reasons why I like you.”

Namjoon almost choked on his pizza when he heard you utter those words. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he nervously began scratching at the back of his head. “You like me?” He asked bashfully.

“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly. “And not in the friend-zoned way.”

That was another of the many reasons why Namjoon liked you. Blunter than an unsharpened, overused knife, your words were straight to the point but said in a way that the receiver could not misconstrue the meaning behind them. Silence ensued as your confession hung in the air. You weren’t really expecting a response; your words were simply a matter of fact. So, you finished your pizza slice and continued working.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was trying not to freak out. Whilst he knew he needed to say something, he was still stuck on processing your words.

You liked him.

Three simple words that held so much sentiment and was making his heart beat irregularly. You liked him. And not in the friend-zoned way, he chuckled internally. After a couple of minutes, when he felt his chest unclench just a little, he cleared his throat and answered with, what he hoped was, an equally casual tone;

“I like you too. And not in the friend-zoned way, either.”

A small smile starting from the corner of your lips appeared, and ever-so-discreetly, with your eyes trained on your laptop screen, your hand found its way to Namjoon’s right, and squeezed it reassuringly.

Strike three. You’re out.

fin.

―

a/n: hiya!

so this edited/re-written version of my 2015 drabble of the same name was inspired by bts' song 'Converse High' from their HYYH PT.1 album. back in the day, it was written in an interview that joonie's ideal type was someone tall, had a nice/good voice, and wore jeans, a white tshirt and red converses. that is most likely no longer the case, but i remember writing the original piece during a uni lecture because i had 'converse high' as my morning alarm and couldn't really get the song out of my head. it was actually one of my favourite early pieces because it was light, fluffy, and a product of procrastination. re-writing it gave me a sense of nostalgia and i actually ended up re-playing the album on loop during the re-writing process.

i mentioned in my last published piece that i have started brain-storming a mini series and i may actually spend some time fleshing that out. at this stage i am still trying to write everyday so i'm not actually sure what my next published work will be but i'm excited to share with you all!

again, thank you so much for reading my work. I’m always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or send me a message!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

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