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philistiniphagottini · 2 months ago

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hiiiiiiiii!! I would like Dan Feng x reader x Dan Heng (canon universe) where they are in the bathtub n reader gets smushed between them. They swore they would just have a nice bath together but it turned into rough sex :3c thanku!! -🐉

Thank you for coming back and requesting dragon Anon, i enjoy seeing you in my inbox :D Okay, so I tried to put plot in this originally but my brain said "no plot. only smut." oh and btw, they both have two pps, so there is four pp in total. Is it realistic that you can handle all four? Fuck no but it was hot writing it. Now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go pass the fuck out from the horny overload but i'll probs be back on my bullshit tomorrow. Enjoy~

cw. smut, penetrative sex, double penetration, threesome, bath sex, female reader, chubby female reader, minors DO NOT interact, 2.6k words

“Dan Feng, you promised.”

A shuddering breath breezed past your parted lips, goosebumps prickling along your searing flesh despite the warm waters of the bath lapping at your bare skin. Every hair on the nape of your neck stood up in anticipation as Dan Feng moved behind you, long wisps of his dark hair sweeping over your shoulders and tickling your skin as he trailed his fingertips along your sides. His long, black nails scratched along the curves of your sumptuous body as they disappeared under the shallow waters to curl around your plump hips. You squeaked loudly, your voice echoing around the tiled walls as water spilled over the lip of the tub from your abrupt movements. A warm chuckle stirred in the back of his throat as a long, serpentine tail coiled lazily around your thigh, the feathered tip swaying hypnotically above the surface of the water. A pleasant shiver rolled down your spine as he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, his hot breath puffing against the sensitive skin as he stared at the side of your face with lidded eyes.

“Oh? And what did I promise, little dove?”

It was hard to think past the thick haze swirling in your mind, the steam permeating the bathroom curling in your lungs with each breath you took. You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth as Dan Heng pressed closer to you from the front, hunger stirring in the depths of his gorgeous eyes as his hands trailed along the plush insides of your thick thighs. You couldn’t escape them. You were all crammed into this tiny tub together, smothered between the scorching heat of two dragons and at the mercy of their undivided attention. It made warmth pool rapidly into the pit of your stomach, slick gathering along the seam of your cunt as Dan Heng pushed your legs wider and nestled comfortably between them. His tail swayed from side to side in excitement, beads of water dripping from his damp hair as the droplets trickled down your skin. Your breathing wavered, lungs pinching in your chest and eyelashes fluttering over your burning cheeks as your body sank further into the warm waters of the tub. Another amused chuckle stirred in the back of Dan Feng’s throat as he traced patterns into the plump skin of your soft stomach, pawing at your irresistible love handles until you squirmed with sordid bliss in his lap.

“What’s wrong, little dove?” he cooed, sharp fangs grazing the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You seem to be speechless, all of the sudden. You were quite chatty just a moment prior. Hmm, I wonder why that is?”

His teasing words sank their teeth into your skin, gnawing at your senses and causing your blood to simmer in your veins. You sputtered, stumbling over your words as Dan Feng dragged the slick muscle of his tongue over your ear and enjoyed how you squirmed from his touch. His tail coiled tighter around your leg, ushering you closer as he pressed his chest into the warmth of your back. Another salacious moan bubbled up your throat as Dan Heng cupped your soft breasts into the warm palms of his hands, kneading at the pillowy softness as your eyes threatened to slip close. Your fat tits eagerly bounced into his firm touch, fingers pinching the pert, puffy tips of your nipples as a loud moan fell from your plump lips.

“Stop teasing her” Dan Heng muttered under his breath, his bright gaze flickering over your shoulder to level a stare at the man behind you. “She’s referring to your promise about keeping this to strictly bathing, remember?”

Another hum rumbled in Dan Feng’s chest, the vibrations dancing along the notches of your spine as his fingers traced up your torso once more. A moan tickled your throat as Dan Feng’s fingers traced along the seam of your mouth, your lips parting and allowing him to push two digits inside with ease. You moaned around his fingers, eyes fluttering shut for a few, brief moments as the hot coil in your belly twisted tighter.

“Oh, I remember” Dan Feng chimed. “Did you also not promise the same thing, Dan Heng?”

A soft hiss whistled through Dan Heng’s lips, the tips of his pointed ears flushing red as they twitched forward to the sound of your sweet moans. You drooled around Dan Feng’s fingers, hips canting forward as your pussy throbbed with want. The heat of the water was making you dizzy as your pulse pounded in your ears like the loud beat of a drum, heart fluttering wildly and ready to leap up into your throat like a startled rabbit at a moment’s notice. Your body was burning up from the inside under their caress and you were starting to lose track of whose hands were upon you. Another thoughtful noise fell from Dan Feng’s lips as his free hand crept between your parted thighs, playing with the chubby folds of your pussy as your arousal webbed between the tips of his fingers. You twisted in his grasp as another moan vibrated against his fingers, your tongue curling between the slender digits as you gently sucked on his skin. A smile curled his lips.

“Ahh, but who can resist such fine ambrosia?” he mused. “You’ll forgive us if we indulge, won’t you darling?”

You nodded along dumbly to his words, all coherent thoughts having drifted from you a while ago as you simply melted into the mind numbing bliss over their blistering touches that bestowed unparalleled bliss. Dan Feng pulled his fingers from your mouth with a loud pop, only for Dan Heng to immediately swoop in and claim the bruised skin in a searing kiss. You moaned as his forked tongue slipped into the hot cavern of your mouth, lapping at the saliva that pooled into your mouth like it was a sweet nectar. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, both of his draconic cocks swollen with arousal and jumping eagerly between your plump thighs. Dan Heng moaned into the heat of your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his slender waist, water sloshing and spilling onto the bathroom floor as you yanked him closer and you were pleasantly squashed between your two lovers. You wanted your bodies pressed and tangled as you revelled in the confusion of it all.

Dan Heng parted from your lips, a thin strand of saliva breaking from the kiss swollen skin as a sharp gasp tumbled from your mouth when Dan Feng swiped his thumb over the weeping hood of your clit. You could feel the wet slap of his cocks rubbing against the small dip of your back, causing more heat to flood into your core as your fraying nerves tingled with anticipation. Your back curved into a beautiful arch as Dan Feng sank two fingers into you, only for Dan Heng to eagerly stuff one of his own digits and join the fray. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as you threw your head back with a loud shriek, face buried into the crook of Dan Feng’s neck as you were stretched around their fingers. Your pussy fluttered as they fingered you open, enjoying the way your body swayed and twitched between them.

“Good girl” Dan Heng praised softly. “You’re doing so well.”

Dan Feng hummed in agreement, your pussy squeezing tighter and soused walls drooling over the press of their fingers as words of encouragement made you feel light headed. Dan Feng pressed his lips to your sweaty temple as he lined one of his cocks up to the tight, puckered hole of your arse. Your hips jolted forward as the tip pressed into the ring of muscles, only for Dan Feng to drag you back by the scruff of your backside and seat you back into his lap. His sharp tongue clicked behind his teeth, your ears burning with a furious itch as he continued to rut the fat head of his cock between the soft cleft of your arse cheeks.

“Do not run” he whispered with a husky purr of your name.

Your mind swirled as you tried to focus on the way Dan Heng was curling his finger inside of you, twisting the digit until he brushed up against the hot bundle of nerves that made stars waver in your vision. It was a pleasant distraction as Dan Feng pressed forward, sheathing his boiling cock into your arse and forcing the air from your lungs in only a few, brief seconds. You whined loudly, nails scratching along Dan Heng’s torso as your eyes threatened to slip into the back of your head. A hot grunt puffed against the nape of your neck as Dan Feng seated one of his cocks inside of you, nose pressed into your hair as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

“So tight” he growled, tail coiling tight in a possessive grip.

His horns glowed softly with a faint light, the ethereal glow bathing your skin as the water surrounding you almost turned scalding from the heat emanating between the two dragons. You didn’t have much time to gather your bearings, heart still stammering to an unknown rhythm as they slipped their fingers from you; not giving you much time to mourn the loss before Dan Heng was pushing into you. You moaned and whined until your voice scratched in your throat, water rippling violently and soap suds clinging to your pruning skin as you were filled to the brim. At first it was one. Then there were two. Until finally, a third cock was stuffed into your fat cunt, splitting apart the creamy folds of your silky lips. You could scarcely breath as your chubby pussy struggled to swallow around them both, a wanton moan pushing past your spit soaked lips as your insides turned to mush around their thick shapes. Your eyes were just as dazed as your mind as you stared up at Dan Heng, steam curling around his lips in visible puffs as he tried to reign in his erratic breaths. He was struggling to keep himself controlled with the tight heat of your cunt hugged around both his engorged cocks.

“Dan…” you croaked.

A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes as Dan Heng started to move, bumping his hips into yours as he rutted his cocks deeper into your soused walls. Your nerves shocked you like a live wire as the bumps and ridges lining his cocks dragged against your plush insides, whines rolling unabashed from your tongue as the hot knot inside your stomach twisted tighter. Dan Feng’s hand found its way back between your parted thighs to play with the swollen pearl of your clit, pinching the tightly packed bundle of nerves between his fingers as you shuddered in ecstasy. His free hand rubbed at your swelling stomach, the tips of his fingers tracing over the bump where they were both intimately moving beneath your skin.

“Such a pretty little mate” he sighed with bliss.

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth and you couldn’t force a single word out no matter how hard you tried. It felt like you didn’t have control of your body anymore; your senses spiraling as all sentience seemed to suddenly dissipate. The intoxicating smell of sex curled deep in the pit of your lungs with each haggard breath, only to be punched straight out of you as Dan Heng thrust his hips forward and carved a path deeper into your slobbering cunt. You blindly reached behind you, tangling a hand in the silky tresses of Dan Feng’s hair and tugging at the roots as you felt him bump his cock a little deeper into your arse. Shared moans of passion were exchanged, more water out of the bathtub than in it as more perspiring drops spilled over the porcelain rim. Dan Heng’s knees ached and almost slipped on the bottom of the tub as he pitched forward, burying his face into the scorching valley of your supple tits as his hands squeezed your plump hips and yanked you closer.

Pinpricks of blood bubbled to the surface of your skin as Dan Feng dug his sharp fangs into you, tongue chasing away the sting of his bite as your lips parted in a silent scream. You screwed your eyes shut against the onslaught of writhing rapture tickling the base of your skull, the pressure in your stomach ready to boil over and shatter something inside of you without remorse. You mewled as Dan Heng dragged his bruised lips across your skin, nipping and laving his tongue around your breasts and leaving behind a garden of bruising marks as the pace of his hips grew delirious. You could feel the thick heads of their cocks all fighting to press against the boiling hot nerves of your cervix, battling to see which one was going to have the honour of impregnating you first. You doubted either of them could get you pregnant but the frantic push of their hips were determined to convince you otherwise. A spine tingling shiver raced along your back as Dan Feng whispered honeyed words into your ear, making you tense up as the taut cord inside of you finally snapped.

You screamed so loud it made your ears ring, the wet sound coming between your bodies joined in fervid rapture only drowned out by the utter filth spilling from your mouth as the coil shattered into a million tiny pieces. Your hot walls squeezed your dragons tight as they smothered their cocks in you, bullying the entrance to your womb and emptying your head of every thought. Your veins were seared with white hot relief, your clit kicking weakly against the press of Dan Feng’s fingers as crystalline tears of pleasure stained your flushed cheeks. Your eyes lulled into the back of your head as the rapture continued to overcook your nerves and you almost passed out when you felt Dan Heng’s cocks explode with his hot, viscous seed that drowned your walls with sticky relief.

Dan Heng’s hot pants buzzed in your ears as you were filled to the brim, pearls of his cum dripping from your dripping pussy as Dan Feng succumbed to his pleasure only a moment later. You squirmed in his lap as both of your holes were drenched in creamy warmth, his thick seed gushing from your overly stuffed cunt as burning like wildfire. The tips of your fingers were numb as you tugged on Dan Feng’s hair one last time before your digits slipped through the silky tresses. You could feel their cocks throbbing for another release, your pussy trembling in the aftermath even as the last dregs of pleasure chewed through your overstimulated nerves. Your senses were slow to crawl back to you, skin clammy and sticky despite the puddle of water lapping at your skin. You were vaguely aware of Dan Heng’s strong hands on you, his touch like a soothing balm as he eased the tension from you and kept you tethered to this plane of existence.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “How are you feeling?”

Your body tingled as you stirred, offering Dan Heng a giddy smile as you relaxed further into Dan Feng’s embrace.

“Warm” you replied, voice scratching your throat and leaving behind an itch. “So very, very warm.”

Dan Feng chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your cheek as his arms coiled loosely around your plump waist. He hushed you when you twisted, so pleasantly helpless in his hold as his rough tongue lapped at the drying tears on your heated skin.

“Such a good girl. Just relax now and let us pamper you.”

#my writing #request #anon #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng il #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #dan feng x reader x dan heng #fem!reader #x reader #x chubby reader #nsft #smut

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shibaraki · 1 year ago

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MAYBE IT’S A SIGN ┊ YAMADA HIZASHI

tags: GN reader, no quirk au, meet-cute, strangers to lovers, people watching, mic is fluent in JSL, pining, mutual attraction, flirting, fluff as promised !!!

wc: 1.7K

You aren’t afraid to admit that your life is a little mundane.

Rather than resent it you get by with the little wonders. The path is much the same but never the people, and your favourite part of the day is the train journey home. A precious twenty minutes when you can sit and watch the lives unfold around you. It’s during this time that you notice him.

You’re familiar with the regular passengers—not personally, rather, they’ve taken up space in your memory, each dedicated an intricate and fabricated backstory to pass the time. This new regular is definitely somebody you’d remember. Because he’s, well.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Tall and lean, decently thick arms and a trim waist often hidden beneath a signature leather jacket. Bulky headphones around his neck. A trimmed moustache and vivid green eyes peering over red rimmed glasses. Waist length blond hair, like spun gold in the train cars cheap fluorescence, never worn in the same style. You’ve seen it draped around his shoulders, a sleek updo, half down, and pulled back into a braided ponytail that mimics a mohawk.

Today it has been haphazardly shoved into a messy bun, wisps falling to frame his face as he smiles at his phone. Your heart beats a little faster at the soft sight. He’s sitting closer than usual, driven deeper into the carriage by the lack of seating; close enough to catch a glimpse at the music note sticker on his phone case and the chipped red paint on his nails. Before he can look up and catch your inquisitive stare you turn it toward the window, watching the rivulets of rainwater race in the wind as the cityscape passes by.

Thoughts wander, veering toward the faint shadows under his eyes. You’ve theorised plenty and settled on him being a musician of sorts. Piano or a guitar judging by his fingers. Guitarist would suit his aesthetic, but you find the image of him as a pianist strangely romantic.

As the train rushes through a dark tunnel you’re faced with your reflection, and his own in the background. For a split second you’re certain that your eyes meet. Then the darkness vanishes, and you squint against the pale eventide light.

Your close friends have heard a lot about Train Guy. They’ve teased you to no end, finding amusement in your lack of action. Writing a plotline for a beautiful stranger might be slightly piteous but it’s all you’re going to get. It’s not like you were ever going to do anything about your attraction.

You slump against the back of your chair and fiddle with the zip on your jacket, soaking up the heated murmurings between a couple from across the carriage. Train Guy seemed the chatty type, though he always hung up whoever he was on call to as he boarded you’d caught an english word or two. They sounded natural in his mouth—a fluent accent that inferred plenty of practice. You wanted to hear him speak more, but after the doors are closed silence is sternly expected.

As your thoughts drift, so does your attention. Your heart leaps to your throat. Train Guy is reclined comfortably, baring the pale column of his throat as he keeps an ear tucked against his left headphone speaker, bouncing his leg to a tune you’re not privy to. What grips you is the suggestion of a smile hanging on his lips as he looks back at you. It’s more hesitant than it is coy. Almost as though he might be just as unsure about his footing as you.

Pointedly, he nods in the direction of the bickering couple. His mouth downturns into an exaggerated grimace, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You laugh and quickly smother the sound with your hand, heat crawling up your neck as a nearby elderly man peers up.

Train Guy’s eyes are softer now. There’s a shallow dimple by the right corner of his mouth that deepens with his grin. He sits up straighter when you smile back and butterflies hatch in your stomach. You feel their paper thin wings beat behind your ribs. Holding his hands out to draw your attention you watch his pointer fingers stop a few inches apart and bend toward one another.

At your confused frown he down it again, this time mouthing the word ‘hello’. Then he points at his chest. He silently sounds out the name ‘Ya-ma-da’ in time with his movements. His name. Your lips part in soft surprise. Mirroring the initial position of his hands, you cautiously repeat the motion, fingers bending inward. It’s JSL—and the sign quite literally mimics the image of two people bowed in greeting.

The train creaks as it slows in preparation to approach the next stop. Disappointment hangs in the air. He shuffles in his seat, getting ready to stand. He flashes you an encouraging thumbs up, eyes smiling over those yellow tinted glasses. Then his forefinger uncurls once more, forming an upside down ‘L’ shape. He draws his hand in an arc across his face and lies the opposite palm flat, swiping flat across it.

You pout after him as he gets to his feet, this time without clarifying what he’d said. He simply shucks his leather jacket closer to his chest, pulls his headphones over his head—concealing the pink blush staining his ears—and waves as the doors open.

A gust of wind plumes into the enclosed space, petrichor briefly filling your senses. Your neck turns at an awkward angle just to catch a final glimpse in the crowd as the train pulls away.

The first thing you do upon arriving home is search up basic signs. It pulls up a website with dedicated categories; signs for greetings, for navigating daily life, for family and friends. Then, as you scroll further, your mouse hovers over the embedded images for flirtatious signs. Your living room takes on a hazy, mauve rose glow, perhaps from all the blood rushing to your brain.

Unless you are misremembering, Train Guy—Yamada, had called you beautiful.

The knowledge sits restlessly with you. An amalgam of giddiness and impatience bursts through your body like a babbling brook. This sort of thing never happens to you.

You wanted to see him again. To somehow reciprocate his efforts to connect with you in the pervading silence of that train car. Clicking back on the screen, you open up the menu bar and find fingerspelling. You repeat the motions, signing out your name until fatigue from the work day wears on your bones.

The next morning starts with vigor. Your excitement only seems to make the hours drag longer, each slower than the last. Coworkers remark on your eagerness to leave—making playful comments about a new secret lover, only to be spurred on by the sheepish expression on your face.

There is no lover to speak of, not yet. Just a pretty stranger who may or may not be a musician with which you share part of your journey home.

Yamada is there when you board, already perked up and waiting. His hair is braided today, draped effortlessly over his shoulder. You immediately duck your chin to hide a smile, teeth gnawing your inner cheek as you take the spot across from him.

A hush falls over the passengers when you hear the doors click shut. You glimpse up through your lashes. Yamada leaned forward, elbows on his knees, cheek resting in his palm. Anticipation swoops through your belly. You can’t help a nervous glance at the people around you as you sign hello to him.

Before he can respond, your finger points to your chest. Something flashes in Yamada’s eyes, now raptly watching while you sign out your name. Brighter still the instant you point at him, arc your forefinger and thumb across your face, and wipe across the opposite palm.

Beautiful.

Pink looks good on him, you think. Oscillating between flustered and frustrated, Yamada’s hands clench and unclench in his lap, seemingly agitated that he can’t use his words. You exhale a long held breath as he pats down his jacket pockets, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth while he types.

Once he finishes he leans across the gap to offer you the phone. You grip the seat handle and stretch to take it, static zipping down your spine when your fingers brush. Written up on the open notes app is:

Do you want to get off at my stop so I can take you out for coffee? YEAH! or no :-(

You huff a laugh through your nose, bringing the screen close to your front and typing your reply with a furtive glance as if it were a big secret just between the two of you.

YEAH! ✔️ I’d love to.

Yamada peeks at the response and dramatically holds the phone to his heart. This time when the train slows at the familiar stop you stand with him. Close enough to smell his warm scented cologne and leather. Shoulder to shoulder as you wait for the doors to open you feel those lithe fingers extend to brush your own. He doesn’t take your hand but it’s a close thing.

The arm resting a hair's breadth from your lower back guides you onto the platform and through the oncoming influx of passengers to a quieter spot. Alone together you drink each other in. Nervously tugging your sleeve to your wrist, you wet your lips and say, “…Hi”.

Yamada’s eyes squinted under the magnitude of his grin, nose wrinkled enough that his glasses slipped just a fraction. “Hey,” he returns. The low baritone of his voice settles over you like silk and you get the inkling that your life is about to become a little less mundane.

Even then, you’re certain that your favourite part of the day would always be the train journey home.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader

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pinkwisp-ttv · 1 year ago

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at a 5

#chatty wisp #aphantasia

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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago

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venti and xiao would be the best big brothers!!

venti would sing you to sleep whenever you seem to have trouble doing it yourself, and xiao would just loom over you /j

xiao would be so protective though i think

when their sibling can't sleep.

summary. how do venti and xiao comfort a sleepless little sibling?

trigger & content warnings. insomnia.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort. venti & younger sibling!reader, xiao & younger sibling!reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. youre so right alyssa (are we on first name basis? idk, please tell me if not haha) they would be the best big brothers!!! i imagine that anemo boys in general are just good brothers..... i should write for kazuha. i love him and i dont talk about it enough HSKSGAJFJF

what do venti and xiao do when their sibling can't sleep?

venti gives the best comfort tbh. oh, [name] can't sleep? he's there in an instant. no hesitation. they'll be tossing and turning and suddenly, the windborne bard is tapping at their window with a grin and a wave. archons know where he gets that information from (the thousand winds told him, but no-one needs to know that the chatty little wind wisps are his source! it's a trade secret!), so it seems like he just has some kind of sixth sense for when they can't sleep because he's always there when it happens. he'll gently lay their head in his lap, gingerly fidgeting with their hair if he's not playing his lyre that night in particular. sometimes he'll rub little patterns on the skin of their shoulder and upper arm; his calloused fingertips are oddly soothing. his voice is undoubtedly akin to that of a siren's. he is a bard, after all. his voice is his career.

of course, in this case, his voice is his tool to get his baby sibling to fall asleep.

i like to think venti would sing them a lullaby from old mondstadt, maybe one he learned from one of his friends. he might opt for a softer version of a folk song, or maybe a lullaby he picked up from a different nation entirely. who knows? whatever he settles on, he expects nothing in return.

he usually doesn't stay the whole night through, but when he does, it's because he himself is struggling mentally and needs the company just as much as they do.

ultimately, venti is free as the wind, a fleeting yet soothing touch of comfort to ease the one he loves into getting a good night's rest.

xiao definitely just... looms ominously in the corner. /lh

he's not like venti in that he just knows when they can't sleep—more often than not, they have to call out for him. he'll always, always appear without fail when it comes to them. he always encourages them to call his name if something is wrong. sometimes, however, he might check up on them randomly and find out that way. he's very protective, indeed, and often checks on them in the middle of the night at random times.

nevertheless, he finds out somehow.

xiao cannot offer many words. he just isn't very articulate when it comes to offering comfort. he can, however, offer to cuddle with them if they so desire (he is hesitant, though; xiao is very terrified of harming them. he never wants to hurt them in any way. he'd never forgive himself if he did).

if his presence alone is comforting enough, then he'll stalk around their room, likely settling at the foot of their bed or somewhere where he can see them and silently and effectively get rid of any potential threats that might appear.

it's very unlikely that someone would break in or that a monster would appear, but xiao is on edge nonetheless. he's protective. he would never let anything or anyone even get close to bringing them harm.

xiao is, unlike venti, the lingering presence that scares off anything that might be preventing the one he loves from getting a good night's rest.

they're both very good brothers, they just show it in different ways. <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #platonic xiao x reader #platonic venti x reader

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year ago

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BAD DECISIONS - JJK | FOURTEEN

The silence remains. You're twisting his chain around his neck, now. Getting the clasp to the nape of his neck instead of at the front where it had been. Jungkook watches your unfocused eyes and wonders what the fuck is running through that disco ball mind of yours. "Hey, Byeol?" "Mhmm?" "You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

Bad Decision #14 - New Rules

warnings: jungkook incorrectly does a bird!!! byeols bird is unhinged!! smut - fingering!! oc hasn't shaved and jk simply prefers it that way! no kissing rule established (boo), no pet names rule established (double boo), no hand holding either!!!! jk has a huge boner <3 f receiving, nothing for him!!! rules are rules!!! mirrors <3 jk is always so chatty he he , mild hand kink?

soundtrack: nonsense - sabrina carpenter; wrong- zayn, kehlani

wc: 8k

bd total wc: 450k (on-going)

minors dni |

BD MASTERLIST | WATTPAD Ver. | A03 Ver. | SMUT INDEX

"Hey," you greet Jungkook with a coy smile by your apartment door. He smiles back. Tells you that you look like shit. Is definitely lying.

The way he looks you up and down gives it away.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, still a little uneven in colour because you don't want to put it through even more torture. A slouchy white shirt hangs off your left shoulder, and a pair of dark leggings hug your legs. It's casual. Comfy. Still got glitter on your eyes, as always.

Jungkook can't remember if you've had a discussion about yoga leggings, and how they've got a track record of giving him boners in record speed.

You haven't. You're just aware your ass looks fairly good in them. Not like it matters. Not like you need him to think your ass looks good. No, nothing like that at all.

You also haven't started a daily squat challenge. That would be immature. Flirting with danger. And even if you had, it would be incredibly stupid to leave the chart up on the kitchen fridge - which is where you beeline after you leave the door open for him.

You don't bother inviting him in, mind you. He knows he's welcome. Not because he's been there a thousand times over, nor because it's where you usually spend time together, but because the apartment is yours. He's welcome in your space.

But he is incredibly early - and you tell him as such when you curl up on the couch, tucking the piece of paper you'd swiped from the fridge door beneath a stack of magazines. Jungkook takes the spot next to you, despite the fact there are plenty of other places for him to sit instead. Part of you is tempted to kick him off.

The rest of you, though? So incredibly glad to have him close again.

"Danbi's class runs for another half an hour," you tell him as you scroll through the Netflix landing page.

It's a Monday, and neither of you have been at work today. The perks of your schedules aligning mean that Monday is always a safe bet, but you'd been in desperate need of alone time. The past few weeks have exhausted your social battery.

Jungkook gets like that sometimes, too - but he also doesn't like spending too much time in his own head, and so when a text from you had pinged through earlier that afternoon asking if he wanted to hang out, he replied almost immediately.

It's been a week. Over a week, actually. It's the first time he's seen you since you left his apartment. There's been no real discussion of what happened. A few 'i've seen your tits lol' texts here and there, but nothing that really qualifies as a grown-up conversation. You think you like it better this way; prefer the ominous unknown of the impact such a venture has had on your friendship.

For the most part, it seems like it's had minimal impact. None of which you can recognise straight off the bat, at least. Maybe he's a little more comfortable now than he once was, but you can't really tell. Not entirely.

Thing is, he always seemed comfortable before. There's never really been a need for boundaries. They came and went naturally.

Perhaps that's your problem: you got far too relaxed far too quickly.

And yet you keep a little distance. Who cares if he's seen your tits? God forbid you sit too close to one another.

"Class?" He questions, not realising Danbi was still studying.

She isn't. It's just her hobby. Something she does to unwind after spending all day chasing after unruly dogs.

You nod, eyes still on the screen, looking for something mindless to put on. He's here for the second installment of your Deadpool marathon, so you don't want to put anything worthy of investment on.

"Pole."

"Pole as in..." he says slowly, not sure of the correct term, so you help him out.

"As in pole dancing," you confirm. "She's been doing it for a while. Keeps trying to get me to join."

Jungkook doesn't look at you as he smirks, his eyes now also focused on the Netflix loading screen. "You? Pole dancing?"

There's a jovial glint in his eye, as if he thinks it's the funniest thing he's heard all afternoon. If you were to say that, he'd tell you that you're wrong. It's the funniest thing he's heard all day.

"Hey!" You kick your leg out to tap him, but he stops it before you can reach him. Squeezes his hand ever so gently around your foot. Pushes it back towards you, and holds it down. "I could be good at pole!"

He looks over to you now. "Byeol, I've seen you after twenty minutes on a treadmill. You don't have the stamina."

The smile on his lips would make it seem like he's joking - but he has seen you on a treadmill after twenty minutes. He's absolutely telling what he deems to be the truth, and the offence you take only makes him smile even more.

"Don't-" you halt your words to utter a shriek of disbelief. "Don't have the stamina? Fuck you."

"Nah," he grins. "You wouldn't have the stamina to handle me."

The conversation remains steady; a flirt between friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's easy. Casual.

And when Danbi gets home, it doesn't change. Oh so incredibly easy. Jungkook fits into the life you've carved out for yourself, almost like there was a nook waiting just for him.

Pizza is ordered. Deadpool is played. Ryan Reynolds' ass in lycra is praised. Everything is as it should be.

When it hits midnight, and Danbi is already tucked up in bed, Jungkook makes his excuses. Gears up to leave. Mentions the fact he's got the gym in the morning. Can't be out too late.

The part of you that considers telling him to stay is quiet. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"It's a miracle you're still able to have a decent sleeping pattern," you say as you walk him to the door. "I'd be exhausted all the time."

He doesn't tell you, but he is. Really could have done with an evening to himself. Uni is ramping up, and he's worried he's gonna fall behind on his coursework already.

It's why he's pretty much radio silent for the week that follows.

Until, all of a sudden, he's not.

Jungkook: DB.

You: That's no better than disco ball.

Jungkook: It's better than BD.

You: ...Ball disco?

Jungkook: Big Ditties.

You: Oh my god.

You: I'm blocking you.

Jungkook: No you're not. Come hang out.

Jungkook: Coursework is driving me insane.

Jungkook: Need a distraction.

You: Good. Hope it does <3

Jungkook: :( comeee.

You: No :) x

You arrive a little after ten.

Jungkook is in sweats and a T-shirt, beyond the point of caring to dress up in your presence. Your dynamic is well-established by now; comfort found in the confines of your time spent together. He's got a buttered slice of toast in one hand, a dusting of crumbs detailing the tips of his fingers like the glitter on the inner corners of your eyes. He'd burnt it. You can tell by the scent that lingers in the air, and the knife marks near the crusts where he'd tried to scrape it off.

He grins, in that stupid kind of lopsided way he always does whenever he gets his way.

"Thought you said you weren't coming?"

Your lips are pursed, annoyance written along the line of your frown. The ink is water-soluble, though. One bite down on your bottom lip and it washes away. "I'm here to see the children."

He stands to the side. Opens the door just a little bit wider. "It's about time. They were about to report you to child protective services."

"Oh, yeah?" You encourage his teasing as you step over the threshold.

"Uh-huh," he continues as he bites down on the toast. It crunches beneath his teeth, but doesn't stop him from talking. "Negligent mother, they said - shoes off -" he interrupts himself when you point to your feet. "Take them to my room though."

It's curious, the way he's still keeping you hidden. The only reason for them to not be in the hallway is to stop Jimin from asking questions when he arrives home.

If you knew the grilling Jungkook's been getting ever since that evening Jimin nearly walked in on the pair of you, you'd understand. It's far easier for Jungkook if he gives his housemate as little ammunition to tease him with as he can.

But Jimin's not home. He's in Busan for the weekend.

Jungkook doesn't tell you this. He's not sure why. Part of him doesn't want to talk about Jimin with you. It's stupid, he'll admit, but he likes being your friend. Likes you being his friend. Doesn't like Jimin having one up on him.

He thinks it would be the same if he had a sister. That kind of protective nature.

But he's also seen you naked. Knows that he really can't kid himself into thinking it's entirely platonic. Is kind of confused by it all.

Just knows that he likes the way things are. Doesn't want them to change.

And so he doesn't mention Jimin.

When you enter his room, shoes tossed by his desk, you clamber up onto his bed and take a seat. There's no protest from him, no sign of it being an unwanted intrusion on his space. His sheets have been changed since your last visit, gold acrylic immediately washed away the morning after.

He takes a perch on his desk chair, swinging it around to face you. You're lit only by the lamp of his bedside table and the glow of the city coming in through his curtains. The warmth of the light makes your glitter look like crackling embers burning through the night skies.

"So," you say, all very matter of a fact. There's a demure nature to your poise. It's not very 'you'. "You requested my company?"

He nods.

"Why?"

He spins in his chair to his desk, and picks up a bird. Reads it aloud. "Invite a girl over."

You look at him for a moment, and purse your lips. He's an idiot.

"We both know that this isn't what that means."

"Why not?" He says as if he's genuinely without a clue.

"Because!"

You don't elaborate. Think there's no need. He knows exactly why not - but he's an insolent little fucker when he wants to be.

"No, because what, Byeol?" He says with a grin. He knows you're right. Doesn't care.

"Because," you emphasise. "We both know that inviting a girl over is so much more than just a simple act of asking her to come round. There are layers to it. Innuendo. It's like asking if she wants ramyeon, Kook. You know this."

There's a grin on his lips that he's trying to hide - and is failing miserably.

"The bird says-"

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "It doesn't matter what the bird says. You know what it means."

"Yeah," he feigns innocence to his misdemeanour, eyes all wide and watery. So deep brown in colour it feels like a black hole is just sucking you in. Will never let you leave. God help the next girl who falls in love with him. "It means that I have to invite a girl to my place." He gestures towards you. Shakes his head. "You are a girl, no?"

"You've seen my tits, no?"

"You can't use tits as a qualifier," he tells you. "Not when you insist I also have tits."

"Touche - but still. It doesn't matter if I'm a girl. I'm not a girl girl."

"What does that even mean?" He scoffs, but he knows what you mean. Knows that the risk of rejection from you isn't the same as it is with a random girl. Knows that you're an exception. Not the rule.

"Like, a romantic interest," you say, well-aware he doesn't need it explaining. You just think you need to say it for your own sake. "I'm a friend. It doesn't say invite a friend round, does it?"

"Okay, but it doesn't not say that, does it?"

You're stern as you stare him down. "Jungkook."

"Byeol," he replies with a grin so cheeky it's impossible to remain poised.

You roll your eyes. Lie down. Wave your arm in the air. "C'mere."

He doesn't relent. Doesn't say no. Just stands. Walks to his bed, and flops down beside you.

"Gimmie your phone," you say, but he refuses. "Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not. You're just not getting my phone."

You sit up. Rest on your elbow and look down at him. His eyes are closed. "Why not?"

"Because."

There's a smile tickling your lips. He's imitating you - but he also doesn't feel like explaining. Doesn't feel like trying to find a valid reason beyond 'I'm scared'.

"What happened to facing your fears, huh?" You poke his cheek. "You gonna be a coward? How is that gonna help you?"

"Byeol," he whines, tilting his head to avoid your continued poking. It's annoying, and deliberate. You want him frustrated. Want him proactive. Want him a little riled up. "Stop."

You don't.

"Byeol."

"I'll stop when you stop being a baby," you tell him, poking at his other cheek. Your finger travels all over his face, poking and prodding, ignoring the way he bats you away.

"Stop."

"You stop."

"Byeol."

And still, you don't. At least not until his fingers clasp around your wrist, holding it far away from his face.

"I said stop," he says with a voice so low it's almost a growl. His eyes are still closed. He pulls your hand to his chest. Holds it there. Is vaguely aware of the fact he's drawn you closer. Had almost made you lose your balance entirely.

It's not until you speak that he realises quite how close you actually are. Hears how quiet you are, too.

"And I told you to stop being a baby."

He opens his eyes. Takes you in. You're resting on his chest, thanks to his grip on your wrist and where he's positioned it. Neither of you seem to remember the concept of breathing.

You're close. Closer than he intended. So close he could probably count every single speck of glitter on the inner corner of your eyes. So fucking close. He thinks of the last time you were this close.

Also thinks of the fact he's now wearing sweats, and really shouldn't be thinking about you naked. Not again.

But he is, though it's not your body he's thinking of; it's your eyes, and the glitter that had been caught in your lashes beneath the water of his shower. How you'd glistened. And then fuck it, he's thinking of the way you showed him your fingers, all dainty and pretty, covered in your own-

"Fuck," you hiss in surprise, breaking from his gaze. His eyes fall to his chest, where the culprit of the interruption lies.

Another bird; resting pretty just below his ribs. It moves, up and down, with the contractions of his lungs. Jungkook looks to you, then back to the bird. You sit up straighter and pinch it from his chest. He just lets you, because he doesn't wanna be the one to do it.

He can tell from the wing shape alone that it's one of yours - and even if he couldn't, the way you groan and let your body fall onto his in defeat is a clear sign. He laughs. Strokes his hand up your arm, then ruffles at your hair.

"How bad is it this time?"

You just whine again.

"That bad?"

Nodding into his chest, you hold out the bird for him to take. Only once his chest begins to stutter beneath you, laughter taking hold of his lungs, do you sit up.

"Stop," you tell him, pouting.

He doesn't stop laughing. Serves you right for not listening to him earlier. "Christ, Byeol. Are any of these birds-"

"No," you cut him off before he can finish.

He sighs. Looks up at the ceiling. Shakes his head. Holds the bird to his chest.

"Let's think about this logically first," he says, because it's the only way he can think to not let things get out of hand again like he did last time. "Let's talk about it before we do it instead of after."

You nod. Take a deep breath. "Okay. What are you thinking?"

He looks at you and then back up at the birds. Scrunches his face up.

"I'm thinking... Fuck, alright, I'll be honest. I haven't done..." he trails off, cringing at himself. "Since my ex - although, technically she isn't an ex, but you know what I mean - since her..."

You wait with bated breath. Know what he's getting at. "You haven't done this in a while?"

He's silent. Lets his head turn to face you. "Haven't done this in a while."

"It's okay. We don't have-"

"No," he says. "A bird is a bird. I want to do it."

"You do?"

"Well," he considers, pretending like it's the first time. He's thought about this a lot; the mechanics of your situation, how it plays out in the future. Risk assessment. He's good at those. Has to do so many of them at university that he's started drawing one up one for the pair of you in his head. "I mean if my birds are making me approach girls, chances are things will head in the direction of hooking up, right?"

You suppose he's right. Tell him as much.

"So it'd be good for me to get practise in, right?"

"You think you need it?" You grin.

"No. But I enjoy it," he says. Holds his palms up above his head. Observes them. "I like using my hands."

They're large. One of them is covered in tiny tattoos, the other completely bare. Thin veins hide beneath his honey skin, the tendons always protruding just a little bit. The kind of hands that would be good to hold.

"You've got nice hands," you admit.

Long fingers. Thick knuckles. Well-trimmed nails. Perfect hands, you consider, but will never divulge. Wouldn't want to boost his ego so much.

"Have you been checking them out?" He teases.

"You made me!" you laugh, deflecting, then imitating his voice. "'Look in the mirror, Disco Ball, blah blah blah. Eyes on me. Watch what I do.' I didn't have a choice."

"Sure," he taunts, but he knows you're probably not being dramatic. He really did make you watch yourself, and is probably gonna do it again. Seemed to work well the last time.

He places his hands beneath the side of his head, and takes a moment to check how you're feeling.

You reciprocate his actions. Look at him for a little while. Neither of you say a word. It's like you're mentally preparing for what's about to happen; making sure that it's okay. Giving one another the chance to back out.

You won't, though. Far less of a coward than Jungkook. Too much pride.

"How do we do this?" you whisper.

He smiles. Just faintly. Tenderly. "However is most comfortable for you."

"Well, yeah," you smile back. It's sweet that he feels the need to clarify this. "But I mean, literally. Logically. How do we- Like- Do I just... take my trousers off?"

"I mean, it could be a start," Jungkook laughs. "We're thinking about it too hard."

You groan. Look to the ceiling with an embarrassed smile. You're both a little awkward, but it definitely feels like the awkwardness is mainly your problem today.

"Did you... with Jimin. Did you do this?" Jungkook asks. He's not sure why. Just wants to know.

The bird lies between you both. Has just two words on it. No exclamation points this time, but still with capital letters. Somehow feels less vulnerable to you than the last one.

GET FINGERED.

You consider not answering. Think it's kind of shitty to air Jimin's laundry in such a way - but it's just as much about you as it is him. More so, even.

"Not really," you admit. "A little bit. I hurried him along."

Jungkook pauses now. Thinks. Asks, "hurried?"

"It's just kind of what I do," you sigh, pulling your knees a little further up. Closing off. Protecting yourself. Jungkook pushes them back down again. You let him. "I don't really let people touch me, in that regard. I let them fuck me. Don't let them... have me."

Jungkook wants to ask what that entails, but figures you'd have shared it if you wanted to.

"I guess," you continue slowly, quickly glancing away, before deciding that his eyes are what you wanna see when you explain your relationship with sex. You want him to understand - and so you look back to him. He doesn't take his eyes off of you. "I kind of focus on the other person, yanno? For me, sex? Now? It's validation, I guess. Proving to myself I can still give people some form of... I don't know. Satisfaction? So yeah. I don't really want people touching me, as such. I'll touch them. I'll get them off. And I'd prefer it if they didn't get me off."

"It's a power thing, isn't it?" Jungkook theorises. "Control?"

You're silent. Just shrug. Maybe.

"I think - and you can tell me to shut up if you want - but I think that maybe it's because of your ex. He always held the cards?" Jungkook pauses, but you don't respond. Just look at his chest. Toy with the silver chain around his neck. "And this is your way of holding them instead?"

"Hey, Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

You shake your head. "You get a say in this. It's not all up to me."

"I know I do," Jungkook replies without missing a beat. "If I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. You're in control, but I can't be forced to do anything. Good luck trying if you think I can be."

You narrow your eyes a little. "So you're saying you want to do stuff with me?"

He grins. "Well, I don't find you entirely repulsive, even if you are incredibly annoying."

"Always a charmer."

"It's how I get all those girls - oh, wait," he jokes. Pauses. Thinks. Sighs. "Look, I'd rather work through my issues before I fuck up yet another relationship, and from the looks of it, you'd rather work through yours too. It just makes sense."

"I mean, we could just get therapy."

"Expensive."

"Time-consuming," you agree.

"This is far easier," he smirks, before deciding that you've had enough serious chats. There's no point running around in circles again. And so he decides to lighten the mood. "Now do you wanna get fingered or not?"

"Oh my god!" You slap at his chest and roll onto your back, laughing. "You're fucking vulgar."

"Is that a no?"

"It's an 'ask nicely, Jungkook.'"

He rolls onto his back, now. Laughs, too. "Is that what you want? For me to play nicely?"

"You're not playing at all, yet," you remind him.

There's hesitancy from both of you. It's a little awkward, and so unlike you - but there's no alcohol in your system like there was the first time a bird was attempted, and no excuse to touch like there was with the paint.

This one is just you and Jungkook.

"Can I go freshen up first?" You ask, a little nervous and highly aware of the fact you hadn't come with the intention of getting Jungkook in your underwear. He says of course, but you're halfway out of the door regardless.

As soon as you're in the bathroom, you're rummaging around in the cupboard - praying - looking for a disposable razor of sorts. You know Jungkook keeps his good one in his room, next to his towels.

Apparently, Jimin just loves to share regardless of what it is, much to Jungkook's dismay. It's not like Jimin's razor is here either - he's taken it with him to Busan.

Your search is fruitless, and when you return to Jungkook's room a little unsure of yourself, jeans off and tossed onto his desk chair, he can sense there's something wrong.

"I haven't shaved," you sort of blurt out, much to his surprise.

"Okay?" He grins, drying off his wet hands that he'd washed in the kitchen while you were gone. "Nor have I? You want a medal?"

"No, I just-"

"Thought I'd care?" He questions, a little bit offended. "First things first, this isn't about me. It's about you. And secondly, I kinda like it - so I really don't care."

"You like it?"

"I like pussy," Jungkook simply states. "Like it no matter what way it's served up."

"You're not eating it."

"Not yet."

"You are unbelievable."

"Believe it, Byeol," he winks, perching on the end of his bed. Reaching out, he encourages you closer. Gets you standing between his legs. "Enough fucking around though. I think we should set out some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" You question, knowing it's probably smart. Aren't sure why you didn't think of it first.

He knows why. Casual sex isn't that much of a big deal to you.

Jungkook's not good at the whole unattached sex thing, though. He only really sleeps with girls he's interested in romantically.

A boy that looks like him? You had expected him to have well over a dozen notches on his bedpost - but he can count them all on one hand.

It's not that he's a prude, or vanilla, or anything like that. Jungkook fucks. He fucks well. He just fucks the same people for extended periods of time. Takes comfort in routine. No chance to sleep around when you're as loyal as a dog.

You're the exception, not the rule. Time and time over, it becomes more and more apparent.

"Rules," he nods.

"No kissing," you reply almost immediately.

"No-" he's about to protest, but then nods. "No kissing."

In fact, he actually agrees with you. He loves kissing. Might even like it more than blowjobs. Would happily take an hour make-out session in lieu of foreplay. For him, it is foreplay.

And so despite how desperately sad he is to know he won't get his favourite thing, he understands why.

He only likes it because of how intimate it is.

"Anything else?"

You take a moment to think, and then decide, "No hand holding, either. And no pet names."

"Not even Byeol?"

"At this point, I'm not even sure you remember my real name, Kook. Byeol is fine."

He nods, then scrunches his nose in a little disgust.

"God." He dry-retches. "Imagine calling you something like baby." He retches again, a light grin tickling his lips as you scoff in offence. "Yeah, no you wouldn't suit anything cute."

"You're so lucky that the idea of you calling me baby repulses me," you flirt right back.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks - and then he's toying with the hem of your shirt. Pushing it up. Ghosting the lace of your thong with the tips of his fingers. "You'd hate it, would you?"

His fingers creep down. The pads of his fingers trace the tops of your thighs. Skirt the lace trim of your panties where they cover your pussy. Has your heart beating at a mile a minute.

"Would be such a turn-off."

The way his eyes scan your face has you wanting to take back every single rule you've just set.

"So you're telling me you're turned on, now?"

His words are met with a shrug. "I don't know, Jeon. Am I?"

"If I'm not allowed pet names, there's no way in hell you're allowed Jeon."

"No?"

He stands. Towers above you. Turns you round. Lowers his head, and lets his lips ghost your ear. "Not unless you wanna get me hard."

You fucking giggle. It's sin. When you turn your head ever so slightly to whisper in his ear, he thinks about saying fuck it to the birds. Needs more than what they're providing.

"I can feel you. You're already hard, Jeon."

He pulls away from you. Palms at his crotch. You're right. And so he just smirks. "Fine. Harder."

"Wouldn't that be a shame," you tease - but are met with a show of dominance you've haven't seen before from Jungkook as clasps both of your wrists together just above your ass. Positioning you just where he had you last time he was in your room, you know your underwear is getting ruined.

The view reflected back in his full-length mirror only makes your heart beat even faster.

"I won't lie," he swallows back the nerves that he was able to hide while he was flirting. Down his throat they go, settling next to his heart that's already beating a mile a minute. Positioning himself behind you, he encourages you both to the floor. You're sitting in front of him, as he kneels behind you and pulls you back a little. "You're right. I'm already real fucking hard, Byeol."

"Really?" You smirk. "Couldn't tell."

He tilts his head back. Groans. "God, I hate you. I want you to ignore it, okay? It's my problem to deal with."

All you can do is nod.

"Okay," he says softly as he leans around to position your legs how wants them: bent at the knees. Spread. You're on display - and Dear lord, what a treat for the audience. A treat for him. "Look in the mirror. Watch me, okay? Watch my hands."

And you do; watch the way his palms lay flat on your knees, then slowly, gradually, trickle down your thighs. "What do you say if you wanna stop?"

"Chess," you say, ending the word with a gasp as his thumbs brush the outer lace of your panties.

"Good girl," he hums into your ear, but you can barely hear him over your beating heart as his thumb begins to stroke over your clothed pussy. You're already soaked. It wets his thumb. Has him smirking. "Told you so."

He pushes the lace to the side. Exposes you. Makes him curse. Is slow as he sinks a single finger into you.

He keeps it shallow. Just the first two knuckles. Just enough to let you know he's there. You can still see the ink on his finger.

The moan you exhale is desperate. Needy. Gets him all smug.

"Just testing the waters," he husks into your ear as he pulls it back out, before the pads of his fingers begin to massage around your entrance. He's teasing. Caressing. Doing shit you've only ever had women do to you. The dudes you've fucked have never really cared for stimulation beyond the clit; haven't understood that the right touches in slightly different places can get you so fucking needy.

Needy like you mean it. Not the bratty kind, where you're in control; the pathetic kind, where they're in control.

He's massaging. Using his thumb and forefinger. Working his way up your labia; left side, then right. Up, then down.

It's not like the sensation is anywhere close to what it feels like when his fingers are elsewhere, but it's the fact he's doing it all that really gets you flustered. He's careful. Delicate. Wants you to feel good.

When you let out a moan, you can feel him smirk against you. He lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes his middle finger inside; fully this time. Pumps into you once, twice - "are you always this wet?" - then begins to stroke against your front wall. You whine.

He pushes into you again. Tells you how fucking hot you sound. Pulls out. In again. And then he builds speed. Fucks his finger into you. Just one - but it's enough.

Finally, you answer him between laboured breaths.

"Dunno. You'll have to do this again sometime and figure it out."

Withdrawing his finger, Jungkook rubs small circles over your clit. Holds onto you tighter. Smirks as your whimpers begin to build. His nose nestles into your hair, lips against your ear. "You want that, huh?"

The way your hips push up and grind against his languid movements should be indication enough - but you don't want to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

You smirk right back. "Meh. You could always just compare notes with Jimin, instead."

He pauses for a split second. Scoffs. Sinks his finger back into you. Builds pace. Can hear the sounds of your soaked cunt and knows that it would be cruel to compare. Jimin wouldn't stand a chance. There's no way he had you like this, too.

And Jungkook would be right. The way Jungkook has you now is unlike any of your hookups. You're sober, for a start, and that always helps in the wetness department - but you are wetter than you've been in a fair while.

His fingers are long. Intentional in the way they move. His middle finger hits all the right spots as it pushes into you. He curls it gently without needing to be told. He just knows. Can feel the slight difference in texture. Had trained himself to find it in the past, and is pleased to see yours is just as easy to locate.

You don't think Seokjin ever found it. Not really. For a while, you pretended he could - but it never felt like this.

"Kook," you rasp, ridding your mind of all thoughts of Seokjin. He's no right to be in your brain when it's someone else making you feel so good. "Right there. Right there. Fuck."

"I know," he husks. "Can you take another?"

All do you do is nod. Moan something incoherent. You want more.

He can tell.

"Can you take three?" he asks. You just fucking nod. Will take what he gives you. "Mhhm?"

He bites down the syllables, stopping the 'baby' he wants to mewl from coming out. He knows pet names are a no, but it's a force of habit. It's just like the muscle memory in his fingers knowing how he should touch you; something well trained, well practised.

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Has your cunt stuffed with his fingers. Will make you cum.

It's just as much for him now as it is for you. He's watching your face, how you refuse to open your eyes, how your dewy lips are rested ajar, soft moans humming from your throat.

He kind of hates the rules. Knows they serve a purpose, and that they're smart, but it'd be so much easier for him if he could kiss you.

It's not that he actively wants to make out with you, it's just that it comes naturally to him. He doesn't think he's ever been inside a woman without actually kissing her. There's a sizable portion of his brain which is having to work against his instincts, now. If he didn't have to waste that energy, he could spend it on you instead.

But it also makes it exciting. A little sordid. You've removed the romance he typically associates with a position as promiscuous as this. Maybe he is capable of fucking around.

"I know," he husks as your body writhes beneath his touch. "Ba-" Shit. "Byeol, I know. That feel good?"

Feel good? Feel good? What kind of a fucking question is that? If you could form a coherent sentence instead of moaning every other second, you'd ask him as such. Instead, you settle with, "fuck."

"Should I take that as a yes?" he smirks against your hair, his second hand dropping from the grip it has on your waist down to your pussy. Pushing your thighs a little further apart, Jungkook has you in the palm of his hand like a fucking ragdoll. His hands work in tandem, fingers plunging into your while he rubs dainty circles over your clit, careful to not be too aggressive. He's taking his time. Building your high.

"Take it as a 'you could do better'," you whine, just to wind him up a little. He's doing fucking fantastic.

"Better?" He sounds offended, but is smirking, watching pleasure take hold of your features. He loves the way you goad him on. Knows you must be a right little brat in the right scenario. Think maybe one day, he'd like to experience it fully. For now, he simply growls into your ear. "Open your eyes. Look at yourself." He builds his pace. The sounds of him sliding into you are lewd. Soaking. Sopping wet. "You hear that? Tell me to do better again. Go on. I dare you."

Your gaze opens, all hazy and cum-drunk, falling on the mirror. Your skin is dewy, and the incident positioning of your spread legs puts you on full display.

Jungkook withdraws his fingers. Spreads your lips open. Holds his stare on you. Watches as your wetness drips from your entrance. Rubs circles on your clit. Encourages more. Watches as it seeps from you. Presses his hips upwards to let you know he's still fucking solid for you. He gathers your leaking slick on his index and middle finger, then pushes it back into you.

He's panting, too.

And so you smirk. Watch the pained lust in his eyes. Tell him, "do better," in a hushed whisper.

He's slow. Lets his touches linger. Doesn't pump into you like he had been - instead, he scissors his fingers ever so gently - and that's when you decide he's a menace to society and that you're probably doing the world a favour by keeping him off the streets for a little while longer.

"Holy shit," you hiss, and then your fingers are wrapped around his wrist again. He fucking laughs.

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his smirk not hiding his teeth. He's thinking about kissing you again. Just a small one. On the side of your head. Has to talk just to stop himself.

"That better, Byeol?"

All you can do is whine. Nod a little.

"Can't hear you. I asked a question. Give me an answer," he teases. "Now, is this better, Byeol?"

"No," you lie. "Considerably worse."

"Fine," he says, and pulls out. Grips your thighs with his soaked fingers. Squeezes them together. Lets you pant for a little while. He's panting, too. "On your knees."

"Sorry?"

"You will be," he smirks, changing his position behind you. "Get on your knees."

And so you do. You relinquish trust to him. Feel like you might have a heart attack from how fast it's beating - but he knows this. Strokes the curve of your hip. Hugs you into his chest ever so slightly and says, "the minute it gets too much, or you decide you've done enough... just say the word, Byeol."

He nuzzles his nose against your hair. Likes the way it smells. Hugs you a little tighter, still.

You nod. "At least tell me how you want me, first?"

It's the mental preparation you need, much more than physical. He knows this. Knows that his teasing has a time and a place. What was okay a few moments ago would be too brash now - so he tries a little tenderness once more.

He waits for you to look at him. Not in the mirror this time, but head turned, eyes on his. The glitter on your eyes catches in the light. Reflects in his eyes. Puts stars in them.

"On your front. Head down," he says slowly, not wanting it to sound crude. "Ass up. Or just flat on your front, if you'd rather. Up to you. Wait-" He stands, holding out his hand for you to take. When you do, he pulls you up and guides you to his bed instead. Lets you sit. He still stands. "Just realised I was asking you to be facedown on the literal floor. My bad."

You don't say anything, just smile at the fact he realised it. Such a boy, and yet such a gent. He's trouble, there's no doubt about it. As your eyes study his face, he seems sincere - and so you turn. Lean forward. Stretch out. Face down, ass up.

"Fuck," he hisses and gets on his knees behind you. One of his hands grapples at your ass, fingers sinking into the peachy flesh. He strokes against the soft skin, and then asks, "how do you feel about spanking?"

You smirk into his sheets. Plunge even further into them. Raise your ass even higher. "It's not on the bird."

His fingers dig further into your cheek. You're mewling. He's getting delirious again. "Byeol..."

The way you move your hips ever so slightly is absolute sin. You know you're trying to make him crack. You know it's working. "Mhmm?"

He pulls you back. Presses the bulge in his trousers against you. He's still hard. Harder, even. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close, even as he retracts - before pulling you tight to him. Repeats. Ruts himself against you a couple more times.

"If one of those birds doesn't end with me fucking you-"

"You'll what?" you say with a sardonic smile as you twist your body around and out of his grasp. You're on your back now, reaching for his shirt, pulling him down.

He complies. Tangles his legs with yours. Lets his hand cup your heat. Toys with you. Teases.

"What will you do, huh?" You flirt. "Die?"

He smirks now, too. Knows that you're taking the piss. Quite likes it. Likes that you remember the shit he says when he gets too horny for his own good.

"Maybe," he husks, sinking his fingers inside you again. Didn't even get to have you how he wanted you, but he likes this. Likes the flirt. Likes how erratic your breathing gets.

"Guess you'll just have to - fuck - keep waiting for them to fall," you turn a little. Hook your leg over his hip. Grind against him. Ride his fingers. "See if you get what you want."

"I'm incredibly patient," he lies. Builds the speed he's fucking them into you at. Uses the hand that's not bringing you closer and closer to climax to hold your chin. Wants to keep you looking at him.

"Liar."

"I'll do this for hours if it means making you cum," he almost snarls over the sound of your moans.

You laugh. Stutter on the moans in your throat. Tell him good luck. Let him know that you can't remember the last time someone else made you orgasm. You can do it yourself, easy. Someone else? Good fucking luck.

"Fine. We're gonna make you cum," he says as if it's a group activity - but then he drops his grip from your chin and reaches to the hand of yours that had been hooked over his shoulder. Guides it to your pussy. "Get yourself off."

You stare at him for a moment. His pace eases, but his gaze doesn't drop. He's slow. Rubs at you just in the right way. And then he says, "get yourself off while I'm inside you."

You say nothing. Do as you're told.

"Good girl."

It doesn't take long. If anything, it's embarrassing how quickly he has you coming undone. Admittedly, you're just as much a part of it as he is. Without your input, maybe he would have had to have been going for hours.

But you are involved, and you're shaking around him. Legs trembling. Toes pointed. Head buried into his chest, fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from overstimulating you too much. His name escapes your lips as your orgasm ripples through your muscles, and Jungkook just fucking laughs.

"So fuckin' hot," he praises, lips pouty, in desperate need of a kiss to offset the fact he's practically leaking precum into his pants.

Rules are rules, though. They're not made to be broken. Not these ones.

He withdraws from you, and wipes the mess on his sheets. Will deal with it later. Watches you as you giggle to yourself, orgasm well and truly delivered. When your eyes open and focus on him, Jungkook is pleased. You look content.

"I'm still scared," you simper. "We might have to practise that one a few times."

He laughs now, too. Rolls onto his back. Can smell your arousal on his fingers. Has never been more hungry in his entire life.

"Such a liar."

But you both are, in your own ways.

"Maybe. Thank you... for that," you say, very aware of the unfair dynamics of just you getting off, but knowing that without a fallen bird to specify it, there's no way you can just reciprocate.

"Pleasures all mine," he says, as if he isn't letting himself get severely blue-balled. Knows what the agreement is though. You getting him off now would be just for his benefit. He laments the fact he's not scared of blowjobs. Wishes all of his birds were like yours, now.

The silence consumes you both. Has you wondering why you never come undone like that normally. Makes you think maybe you need to stop preventing people from touching you in such a way. Jimin had tried. You can remember - but you'd dismissed him.

He's not the only person you've dismissed in such a way. Perhaps you will enjoy casual sex more if you don't keep your desires at bay. Maybe Jungkook's been right about this all along.

"Anyways," you turn to face him. "Phone."

"Hmm?"

"Well, we've done my bird. We need to do yours from earlier."

Jungkook says nothing. Is a little bit confused. He's still hard. You've barely come down from your orgasm. Surely nows not the time?

You couldn't disagree more even if you tried. It's the perfect time. Stops you from thinking about how fucking good that was, and how much you want it to happen again.

"You... want me to invite a girl round?"

"Well, not while I'm still here" you consider. "Like, text them now, but arrange it for another time."

"Yeah, but-" Jungkook wants to protest. Wants to remind you that his sheets are covered in you. Instead, he just looks at the ceiling, a little baffled.

"If it's too much, why don't you just text a girl, at least?"

He frowns. You don't notice, because you're looking at the ceiling, too.

But then he sighs. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is being a coward.

"Alright," he reaches for his phone from the nightstand. Unlocks it, and opens up his Instagram DMs. Looks over to you. Catches your gaze. Smiles, despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "What do I say?"

BD MASTERLIST | WATTPAD Ver. | A03 Ver. | SMUT INDEX

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