#i have to make more gifs for him this comeback

[sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack]

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x fem! reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

[passmethatcokezero]

hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au) pt.1

- jihoon x fem!reader - 2.7k words - warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, dry humping, blowjob, needy jihoon cos why not, made so quick cos I was missing him and he has been living in my mind rent free since the day i saw him on the carts ( i wasnt same since then and thoughts have been thunk so here's a fraction of those thoughts ), just a short one, but thinking of making a part two continuation. enjoy!

“You alright?” The silence breaks, as the words from your mouth betrayed yourself. You didn’t really want to speak first, although you did feel the air has now gotten a little lighter compared earlier.

It was Seungkwan’s stupid plan; the guys had been sick of staying up all night after hours of practice for a few days now just to please their dear producer. No one can seem to thaw him, moreso pinpoint where the tension is rooted from. Obviously, it was self-inflicted pressure. Jihoon can’t understand why nobody seems to meet his expectations lately and it got bad to the point of Seokmin blaming himself for what seemed like delays but aren’t as they still got plenty of time before the next comeback. Seungkwan, hurt, seeing his talented friend’s self-esteem chase tears down his cheeks, stepped up by calling you over because “maybe you can do something about your best friend,” as he said.

Jihoon sighed as he slumps his body deep in his chair. You’ve made your presence known since earlier when Soonyoung was trying to ease the tension but you kept your mouth shut or else Jihoon might explode knowing you’re just going to take the poor boy’s side who was even more in tears brought therein by your comforting strokes on his arm. “You came here for what exactly?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed at his words. “Seungkwan called me. For some reason I thought I was coming for a celebration and yet…”

Silence takes over once again. The boys had long been gone since Bumzu initiated that everyone should take a breather first, and secretly asking you to stay and maybe help clear up your friend’s mind. “I don’t even know why the boys kept on doing this, okay? Suddenly all the pressure’s on me whenever you’re acting up.”

You did not want to say it, but it had been a long day at work and hearing his snarky voice ticked you in a bad way.

“I am just tired.” Jihoon says almost immediately, as if not wanting you to say anything more. He massaged his temples and continued, “...tired as fuck.”

“But that does not excuse that kind of attitude!” you stood from the couch, rising with the tension inside the room. “You’re being too hard on the boys and yourself. Again.” You cursed under your breath, realizing the cringy tone that just left your mouth. The last time the same exact nagging tone came out, Jihoon’s anxiety was having a field day in his brain just like earlier, and you did not expect what happened after.

And then it came to you. Soon you were flooded with flashbacks from what happened that night: Jihoon aggressively pinning you by the door, meaning to actually open it and let you out, when all of a sudden you pulled him into an embrace in an attempt to calm him down, crashing your lips to his after a long eye-fucking, breath kissing when you caught him off guard, blushing from the sudden warmth. Not long after he responded, kissing you hard as if you were not just shedding tears arguing with him over his sharp words when you were just asking him to simply breathe during a heated exchange with Soonyoung over the phone. The kiss went wild yet slowly turned comfortable as he kept on apologizing, feeling your hot tears meet his burning red cheeks. You figured he needed it that time, like a de-stressor of some sorts, and so you let his mouth conquer yours as a way to help.

That kiss went longer than what friends could actually share. But if it's the only way to keep your friend sane that moment, you suppose you can let him use you as long as he is not going to be weird about it right after. Which he did, or so you thought.

Because that day never left his mind. He was not sure why you let him kiss you like that that night, nor why you did not even bother to ask about it days, weeks after. A bit hurt that it seemed like a casual thing for you, but for him it meant healing, washing away the anxiety clouding his thinking. That moment stayed on his mind unhealthily long, almost turned into songs he would never write and let you hear, even causing him to get wet dreams for quite a while. But of course, no one could know. Not about the kiss. Not even his budding feelings towards his best friend.

“Jihoon-ah…” you exhaled, turning his swivel to face you. “I can help, Just… tell me how..”

Both of you had the same thing in mind, he needed you just like that night. But why does he find it hard to admit it? 

The guy blushed in pink, avoiding your eyes at all cost, acting as if in deep-thought. “I…”

“Look at me,” he obeys in a second, but his eyes can't help but fall into your lips inches away from him. “Do you want…. my help?”

He nods subtly as an answer, but you can’t just accept that. You needed him firm, an answer to also clear your doubts about the way his eyes are glued to your lips, his ears blushed to the reddest of red, and the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down when you leaned in closer: is he nervous because he’s uncomfortable? or was he nervous because you suddenly make him be?

“Yeah…” his breath hitches, the side of your lips upturns.

“Then say it—”

“I need you,” he reveals his innermost desire as he scrambles to his feet and catches your lips like he has been waiting for it for centuries.

Just like the first time, the kiss deepens instantly as you two found a comfortable position on the couch, you settling on his lap, arms around his shoulders. You two couldn't even care less if the door had been left unlocked when the people had left. It’s just your mouth sharing warmth with his; tongues dancing together in harmony. Just like the first time, he was craving for more, and he was able to relay that message when his teeth grazed at your lower lip, causing a moan to escape your lungs. He too groaned and by then you realized he is now rock hard underneath your heat, his thin shorts revealing himself to your clothed mound. 

“Fuck…” you did not expect yourself to be so turned on knowing you made your best friend erect just like that. All you did was wet kissing and well, maybe sitting right above his cock was what it all took.

You arched your back when you felt him squirm underneath you. He was definitely trying to move and find his rhythm, you thought, so you matched with his and rolled your hips against his erection.

“Damn….” he moaned so deeply with his hoarse voice. The friction between your clothed pussy and his bulge was enough to send you dripping to your core. Not even him, the most rational person you knew, can think straight at a moment like this: does he want to kiss your neck or pull you for another tongue wrestling? Does he want to tear all the annoying garments away from you? Does he want to set his cock free and let you sit on it, ride it if it’s too tempting for you? There’s one thing he knows though, he does not want to stop humping for now. The kind of pleasure the friction is giving him, plus the fact that he was doing such an erotic activity with not just any person but his best friend he had been fantasizing about lately was enough to send him nuts. He cannot even fathom what would happen if this escalates to something more, just having your warmth and your equally heightened libido had his focus on the now.

“You’re so hard, Jihoon.”

It felt so good and ego-boosting at the same time. Is he having a good time as well? He seems to like it as much as you do. His erection and hip movements to meet yours say it all: he wants you so bad and you feel proud someone actually desires you that much. When even was the last time you got laid? Was it a very long time ago? You aren’t sexually active yourself, and surprisingly, you’ve never been in a serious relationship as well. Maybe it wasn’t your priority, but having this heated session with your friend, you realized, you also craved to be touched, and be wanted. You wanted to be kissed deeply and ravenously, to be held possessively, and to be wanted as hungrily as how Jihoon was making you feel. Exactly as how Jihoon is obsessing for all that you are right now.

“Touch me. Please, Jihoon…” 

The dry humping must have had a drug, you thought. How come having all these annoying barriers on your skin makes all these way hotter than you thought it could be? Especially when Jihoon’s feisty hands made their way from your waist to the insides of your shirt while his sloppy kisses made their way to your neck. His cold hands cupping your breasts send electricity to your spine, causing you to moan out his name as dirty and needy as possible. Who could blame you, he was making you feel so good. His hands that created masterpieces are now invading your privacy, so sweetly yet so heavy with emotions. It was as if he was milking out lyrics to an explicit love song out of you, to match the melodies coming out of your lungs that harmonize with his.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” he managed to say between breaths, as he enjoys playing with your now slightly free breasts that had slipped out of your bra. He is still a boy, you found that out long time ago, when you’ve caught him subtly staring at your chest during that one listening party night you were his plus one at a bar hosted by a producer friend and you just had to wear something skimpy and rather revealing, something to match the R&B vibe of the album. He did catch himself as well staring that time, and proceeded to lend you his suit because “the bartender was having the time of his life flirting with you," - went his alibi.

“Yeah? That’s why you wanted me so bad huh?—oh shit!” you moaned out loud when his hold on you became heavier, pushing you down to his hardened cock as if there were anymore spaces left in between.

Mouths agape, together you humped against each other's heat, only moans were resonating inside his studio alongside a minute sound of the friction cause by the fabrics.

“Fuck I think gonna cum, fuck,” Jihoon cursed, while his eyes were shut and his teeth gritted to concentration. “Fuck,” he humps against you harder as curses kept on rolling from his tongue, while your hips rolled faster to meet his tempo, moans pitched higher and higher. You were also close, and suddenly you were reminded this isn’t about you. You were helping your friend. And you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Wai-wha—what are you doing?” his voice sounded annoyed but you know better than to answer him. Legs folding on the floor as you positioned yourself in between his, not wasting time in pulling twice the constraints that were his shorts and underwear. His cock sprung healthily, all pink and angry, veins bulging out as if wanted to be traced by your tongue.

He hissed out of breath, confused if he wanted to surrender on the couch or look at you in a position he had only dreamt of once. 

No words need exchanging as you started sucking him off right there, mixing his precum with saliva, coating him down until your mouth can take. He had praises for you behind his teeth but all he could let out were needy guttural moans that translated how good you were making him feel anyway. You let his moans and the sight of him all sweaty and consumed fuck your system as the pool in your south continued to dampen your undies, the insides of your thighs getting ticklish, missing the attention it has gotten from him. Oh how badly you wanted him to fuck you right then and there, how badly you want him bucking his hips and drilling you so deep, how badly you wanted this thick cock of his inside you, stretching you oh so painfully yet so pleasurable.

“fuck… cant… anymore…” his shaky words were almost inaudible from all the dirty noises he was making, sounding even more gibberish while his body moved erratically to fuck your mouth, hands glued to your head to try to get his momentum, which did not take long as strings of cum exploded inside your mouth. You were quick to swallow, but most of his loads were still overflowing, racing down to your chin straight to your neck. It was one heck of a view, he thinks, as his chest heaves chasing his breath while appreciating a bit of the scene: his softening cock popping out of your mouth, before almost passing out.

“that was… really good.” it was probably an understatement to the euphoric climax he just had; his mind was still hazy from the release so he cannot find the correct words to tell you. But you were fine, the moans already sounded like praises to you. “That feels much better than I do with my own.”

“Of course it would,” you gave him a peck on the corner of his lips, and then dusting off the wrinkles on your clothes and adjusting your bra. “Takes two to tango.”

Confusion was then plastered on his face when you began fixing your hair and proceeding to face your back to grab your bag you left by the table. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving?”

“Who said you are?”

Somewhere in the room, his phone rings which he attentively checks. The name wasn’t supposed to annoy the hell out of him, but right now it almost spelled like a curse to him.

“You’re not leaving, please.” he grabs your hand as he takes the call from Bumzu. He knows you did not have your release, and he doesn’t want you carrying all that unreleased tension inside you when he himself had the best one tonight. 

You heard the other line asking how he was feeling now and that he had left something inside the studio and if it’s okay to go and get it. Jihoon agrees, not without a defeated sigh and a click of his tongue only you can hear.

“You know the passcode right? I think I’ll take my leave tonight, I don’t think I can wring anything out of my mind at this rate.”

You looked at him while shaking your head as a smirk forms on your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at him as if asking him what he was saying.

“Sure, actually we’ve been meaning to tell you that.” Bumzu seconds him, and asks about you right after. You heard him say Seokmin and Seungkwan had been asking if you weren’t busy and maybe hangout for a while as a way to thank you from earlier. Both guys had always been the sweetest among the bunch and although it was only out of courtesy, Jihoon can’t help but fume in jealousy, making himself lie to keep you in his (and ONLY HIS) sight for a while.

“She just left, I think she said she’s going for an early appointment tomorrow,” and ends the call soon when Bumzu bids his farewell and hopes of him getting well.

“I didn’t know you can lie to your brothers,”

“For an emergency yeah,” he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, and now he was already leading you out of his studio to the elevator.

“You could just say you’re sending me home, that would sound a lot better,”

And then what, you finding out about how the guys had been teasing him about you since day one? Of course, he won’t let that happen. Not until he finds the time to finally be honest with himself and to you.

“So… my place or yours?”

-

stay tuned for part two for the hoo-haa ;)

a/n: updated! part two is up!

[dippindaz]

Aaah you did my request :D it was so good aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa so in character and wonderful and cute <333 i am mentally printing it out and hanging it on my fridge. Also Billy not knowing how to deal with people looking after him?? Please, my heart 😭😭😭

If you're still looking for requests, I'd love to see Billy, Eddie, and Steve (and maybe Robin if that's not too many 👉👈) teaching a reader one of their hobbies (d&d, basketball, etc.) Tbh i don't think Robin HAS any canonical hobbies so I'm excited to see what you hc she does in her free time

Oh my gosh the praise is too much!!! 🥹 Thank you so much and I’m so happy you liked it!! ^_^ I did all four characters :)

I love this idea as well!!!! I’m sorry this took so long to get out, I got stumped on some theseee

Eddie Munson — Teaching You D&D

• Eddie is beyond excited when you show interest in Dungeons & Dragons. He acts nonchalant at first, but the second you actually agree to play, he’s pulling out his DM’s guide and grinning like a madman.

• He insists on making your character with you, talking you through all the races and classes in the most dramatic fashion. “Do you want to be a noble warrior, sworn to protect the innocent? Or a cunning rogue who trusts no one but themselves?”

• When you get overwhelmed by all the stats and dice, he reassures you with a pat on the head. “Don’t worry, my little apprentice, you’ll get the hang of it soon.” (In the voice you’d imagine an old mentor having.)

• During your first session, he gives you just enough guidance to keep you engaged but lets you struggle a little for fun. “Roll for deception. No, you can’t just lie your way out without rolling—welcome to the cruel reality of dice, sweetheart.”

• If you roll a natural 20, he makes a HUGE deal out of it, narrating the most ridiculous and over-the-top outcome possible. “You don’t just convince the guard—you have them questioning their entire career choice.”

• If you roll a natural 1, expect him to cackle and make your failure as hilariously painful as possible. “Oh no, you trip on your own shoelace and insult the king’s mother. Good luck with that.”

• He definitely starts calling you his favorite party member, even if you’re terrible at the game.

Billy Hargrove — Teaching You Basketball

• At first, Billy thinks it’s hilarious that you even want to learn basketball. He teases you constantly. “Think you can keep up with me, sweetheart?”

• He’s surprisingly patient when teaching you the basics, though. He stands behind you, guiding your arms when you shoot, and smirks when you get flustered. “You’ll never get it if you’re too tense. Relax.”

• If you miss a shot, he doesn’t let you live it down. If you make one? He acts like it was pure luck. “Alright, rookie, don’t get cocky now.”

• The first time you manage to get past him and score during a one-on-one game, he pauses. Stares. Then smirks. “Okay, okay, I see you.”

• Absolutely shows off while playing against you—spinning the ball on his finger, dribbling between his legs, pulling no-look shots—just to be extra.

• If he ever catches you getting frustrated, he actually encourages you. “You think I got this good overnight? Hell no. Keep going.”

• When you’re sweaty and out of breath, he rests his hands on his hips and smirks. “Guess I gotta go easy on you next time, huh?”

• If you really impress him, he’ll jokingly challenge you to a real game. “Loser buys dinner. Better start saving up, babe.”

Robin Buckley — Teaching You French

• Robin insists that French is the coolest language and that knowing it makes you at least 20% more attractive. “Trust me, nothing sounds hotter than a perfectly pronounced ‘je ne sais quoi.’”

• The first thing she teaches you? Not useful phrases like greetings or directions. No, she starts with the good stuff—insults and sassy comebacks. “Okay, repeat after me: ‘Va te faire voir.’ It means ‘get lost,’ but it sounds way classier in French.”

• She definitely teaches you how to swear in French and then makes you promise not to use it in front of teachers or authority figures. (“Actually, never mind, totally use it in front of Keith at work.”)

• Whenever you butcher a word or mispronounce something, she laughs but immediately reassures you. “Hey, you’re doing better than me when I first started. I sounded like a drunk tourist for the first month.”

• She randomly quizzes you at the worst times—like mid-conversation or while you’re eating. “Quick! How do you say ‘the cat is on the table’?” If you get it right, she cheers dramatically.

• If you really struggle with pronunciation, she gets unreasonably close and exaggerates how to shape your lips, totally unaware of how flustered it makes you.

• She casually drops French phrases into everyday conversations and refuses to translate them. “If you were paying attention, you’d know what I just said, mon cher.”

• Eventually, she teaches you something actually romantic, like how to say “Tu es magnifique” (you are magnificent), but she says it so casually that you’re not sure if she’s flirting or just being Robin.

• If you start getting too good, she pouts. “Damn, you might actually be better than me soon. I take it back, I’m never teaching you again.” (She’s totally lying.)

Steve Harrington — Teaching You Baseball

• When you agree to let him teach you baseball, he acts like it’s some super serious training session. “Alright, rookie, let’s see what we’re working with.”

• If you miss your first swing, he shakes his head dramatically. “Yikes. We got a lot of work to do.”

• He absolutely uses it as an excuse to stand behind you, adjusting your grip on the bat. “Loosen up a little. Here, let me—” and suddenly, his arms are around yours, and yeah, he knows what he’s doing.

• He definitely teases you if you get flustered. “Oh? Distracted? Can’t imagine why.” (The smirk he gives you is criminal.)

• When you finally hit the ball, he cheers obnoxiously. “Look at that! My little slugger’s getting good!” He even does a little celebratory fist pump.

• If you hit a really bad shot, he laughs but tries to make you feel better. “Okay, okay, that one sucked, but hey—at least you didn’t hit yourself in the face.”

• Eventually, it turns into competition. He steps up to the plate and crushes a ball just to show off. Then he looks at you with the smuggest grin. “Think you can top that, babe?”

• When you do manage to hit a better shot, he stares for a second before pretending to be unimpressed. “Eh. Not bad. Lucky swing.”

• If you lose the competition, Steve is supportive and careful not to make you feel bad. He reassures you that you just need more practice and you’re doing better than he was when he started. If you win… well let’s say Steve is conflicted between his ego and celebrating you. At first he might pout and be in disbelief but then he’d also be saying: “My baby’s a natural! You did so good!”

[gymleader]

Mingi - 미친 폼(Crazy Form) - @MuBank231201

[love4hobi]

It feels like a dream, to be honest. It’s been two days. Yesterday, I couldn’t believe that it actually happened. It didn’t feel real at all. But when I woke up this morning, my body ached all over. That’s when I realized that I really gave it my all. I finally started eating again after the performance. I can finally eat now. I couldn’t believe it.

j-hope In The Box (2023)

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face.  It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

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[gay-little-cloud]

couldnt stop myself. heres the gif set with me screaming in the middle no one asked for...............

first !!! look at him so eager to get to his room. taking his clothes off...... for what ?? whats wating for him inside like. hheheh

making sure no one was following him and still taking the precaution of covering every single place someone could spy him from. sus.

clearly hes about to do something freaky and frowned upon

and he is !!!!!! (opens secret locked mirror) (fucks himself)

im giggling,,

whats super interesting to me is that the person hes been trying to hide from and that stops him from the mirror selfcest its later revealed in the video to be also himself

and then jaehyun 2 also tries to cover the cameras so no one can see what jaehyun 1 is doing

(mv)

cant stop listening to the jolo album yall its so good but can we talk about the mv ?????

jaehyun obsessively closing all the doors and covering all the cameras, windows and even the little spaces between doors. then opening his secret mirror that had like 47 locks...... looking in the mirror and getting a nosebleed.... and its him in the mirror, his own reflexion touches him and hes so pleased ?????

[satorena]

❛ # MÉNAGE À TROIS ! ❜

ᡣ𐭩 featuring. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru

☆ warnings. explicit content. foul language. thrēēsome (mmf). getting caught in the act. ceo!satoru and secretary!reader make a comeback. jealous gojo. ceo!suguru but he’s a pervert. crēāmpie. fīngerīng. oral (f+m). backshots. afab!reader. feminine descriptions used.

ᡣ𐭩 serena's note. can be read as a stand-alone but it’s basically a continuing to unprofessionalism !

“are you—mmph, insane?!” you’re hoping your words are convincing enough to draw him back to his senses, despite them jumbling out your mouth and right into his. pressed up against the door of the empty bathroom, your legs are spread apart in favour to be supported by a strong thigh. big hands slide from your lower back to your ass, and squeeze, forcing a moan out of you. “we’re in public— we’ll get caught!”

when gojo does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects from his bottom lip to yours. he pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red as the corner of his mouth tugs into a sadistic smile, “yeah but don’t that make it more excitin’ though?”

you blink at him, the thought having already crossed your mind. you weren’t in any position to oppose as you’d even gone commando to a formal business dinner all due to your perverted boss’ orders. but a lot would be at stake here— you both could lose your jobs if caught, and you’d most likely be labelled a whore for the rest of your career. naturally, that was the last thing you wanted, and yet—

“quit overthinkin’ sweets,” you’re pulled out of your train of thought when his bulge grinds against your core. you gasp, eye lids fluttering shut as a rush of heat spreads in your gut. you feel his hands grip your waist and drag your hips forward, angling your body at a perfect position enough to force a whine out of you.

he leans forward to seal his lips with yours yet again, and you foolishly kiss him back. gojo pulls away too quickly for your liking, though his lips trail from the corner of your mouth to trail hot kisses at your jaw, to the slope of your neck. “promise we’ll be quick, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“b-but,” you stammer, head thrown back against the cold surface of the door as your fingernails claw to the fabric of his expensive blazer. you try to recollect your thoughts, perfectly aware of how risky this entire situation could be. you do not get wetter because of the idea of getting caught—no way, you’d rather blame it on the stimulation of your clit rubbing against muscly thighs. “i could lose my job! or worse, we could lose our jobs—”

“‘m not gonna let that happen.” gojo cuts you off sternly, hand leaving the dip in your waist in favour of cupping your jaw. his index raises your chin, enforcing eye contact between you both to ensure his certainty. there isn’t a shred of doubt in those cerulean orbs, gaze intensely strong as opposed to your shyer one.

the arm at your hips snake around the perimeter of your lower back to hug you snugly against him. you’re entirely at his disposition— body trapped between the door and his much larger frame towering over you, and you hate the way your chest tightens at the unreadable look on his face.

“ever.” he repeats more firmly, before planting a short kiss onto your lips. you’re taken aback from the intimacy behind the kiss, as if he really were trying to reassure you you had nothing to worry about it. he might’ve been reckless and utterly stupid, but when it mattered, he really could be reliable. “do ya trust me?”

“yes.” you answer honestly, and the grin he offers at your response confirms every shred of doubt you’d had in mind. of course you’d do this— you were as much unprofessional as he was.

“that’s my girl.” you jolt at the firm blow landed on your ass. when your lips fall into an annoyed pout, he’s quick to kiss it away, beaming at you like a child on their way to a candy store. “now go face the mirror f’me— needa apologize for not properly treating you right the last time.”

you’re sure he’s referring to your last encounter in his office when he’d decided to punish you for bad mouthing him by skipping oral, if the way he hiked your dress up to your hips, kneeled on the floor and spread your pussy lips apart said anything. you shiver from the cool air he breathes at your aching cunt, fingers gripping the ceramic sink before you.

“shitttt,” you moan, head lolling forward when you feel his tongue swipe from your clit all the way near your rear end. gojo latches his lips onto yours, and feasts like a starved man. he rotates his tongue into motions he knows will have your knees buckle the way it does, flicks it at your a swollen leaking clit, and fucks it in and out of your clenching hole. “f-fuck, satoru, oh my goddd!”

he groans loudly into your cunt, big hands gripping an asscheek each as he divulges into your core. you’re a slippery mess, and you can’t imagine how soaked his face must be by how sloppy he tugs and nibbles onto your labia, drinking up any fluid you have to offer him. he makes it nearly impossible to keep alert of any upcoming visitors— any time you attempt to regard the door, just a peek over you shoulder, he plunges his canines into the flesh of your ass and spanks at your cunt. it’s as if he wants you to completely trust and rely on his word.

“nah uh princess.” you feel the impact of the coolness of his rings against your warm folds, mixture of saliva and your juices splurting as he spanks you. you feel your thighs trembling as you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull from the pleasurable pain. “you’re offendin’ me over here. focus on me—not that damn door.” if you didn’t know any better, he was definitely pouting with a mouth full of your cunt.

how ridiculous.

“‘m just tryna w-watch out for the doo—ooohh!” his tongue finds its way to your clit and you officially give up. completely surrendering yourself to his disposition, you let your guard down and allow him to ravish you whole.

it’s proven difficult to keep your eyes on yourself as you watch your reflection through low lidded eyes— gloss smeared on your swollen lips as fat tears build at your lower lash line. your neck and chest littered in love bites, areas that are incredibly visible to the public. and under any other circumstance, you would’ve made a big fuss about it, but you simply couldn’t care with gojo’s index and middle finger pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.

you’re irresponsible and foolish, and admittedly shameful as you feel the infamous knot of arousal in your core tightening. your knees feel wobbly, and you’re moans tune into a higher pitch as you claw the marble sink. gojo reads your body language well, his pace steady as he simultaneously finger fucks your cunt while lapping at your bundle of nerves.

you shoot him a look behind your shoulders, the sight of your boss on his knees aiming to please you admittedly quickening the process, “s-satoru, fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimper, bottom lip tugged into your teeth. you remove your death claw grip on the sink in favour of carding your fingers through a set of fluffy hair.

he cocks a brow behind snowy locks, cerulean eyes peering at you with sheer intensity. he knows you’re close, could’ve guessed from how tightly you clamped down on his tongue, and he’s aiming to give you the best damn orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life because you deserve it.

it takes one, two, three jabs of his fingers at that spongy spot against your muscles for the dam to break. and it all happens too damn quickly to register—your eyelids beginning to shut close as your cunt squirts onto gojo’s face with the addition of an indifferent suguru geto at the bathroom door—

wait. wait wait wait.

your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as you’re quickly drawn back into reality, “oh shittttt— shit! w-wait, toru, hol’on a second ‘m— he’s right there— fuckin’ hell!”

it’s like he’s doing it to fuck with you, deliberately ignoring your pleas as he swirls his tongue deeper into your high. it takes a forceful grab of your fingers at his scalp to remove him away from your cunt, and even that makes him moan.

his skin is botched red and glistening wet in your arousal, a childish pout resting on his shiny lips. he looks like a child who you’ve confiscated his jar of cookies for overeating, “what’s the rush, princess? y’re kinda killin’ me here, ‘m not done with you just yet.”

“so is she the girl?” geto shuts the door behind him, back resting against the flat surface. he cocks his head to the side and presents his infamous smile— the one you’ve seen briefly in the hallways as you passed by him, on your way out of your boss’ office.

“hmm?” gojo tilts his head to the intruding voice, and when his eyes fall onto his colleague, he lazily shrugs his shoulders, as if his appearance had been the most natural thing. “oh, suguru—what’re you doin’ here?”

“they’ve sent me to come find you both as the closing speech is soon commencing,” geto pushes himself off the door and takes long strides towards you both. “though i did have my suspicions— turns out i was right. satoru, you fuckin’ whore.”

your heart beat wildly against your chest. your mind raced a mile a minute, thoughts in turmoil as you fought between the fear that settled im your gut from being caught by another worker but simultaneously feeling your cunt ache at getting caught by another worker.

“heyyy, that’s fuckin’ rude,” gojo squints his eyes at his friend, a firm hand raising to spank your ass. you jolt from the impact as you squeal, your face heating in embarrassment at the situation. “she isn’t the girl, she’s my girl. there’s a difference and you oughta learn it.”

geto waves a hand around as if to dismiss his complaints. “yeah yeah, sure.” the ravenette stops before you, and for the first time you notice just how much tall he is too. a large frame sitting in an expensive tuxedo towering over your bent form, leaning forward to sit at an eye-level with you.

your lips part, as if to weakly defend yourself from the shameful situation you’ve found yourself in, but before words can escape your throat, you feel his knuckles grazing along the slope of your jawline. the gentle touch begins at your jaw and trails down to your chin, where the pad of his thumb then fondles at the corner of your mouth.

there’s a hypnotic look in his eyes— a seductive gaze stuck in the endless pools of purple as he stares you down. despite still being clothed, you feel naked beneath his gaze, and yet you can’t find yourself looking away, even when he hooks his thumb into your mouth.

“hi beautiful. mind tellin’ me your name?” geto asks, the melody of his voice so honeyed that you can’t help the automatic response you give him. he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your lips and swiping the wet digit against your bottom lip.

“gorgeous name for a gorgeous beholder,” you’ve heard that line before, most likely from your boss, and if it ever came out corny then, then it certainly didn’t feel corny now. “tell me y/n, has satoru taken care of you properly?”

gojo interrupts, taken aback by the nerve of his friend’s assumption of him. “what— of course i have! who do you take me for?” you can hear the whine through his words, though you were still entirely stuck in a trance by the man before you. “baby, tell ‘im i took good care of ya!”

“mind if i take a look?” geto cocks his head to the side, the tip of his nose grazing yours. blinking, you suddenly realized the proximity of the man before you, warm breath fanning above the dip of your cupid’s bow. “promise i won’t take too long. feel free to say no.”

and rationally speaking, you should’ve said no. you should’ve taken the outing and tell him it was unprofessional and entirely risky since you’d already gotten caught by him, and had it been any other worker, you would’ve surely been black balled for the rest of your career days. and yet, the way his touches felt comforting and safe, fleeting from the back of your neck down to your arms and chest, another around your torso—

oh fuck it. “yeah, g-go ahead.” you nod instead, your mind telling you one thing but your pussy telling you another.

“whaaaaat?! y/n!” gojo complains, but geto’s quick to smile at you, going as far as calling you a ‘good girl’ before quickly shoving gojo out of the way. he crouches down as gojo rises to his full height, one hand holding onto your cheek and spreading it as the other grips onto the back of your thigh.

you suddenly feel very aware of the situation at hand, and lower your head in shame, teeth nibbling onto your bottom lip. you feel like a slut— your pussy casually being inspected by another high figure at your workplace, meanwhile your boss leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.

“not bad satoru.” geto teasingly praises his friend, the grip on your cheek spreading the flesh further apart, as your sticky cunt squelches in result. your lips then follow suit as they spread, and geto abandons the hold on your thigh in favour of swiping his thumb to collect all of your juices, before popping it in his mouth. “mmhm, she’s all wet and sweet too. can’t believe you were holdin’ out on me man. i feel betrayed.”

“ever considered the fact i don’t want to share her with anyone? much less you?” gojo retaliates, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside you. your brows furrow at his words, eyes following his steps before he plants himself at your side.

geto chuckles, an sleek eyebrow raising up, “oh?”

gojo ignores his friend in favour of directing his attention towards you, pushing your hair away from your face and behind your ear. you blink at him through thick lashes, tilting your head into the warmth of his palm at your cheek, “if you don’t want this at any time, just lemme know and i’ll kick his ass, yeah?”

“wait.” you hold onto the wrist near your face, and his blue eyes follow the point of contact before returning to your eyes. you suddenly feel bashful as he stares at you as if you were the only girl in the world. “wanna suck you off too. . . y’know, as a payment for earlier.”

“yeah?” his smirk returns to his face, fiddling with a piece of your hair between his fingers. you roll your eyes despite the smile that crept at your own lips. “i dunno sweets, it’s startin’ to sound like you’re in love with me or somethin’.”

“not even in your wildest dreams, satoru.” you scoff, grabbing the hand that played with your hair to rest it above the mounds of your chest. the fleeting touch of his fingers against your perky buds through the thin material of your dress has you humming in pleasure. you watch as his eyes light up like a child on christmas day, the smirk on his lips stretched even wider as he cups onto your sensitive flesh.

gojo pushes the material of your dress aside to free your tits, watching the recoil as your bud comes to contact with cooler air and instantly stiffens. “oh come on—you can admit it princess, y’know i won’t hold it against you.”

you lick your lips, “give me a break toru— hngh, fuck!”

“oops, my hand slipped.” geto comments, running his fingers up and down the entrance of your folds. you can tell by the sound of his voice that it was definitely not an accident, as he dips his fingers in and out of your cunt, drawing out moans from you.

you fail to see how gojo frowns, a bitter look on his face as his best friend snatches your attention away from him. it’s soon replaced by admiration when your face contorts into that beautiful look you make whenever you’re completely over washed with pleasure— and even if it isn’t him offering you that euphoric feeling, he feels his cock twitch in his slacks regardless.

“toruuuu,” you call out his name, your gaze unfocused as you stare him up with doe eyes. you watch as he gulps, completely enamoured by you. “whip it out already, need it in my mouth.”

you giggle as he wastes no time, fumbling with the belt at his slacks before dropping them to his knees. he pulls out his cock from his dampened briefs, dick standing tall in arousal. veins decorated the sensitive skin all over, his mushroom tip a raging red as it dribbled pre cum. you could feel your mouth salivate at the look of his dick alone, balls hanging heavily full of cum.

he tightens his fist around the perimeter of his cock, dragging it down from the base all the way up to his tip, a guttural moan heaving from deep in his chest. he’s taunting you, and you shamefully feel your cunt dampen at his wanton sounds, “ngh, you ready baby?”

from behind you, you hear geto’s slacks also fall down to his ankles as he pumps his own hardness right against the cleft of your reddened cheek. he taps the tip of his dick against your soft flesh, watching the recoil of your ass bouncing on his cock, panting heavily as his words come out breathily, “you—shit, good to go, y/n?”

you nod eagerly, legs spreading for stability as you bend your upper body forward. your hands grip around the firm muscle of gojo’s thighs, and your nose nuzzles in the bush of snowy pubes, his musk clouding over your senses in a familiar way. your tongue lolls out as it rolls over the sensitive skin of his ballsack and sucks, and gojo whines, hand immediately flying to the back of your head to grip at your hair tightly.

you can feel the tip of geto’s dick pushing past your first ring of muscle, and you attempt to relax the muscles of your body at the intense intrusion of his penetration. he’s fucking girthy— much thicker than gojo, though not as lengthier. he’s stretching you out in ways that has your limbs liquify in heat, fingernails clawing deeper into gojo’s pale skin.

“fuck, shit, you gotta loosen up f’me baby— you’re too tight,” geto grunts, hands gripping tightly at your waist as he lurches forward. your stomach tightens in lust as your thighs tremble, the intrusion of his cock balls deep in your cunt melting your brain. he’d just bottom out, and you already felt on cloud nine.

“feel s’good, ngh fuckkk—mmph!” your mouth is suddenly full, the familiar taste of saltiness resting on the pallets of your tongue. you hear gojo above you moan pathetically, hips already rutting desperately into the warmth cave of your mouth.

you’ve sucked him off plenty before and so you know just how he likes it— sloppy and tight. you hollow your cheeks and stay mindful of your teeth, as you relax your throat muscles and let him work his magic.

“there’s my good girl, fuck yeah— y’know jus’ how i love it, dontcha?” gojo smiles down at you, thumb grazing at the dent in your cheek. he drags his thumb over the outline of his cock against your face, “what a fuckin’ beauty, shit, keep doin’ great for me, hnghhh, ‘m gonna bust soon.”

“already?” geto teases, thrusts languid as they match the pace of his friend’s. his hips meet the curve of your ass in hypnotic bounces as your ass ripples off his pelvis, and gojo’s quick to roll his eyes.

“fuck you,” it’s meant to come off as an insult but when you take him even further down, a gag tightening around the length of his cock, it trails off into a desperate moan.

“no thanks, ‘ve got your pretty little secretary here.” geto hisses when your pussy clamps down on his cock. he feels sweat begin to collect at his hairline, and focuses on the grip of your folds latching at his dick desperately.

you feel a firm blow at your ass cheeks, your muffled whines echoing in the room at the stinging pleasure. you attempt to run away from the impaling dick in your stomach, but you feel geto’s hands grab at your hips, stabilizing your limp body before a hand rises up and pushes your back into a curve.

“and where do you think y’re goin’?” geto tuts, hips angling at a new position, one that draws a broken mewl from your sore throat. every moan resonates against the dick stuffed in your mouth, and the sounds travel from gojo’s tip all the way to his stomach, as he feels his balls tighten.

“oh god baby, y’can’t do that to me!” gojo mewls, matted locks glued to his forehead from excessive sweat. you feel his droplets trickle down to your forehead, dribbling down your face and combining in the mixture of fluids leaking from your lips.

you feel his dick twitching in your mouth, a telltale that he’s bound to bust his load in no time. you release a hold from his thigh to cup at his balls, gently fondling with the sack as you bob your head forward to match his pace. saliva pools from the corner of your mouth and dribbles down your chin to the floor.

geto leans forward, chest pressed against the arch of your back. his breath is warm and tickles at the column of your hickey-littered neck, and the stretch of his girthy cock spreading the tight muscles of your rim has your stomach knotting in foreign pleasure.

his hand creeps in between your thighs, fingers toying with your aching clit as his lips graze at the shell of your ear, “love havin’ this clit of yours played with?” he purrs in your ear, lips ghosting over the goosebumps of your skin, and despite being gagged, you nod your head frantically in response. he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside your cunt, grinding his hips and rubbing his cock into areas you had yet to explore. “such a good slut f’me, ain’t that right?”

“for me– ngh, me too!” gojo argues childishly, quivery pink lips falling into a pout. he runs the pad of his thumb against your cheek, hooking his fingertip at the corner of your lips, thus painfully widening the hole of your mouth.

tears quickly build up at your lash line, vision blurring when you feel geto pull back up, landing blow after blow on the planes of your ass. the harsh impacts and rough thrusts has your backside ricochetting against his pelvis, your pussy clenching uncontrollably. the sensation was one that left you speechless– besides gojo’s lengthy cock occupying your throat. it was most definitely an uncomfortable stretch, but every now and then, when you’d feel the coolness of geto’s rings trailing down your inner thighs and the pad of his fingers soothing the ache at your clit, it easily subsided into pleasure.

“shitttt, just wan’ stay in your mouth forever,” gojo whines loudly, head thrown back with his brows cinched. he’s completely forgotten about your own comfort, fucking into your mouth for the sake of his own pleasure. you watch as his abs contract, chest heaving deeply, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

another gag rips out of your mouth when gojo abruptly plows into your mouth, your nose all the way to his snowy white pubic hairs. he moans all prettily, hand clutching tightly at your hair at the back of your head, before pulling away and repeating the same motions, “hell yeah baby– just like that, fuck.”

with tears now streaking down your cheeks, your mouth salivates uncontrollably as you clamp down on suguru’s cock, balls heavy with cum as they slap against your clit.

“shit—fuck, hold on,” geto hisses, thrown off by gojo’s sudden pace. purple orbs trail at the curve of your back all the way up to your bobbing head, when he’s hit with an idea. you fail to see it, but the smirk he shoots at his best friend is enough to telltale. you can only realise they’re up to no good too late, when gojo mirrors the smirk before him.

“match my rhythm and watch how quick she’ll cum.”

and embarrassingly enough, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten when you’re pounded into roughly from behind. their pace now much quicker and rougher, your broken moans turn into gargles around gojo’s shaft, and in an attempt to run away from the overwhelmingly thrusts stretching at your pussy, you instinctively move forward, only to choke around a twitching dick. you then realise their plan, when you try to pull away from the mushroom tip stroking at your uvula and wind up back into geto’s possession, balls deep in your cunt.

well shit.

they treat your body as if it were a fleshlight– a mere toy for their own pleasure, and you couldn’t deny the objectification of your body at their dispense had your body tense in straight arousal. the bulge in your throat and musky scent of gojo’s bush overwhelming your senses, and the thickness of geto’s shaft tearing your hole apart had you coming undone quicker than you’d like to admit.

“oh yeahhh,” geto whistles, never letting up his pounding as you leak through your pussy like a faucet. “look at that pussy go– clenchin’ down on me like a whore. y’fuckin’ love it when we slut you out like this, hm? our very own cumdump– shit, gonna fill you up nice ‘n good.”

“that’s my pretty baby— mmhm, swallow every last drop, mkay?” you feel your mouth being filled with warm spurts of cum, thick ropes shooting down your throat as gojo groans. “s’good for princesses like you, fuckkk, better open wide.”

✧.*

“i’m. . . gonna get goin’ now. you two stay back.” you tug at your dress, fixing your appearance with a nod before exiting the bathroom.

the two friends are left in the space as they run water against the heat of the skin, cleaning up any trace of mess they’ve left behind. the silence is incredibly loud, despite the faucet leaking water into the sink.

“she’s cute. i see why you like her.” geto comments, rolling his sleeves up before pumping his hands full of soap. he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “definitely piques interest.”

“suguru.” gojo deadpans, staring him down through the reflection of the mirror. geto looks up and returns the stare, though the crease of his cheeks through his smile sets gojo off wrongly. he can tell what his friend is thinking, and he doesn’t want to play this game— not with you.

“don’t. . . please. just don’t.” gojo breathes out, chest rising up and down. he doesn’t realize his fists are balled tight, nor that there’s a frown on his face. “she’s different, and i really like her. if you consider yourself my friend, you won’t.”

geto eyes him through slanted eyes, washing off the suds of soap on his palms before turning off the tap. every second passes by agonizingly slow for gojo as he watches his friend move. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his chest uncharacteristically tight.

he walks to the paper towel dispenser, before drying his hands and shoving the paper down the garbage. gojo’s eyes trail his every move yet again.

finally, purple eyes meet his and they curve into that infamous smile— one that could send chills down your spine if not on his good side.

“yeah, i got you.”

thank you @nantoji for beta reading 🙂‍↕️.

[ode2cheol]

ꪮ౿ i’ll do it for you

➺ your boyfriend offers to help you dry and brush your hair before bed

➺ wc around 750 ,, this is self indulgent sorta kinda? warnings, none just fluff

“want me to do it for you?”

you looked up at the mirror seeing the reflection of your boyfriend leaning against the bedroom doorframe while sporting an amused grin.

“it’s alright, cheol. i’ve got it.” you shook your head, begrudgingly leaning over in the vanity chair to plug your hairdryer in.

drying your hair at night was tedious which is why you hated it so much. seungcheol learnt this pretty early on in your relationship after you spent the night at his place, which is now the both of yours’, for the first time.

“let me.” you felt a presence behind you, a comforting one because that’s what seungcheol is to you - comfort. he reached over, gently taking the hairdryer from your hands and putting it to the medium heat setting because, while you wished you could put it to the lowest and avoid heat damage to your hair, it was unbearable before bed.

seungcheol gently parted your hair, taking care in drying your hair and handling the strands in the most delicate way that should be foreign to someone who was so strong.

“thanks baby.” you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “you really don’t have to though.”

seungcheol huffed in amusement. “you’re saying that but i feel like you’d ignore me all night if i stopped.”

“you’re making me seem like i’m always petty.” you chuckled, looking at him through the mirror. he was exaggerating, you knew he never meant any of the teasing insults he threw at you.

“you’re beautiful like this,” he started, sighing while looking between your reflection and the top of your head, “all tired and stuff.”

“you have a way with words.” you giggled teasingly, “thank you though, you’re too nice to me sometimes. i’ll get a big head because of you.”

he scoffed and took a break from drying your hair to pinch your arm lightly, almost like he was insulted at the idea that you being complimented too much could ever be bad. if it was up to seungcheol, you’d walk around thinking you were the prettiest thing on earth because that’s what he saw you as, since the minute he first met you.

“there’s no such thing as ‘being too nice’, idiot. i’m your boyfriend.” seungcheol murmured, turning the hairdryer off and grabbing your comb to start brushing your now dry hair.

“my boyfriend who calls me an idiot.” you feigned offence, wincing slightly when he tugged at a more stubborn knot and smiling when he rubbed your scalp gently while whispering a soft apology.

“where’s that oil you usually use?” you looked up at his question, wordlessly reaching for the hair oil that sat on the vanity and handing it to him. it was almost empty now. seungcheol had gotten it for you about a year ago from japan, you’d have to order it again later.

your boyfriend rubbed a little into his hand then started rubbing it into your hair. you laughed at the motions, he was getting it everywhere and nowhere all at once, looking down at you through the glass with a gummy smile at your laughter.

he picked the comb up again, brushing through your hair more carefully now and blinked up at your reflection proudly when he combed through all the knots.

“i could be a hairstylist,” he joked, braiding your hair in something that was messy and would definitely fall apart later but you didn’t have the heart to point it out. “i’ll do the members’ hair for the next comeback.”

“i think jihoon’ll run out of the dressing room before you get the chance, babe.” you chuckled, melting when he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“maybe but that won’t stop me. now up, let’s go to bed.” he gently ushered you away from the vanity and onto the bed, ignoring your protests of needing to put your skincare on.

“all of that slimy stuff won’t do a thing anyway.” he pouted, burying his head in your neck and laying over you while half heartedly pulling the blanket over your bodies.

“says the model for a skincare brand.” you scoffed lighthearted, bringing your hand up to scratch his scalp in a way he always liked.

“shut up and go to bed, darling.” he drawled, chuckling tiredly against your skin. seungcheol lifted his head and kissed your lips softly, whispering when he pulled back “i love you.”

“i love you too, cheol.” you smiled, cuddling closer to the warmth of his body.

[entitled-fangirl]

Stubborn man.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan returns from a hunt, eager to see his wife. But he's hiding something from her.

Warnings: blood, making out, pain, talks about sex, I think that's it?

A/n: Based on an ask!!! Also... I need more Tom Taylor gifs RIGHT NOW or I'll cry. So fancast Cregan might make a comeback in the gifs

Masterlist

...............................................

She felt herself flinch when strong hands gripped her waist from behind and a kiss was placed on the back of her neck. 

"Did you miss me, my heart?" A deep voice whispered in her ear.

She relaxed at the sound, her body instinctively giving in to the hands that held her, "Quite terribly."

He grinned and playfully nipped at her ear, "Good, because I have as well."

She spun in his hold, now facing him. She ran her hands over his clothed chest and fiddled with his cloak, "The hunt was successful, I assume?"

"Three elks and a boar," he said with a hint of pride, "Should last Winterfell a while enough."

"You're very brave, my lord," she smiled with a teasing tone. "Facing a boar is quite a formidable task."

"Aye," he agrees. "But so is facing the Warden of the North, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're right," She said as he tugged on his cloak to pull his face closer to hers. "The boar didn't stand a chance."

A confident aura overcame the lord and he leaned further down and connected their lips.

She let out a soft groan, savoring the feeling of him after such a long absence.

His arms moved up and around her back to pull her to him.

Her chest collided with his and only then did Cregan falter.

She pulled away, disconnecting their lips as she gave him a small frown. "Cregan?"

His breath had quickened and his face paled, but he was eagerly changing the subject, "I've only missed you is all." He leaned in again.

As his lips brushed hers, she pulled away again as her worry doubled, "Stop. Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Something is clearly bothering you," she pointed out. "Tell me."

His hands wandered up to her biceps, gripping her earnestly, as if trying to convince her, "I am just fine. I only wish to spend time with my wife. Is that a crime?"

"You and I both know it's not, but there's something you're not telling me."

They stared at one another, seeing who would break first. Finally, he did with a sigh. "It is nothing, I assure you."

"You're sure?" She asked in worry.

"I am." 

She stared at him for a while before nodding, deciding to believe him. "Very well. I dare say I would enjoy some time with my lord husband as well."

He grinned, "I can arrange that." 

She leaned forward and met his lips, hands beginning to wander. 

He led her backwards to the bed, careful to not lead her astray. She blindly let him, too caught him in his touch to care where he took her.

She fell onto the bed and Cregan leaned down and began to kiss down her clothed stomach.

"Will you let me indulge in what I've missed?" He asked softly.

She let out a breath at his admission. 

Watching her reaction closely, he pulled the skirt of her dress up.

As his fingers grazed her bare thigh, she moaned out, "I don't think I can wait. I need you."

He chuckled, "So eager for me."

She sat up to entice him to loom over her, but she noticed that the color still hadn't returned to his cheeks. "Are you cold?"

He frowned, clearly confused at the question, "What? No."

"You're pale. Cregan, please." She reached under his cloak to his chest. 

He reached out to grip her wrists, but it was too late.

Her hands pulled back with red staining her palms. Her eyes widened in horror. "W…What-"

"-Look at me." He grabbed her face with both hands. "I am fine."

"You're hardly-"

His eyes showed the purely determined tone to his voice, "I am fine."

Her breath began to become shorter and her voice softened, "You… you've seen the maester?"

"I don't need the maester. I just need you," he said as he leaned in again.

She turned her head as she denied his wishes. "You're injured."

He sighed and pulled away from her. "It… it is just a scratch."

She stared down at her hands that now had his blood on them. Her fingers were shaky, and her voice was soft, "…you're injured."

He panicked when she began to only repeat her worry. "Dear wife-"

She stood and smoothed her dress out in a rush, "I'll get the maester."

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His face twisted in a wince when the movement caused pain to shoot through his body.

She paused. "Cregan."

He forced himself to overcome the pain. Determination ran through his eyes as he looked up at her. "I. Am Fine."

She looked at his hand on her wrist, then back to him. "Even wolves show weakness on occasion."

It was clear that he took her words to heart because his eyes softened and his grip on her loosened. 

She slowly pulled her hand away and moved to the cabinet, pulling out bandages and cloths

Cregan watched in silence.

She set them onto the bed softly before leaving the room. She returned with a small basin of water. "Undress."

His head tilted. "Alright."

He pulled his cloak off, and only then did she notice how badly he was injured. 

His tunic was soaked in blood across his chest. 

It felt as if she had been dunked in cold water. Panic settled into her gut.

Cregan reached down to the bottom of the tunic, beginning to slowly peel it away from the injury. It clearly hurt him. His jaw was clenched to the point she worried for his teeth.

"Let me," she offered, pulling it the rest of the way off of him and throwing it to the side. 

A long cut ran down his chest, blood staining his skin. Cregan didn't bother to look at it. He kept his eyes on her and her alone.

She forced him to sit on the bed and sat down as well, reaching down to the cut. Her fingers grazed it lightly, earning a hiss from him. "Sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head as he studied her face, "'s fine."

"Get comfortable, my love," she finally forced.

He grunted in acknowledgement and pushed himself against the headboard.

She stood and grabbed the basin, setting it on the nightstand. The woman got up on the bed, throwing her leg over him to straddle him. 

If he wasn't in such pain, the night would've went much differently.

She leaned over and wet a cloth, beginning to gently run it over the cut to clean it. 

Cregan rested his head back against the headboard. His gaze stayed on her face.

"I don't understand why you didn't say something sooner," she whispered as she focused on healing her husband.

His eyes moved down to her lips, "I've had worse."

"How did it happen?" She pressed down unintentionally, and he hissed again. She muttered an apology.

"The boar," was all he said. He tried to read her expression, but it was hard when she wasn't looking at him. One of his hands moved to her waist.

"Did you face it yourself?" She asked incredulously.

"It caught us off guard is all."

She hummed as she grabbed a new cloth and continued to clean him with gentle hands.

His thumb rubbed across her waist comfortingly. "You're angry."

"Not angry," she sighed. "Only worried." Once the cut was clean, she began to slowly rub the cloth across his shoulders and up his neck, cleaning the dirt from the rest of him. 

The feeling made him close his eyes, "I do hope you'll forgive me then."

She shook her head, "You haven't asked for it yet."

He reached up with his free hand and stopped her motions. "Forgive me." His eyes studied her intensely, his voice serious.

She finally let out a sigh and a hint of a smile came to her. "You're a foolish man."

"I am," he admitted.

She took the cloth with one hand and held his chin with the other, cleaning the dirt off of his face. Their proximity brought a soft blush to her cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you."

His eyes moved to her lips again and he began to slowly lean in. "You don't have to."

"Promise me something," she whispered.

He nodded, "Anything."

"You'll not put your health aside to appear strong to me."

"I am the Warden of the North-"

She leaned away and held his chin in a tight grip. "Not here. You're my husband, Cregan."

A little grin came across his lips. "I promise."

She leaned forward and connected their lips. 

His hands found her waist, holding her in a vice grip as he pulled her as close as possible. She was careful to avoid the cut on his chest as her hands wandered over him. 

He pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck, "I'm a blessed man."

She let out a content hum. "Are you? You have a gash in your chest. I hardly see-"

"-I have you." His teeth nipped at a sensitive spot, soothing it with his tongue. 

Her eyes began to close in bliss as she gave in to his touch. She caught herself, and forced her eyes open. "I haven't finished bandaging you."

He continued his movements, "You'll have time later."

"If you want anything from me, you must let me finish, you stubborn man."

He pulled away at that to look up and her. "Fierce girl."

She grinned and reached over to the bandages she had gathered. She wrapped them around him, "I forgive you."

His large hand came up to grab her jaw gently and force her to look him in the eye. "I will not take it for granted. Thank you."

"Do this again and I'll gut you myself."

A chuckle came from his throat. "I have no doubts of that." He pulled her face to his and his voice lowered, "I'll have to be extra cautious, won't I?"

"Or perhaps… don't leave at all," her soft voice suggested.

"Oh, my girl," he grinned. "When you finish this bandage, we are not leaving this room for a long while."

A bright red hue came to her cheeks.

............................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

@cookielovesbook-akie

[starsenha]

COLLAB STAGE / Y.J

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!idol!reader x dom!idol!jungwon (ft. Lesserafim Yunjin)

Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), harddom!jungwon, hair pulling, fingering, oral (m. receiving), semi-public sex, overstimulation, rough, slight dacryphilia, mirror sex, aftercare, dry humping, petnames (sweetheart, baby...), reader is a year older than jungwon (so he calls her noona)

Word count ◊ 6.7k

Summary ◊ You and Jungwon were friends since your trainee days, you've always seen him as a little brother, until this collaboration you had to with him for your Summer Gayo Daejeon performance

a/n: not proofread, enjoy!

You stepped out of the sleek, black car provided by Hybe Entertainment, the cool morning air brushing against your face as you headed toward the familiar studio entrance. The tall building loomed above you, your company logo glinting in the sunlight. As you entered the lobby, you were greeted by the usual bustle of staff and trainees, everyone busy with their own schedules.

“Good morning!” you called out to a few familiar faces, receiving nods and smiles in return. The anticipation bubbled in your chest as you reached the designated practice room. Today was pretty special. The CEO had chosen you to do a collaboration stage with a member of Enhypen for the upcoming SBS Gayo Daejeon performance. And you were so happy that that member was Jungwon. You used to train together back in the day. He was only a year younger than you, and you were always pretty close. Plus, your groups debuted around the same time. But, what you did not know, was that Jungwon always kinda had a crush on you, and he’s been trying to make you see him differently for months now. 

Pushing open the door to the studio, you saw him already there, stretching on the floor. His eyes lit up when he noticed you, and he jumped to his feet with a wide grin.

“Noona!” Jungwon called out, his youthful enthusiasm infectious.

“Won! You’re here early,” you said, smiling back as you dropped your bag on the bench and joined him in stretching.

“I was too excited to sleep much,” he admitted with a chuckle. “This is going to be so much fun. I can’t believe we finally get to do this.”

“I know! I’ve been looking forward to it too,” you replied. “It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to work on something together.”

As you both chatted and caught up, the door swung open again, and the choreographer, Ji-eun, walked in. She was a renowned figure in the industry, known for her intricate and dynamic hip-hop routines. You had already worked with her, as she created the choreography for your group’s last comeback.

“Good morning, everyone!” Ji-eun greeted, her energy palpable. “Are you two ready to work?”

“Yes!” you and Jungwon responded in unison, exchanging amused glances.

Ji-eun clapped her hands together, signaling the start of the session. “Great. Let’s get started with the basics of the routine. It’s a hip-hop piece with a lot of sharp movements and synchronization. I need you both to bring your A-game.”

You and Jungwon nodded, focusing as Ji-eun demonstrated the initial steps. The beat of the music pulsed through the room, and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm. Jungwon mirrored your movements perfectly, his natural talent shining through.

“Good, good! Now, let’s add some more complexity,” Ji-eun said, moving into the next sequence. The steps were fast and challenging, requiring both agility and precision.

As the session progressed, Ji-eun occasionally stopped to give pointers, adjusting your posture or tweaking a movement here and there. The routine was demanding, but you relished the challenge. You and Jungwon fell into an easy rhythm, your movements syncing effortlessly.

“Perfect! That’s what I’m talking about,” Ji-eun praised after another run-through. “You two have great chemistry. This stage is going to be amazing.”

Jungwon grinned at you, wiping sweat from his brow with his towel. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

“We always have,” you agreed, returning his smile. “Remember those practice sessions back when we were trainees? We were always trying to outdo each other.”

“Yeah, and you always won,” he laughed, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Not always,” you corrected him. “But most of the time, yes.”

You saw Jungwon roll his eyes playfully and open his mouth to retort, but Ji-eun called for another run-through. You threw yourself back into the routine, your body moving instinctively to the beat.

An hour and a half flew by in a blur of music and movement. By the time Ji-eun finally called for a break, you were both exhausted but exhilarated.

“Take fifteen, and then we’ll do a full run-through with the music,” Ji-eun instructed, heading out to take a call.

You collapsed onto the floor, stretching out your legs. Jungwon flopped down beside you, panting lightly.

“This is going to be epic,” he said between breaths.

“Definitely,” you agreed. “We’ll show everyone what Jokerz and Enhypen can do together.”

Jungwon’s expression softened as he looked at you, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

Ji-eun returned to the studio and gave you both some final pointers before she left you to rehearse on your own. The studio was buzzing with the high-energy choreography you had been perfecting all morning.

“Okay, you two, I think you’ve got a good handle on this,” Ji-eun said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll leave you to practice on your own for a bit. Just remember to keep the energy up and stay in sync.”

“Got it!” you and Jungwon chorused, both of you giving her a confident nod.

As Ji-eun left the room, you turned to Jungwon with a grin. “So, ready to run it again?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with determination.

You both got into position, and the music started up again. This time, without Ji-eun’s watchful eye, you found yourselves more relaxed, allowing your natural chemistry to shine through. Your movements were fluid and synchronized, feeding off each other’s energy.

“Nice move there, wonnie!” you called out mid-routine as he nailed a particularly tricky step.

“Thanks, noona! You’re killing it too!” he shot back, his smile wide.

After a few more run-throughs, you both paused for a break. You went to take your water bottle in the corner of the room, trying to do some air with your hand. 

At the corner of your eye, you saw Jungwon pulled off his hoodie, revealing a tank top underneath. You blinked, momentarily taken aback. You had always seen Jungwon as a little brother figure, but seeing the definition of his muscles was… he was so hot. You tried to ignore the unexpected flutter in your stomach as you took a sip of water. As he took his own water bottle, you watched him discretly, a pool forming in your belly. 

“Uh… you’ve been working out lately?” you said, attempting to keep your tone casual.

He glanced down at himself, then back at you with a casual shrug. “Oh, this? Yeah, I sometimes work out with the hyungs. Gotta stay in shape, you know?”

You nodded, trying to focus on the conversation and not how his tank top clung to his frame. Wow, this was new. “Makes sense. It’s just… I guess I never noticed before.”

Jungwon’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he caught the slight flush on your cheeks. “Noona, are you blushing?” he teased, flexing his arm a bit more prominently.

Your face heated up even more as you sputtered, “N-no! I’m just… it’s hot in here, that’s all.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Determined to shift the focus, you stood up and stretched. “Let’s get back to it. We’ve got to nail this routine.”

Jungwon chuckled, following your lead. “Alright, let’s do it. But don’t think I didn’t notice, noona. You were totally checking me out.”

You shot him a mock glare, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. “Focus, won. We’ve got a show to prepare for.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, still grinning. “I’m focused, don’t worry,’’ his grin transformed into a cocky smirk as he put his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants and walked up to you. 

As the music started up again, you threw yourself into the routine, trying to push aside the newfound awareness of Jungwon. But every now and then, you caught him glancing your way, that same smirk still on his lips. It was clear he enjoyed seeing you flustered, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place.

After a long and exhausting practice session, you finally made your way back to your dorm. As you opened the door, you were greeted by the familiar sight of one of your bandmate, Yunjin, lounging on the couch with her phone in hand.

“Yay, you’re back!” she exclaimed, looking up from her screen. “How was the practice with Jungwon?”

You sighed, dropping your bag by the door and collapsing onto the couch beside her. “It was… something.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What happened?”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Well, you know how I’ve always seen him as a little brother, right?”

“Yeah, of course. You’ve mentioned it a million times,” she replied, her curiosity piqued.

“Okay, so today, we were practicing this really tough hip-hop routine for Gayo Daejeon,” you began. “And Ji-eun left us alone to rehearse on our own for a bit.”

“Uh-huh, go on,” she encouraged, leaning in closer.

“Well, Jungwon took off his hoodie because it was getting hot in the studio,” you continued, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory. “And he was wearing this, like, tank top underneath. I had no idea he was that… fit.”

Yunjin’s eyes widened, and she burst into laughter. “Oh my God, you got flustered, didn’t you?”

“I mean…a little,” you admitted, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, I’ve always seen him as this cute younger brother or something. But today, he looked… argh.”

“Different how?” she pressed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You sighed, finally giving in. “He looked… so, so hot. I couldn’t stop staring, and he totally noticed!”

She laughed even harder, clutching her stomach. “This is priceless! Our ynnie has a crush on Jungwon!”

“It’s not like that!” you protested, though your blush betrayed you. “I was just… surprised. I didn’t expect him to have grown up so much.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, still giggling.

“Stop teasing me, Unnie,” you groaned, playfully shoving her. “I’m just trying to process it. I mean, he’s always been like a brother to me, and now suddenly, he’s this attractive guy. How did that even happen?”

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad,” Yunjin teased, nudging you with her elbow. “But seriously, it’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s time to see him in a new light.”

You sighed, leaning back on the couch. “I don’t know. It’s just… really confusing. I’ve always been so sure of our dynamic, and now it feels like everything’s shifted. It doesn’t feel…platonic anymore.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Feelings can be complicated, especially when someone you’ve known for a long time changes. Just take it one step at a time and see where things go.”

“Thanks, Unnie,” you said, grateful for her understanding. “I guess I’ll just have to see how things play out during this collaboration.”

“It’s just a week and a half away, you’ll be fine. And in the meantime, try not to get too distracted by his muscles,” Hana added with a wink, causing you to throw a pillow in her direction, one she dodged as she got up from the couch and sprinted to the kitchen. 

“I hate you,” you said, loud enough so she could hear you. 

As the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but replay the events of the day in your mind. Seeing Jungwon in a new light was certainly unexpected, but maybe Hana was right. 

The next day, you arrived at the practice studio a bit early, hoping to get some stretches in before Jungwon showed up. As you rolled out your yoga mat and began your stretches, the door opened, and Jungwon walked in, his demeanor radiating confidence.

"Morning, noona," Jungwon greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Morning, wonnie," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Ready for today?"

"Absolutely," he said, dropping his bag and joining you on the floor. He started stretching beside you, his movements fluid and relaxed.

You chuckled nervously. "We need to nail this routine."

As you both warmed up, the studio felt smaller, the air charged with an unspoken tension. Jungwon seemed more confident, and his movements were more assured. And you couldn’t help but feel turned on by his confidence. Focus, yn. Stop thinking about that. When you began practicing the routine, his eyes never left you, making you hyper-aware of his presence.

“Alright, let’s take it from the top,” you said, hoping to focus on the choreography and not on the way his tank top accentuated his toned arms. Of course, he had to wear a tank top again. A white one this time. 

The music started, and you moved in sync, your bodies effortlessly flowing through the steps. But every time Jungwon’s eyes met yours, you felt your concentration waver. He seemed to notice, and his smirk grew more pronounced.

“Come on, noona, keep up,” he teased, executing a particularly sharp move with ease.

“I’m keeping up just fine,” you shot back, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

As the routine progressed, Jungwon's playful teasing only intensified. During a particularly close part of the choreography, where you had to mirror each other's movements, he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear.

“You’re doing great, noona,” he whispered, his voice low and smooth.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you missed a step, stumbling slightly. “Th-thanks,” you managed to stammer, trying to regain your composure.

He pulled back, grinning. “What’s wrong? You seem a bit distracted.”

“Just focused on getting the steps right,” you lied, hoping he couldn’t see through your facade.

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced but not pushing it further.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus. The routine was intricate, demanding your full attention, but Jungwon's newfound confidence made it increasingly difficult. He moved with a grace and assurance that was hard to ignore, and his constant teasing only added to your distraction. 

You couldn’t continue like that, or else you might burst. You never noticed how handsome he was or how hot he looked when he was focused on something. But since yesterday, that was the only thing you could think about. 

During a break, you sat down to catch your breath, wiping sweat from your forehead. Jungwon plopped down beside you, a bottle of water in hand.

“Here,” he said, offering you the bottle. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking it and drinking gratefully. “You’re really on fire today. Did you have an extra shot of coffee this morning or something?”

He laughed, leaning back on his hands. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you flustered.”

You nearly choked on your water, coughing slightly. “I-I’m not flustered.”

“Sure you’re not,” he said, his smirk widening. “It’s okay, noona. It’s kind of cute.”

Your face burned, and you looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why did your heart skip a bit when he said that? The way he was looking at you, with his playful smirk and his glimmering eyes. You should scold him, he was younger than you, how could he called you ‘’cute’’.  You hated that you actually liked it. 

You cleared your throat, your cheeks still red and got up from the ground. ‘’Uh… we should get back to practice ‘’

“Of course,” he agreed, but the playful glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t done teasing.

As you both resumed practice, Jungwon continued to push your buttons, his confidence making him bolder. During a particularly challenging sequence, he placed his hands on your waist to guide you into the correct position, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“There,” he said softly, his breath warm against your neck. “Perfect.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his closeness. “Thanks,” you murmured, stepping away to put some distance between you. You couldn’t be cphysically close ot him right now. Not outside of the chores. 

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Anytime, noona.”

By the end of the session, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Jungwon’s confident teasing had left you more flustered than you cared to admit, and focusing on the routine had been a constant struggle.

“Good work today,” Jungwon said as you both gathered your things. “We’re getting better.”

“Yeah, we are,” you agreed, forcing a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving you a wink. “I can’t wait.”

As you left the studio, you couldn’t help but replay the day’s events in your mind. As the days unfolded, you avoided him the best you could. After practices, you always came up with an excuse whenever he asked if you wanted to grab something to eat or drink. But most of all, you avoided looking into his eyes. His beautiful and hypnotizing eyes. 

Today was one of your last practices, as the Gayo Daejeon was approaching. You tried to keep your focus only on the routine, determined not to let him get to you. You couldn’t. The choreography required for you to look into his eyes, but today was clearly impossible. His hair was parted in a way to make his features appear stronger. he looked so good. Every time your eyes locked, your cheeks would heat up, and your heart could race uncontrollably. Instead, you fixed your gaze on the floor or focused on a point over his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

But Jungwon wasn’t one to miss much. After the fourth time, you avoided his eyes during the routine, he began to suspect something was up. Plus, he noticed how distant you were and how you tried to avoid him during the last few days. During a particularly close part of the choreography, where you had to face each other and mirror each other’s movements, he finally decided to confront you.

You were supposed to step into each other’s space, your faces mere inches apart. Instead of looking at him, you kept your gaze firmly on the floor, focusing on your feet.

“Look at me,” Jungwon’s voice was low but commanding. He stopped his movement and placed his fingers gently under your chin, tugging your head upwards to look at him, holding your waist wth his other hand.

You swallowed hard, your eyes reluctantly meeting his. “Why are you avoiding my eyes, noona?” he asked, his smirk widening as he saw the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“I’m not avoiding your eyes,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, his fingers still holding your chin. “You’re a terrible liar. What’s got you so flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away, but his grip, though gentle, was firm.

“Sure you’re not,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence. “Come on, noona, you can be honest with me.”

The intensity of his gaze, coupled with the proximity of his body, almost buckled your knees. “I just… I’m trying to focus,” you stammered.

He leaned in closer, matching your height, his breath warm against your lips. “And looking at me makes it hard to focus?”

You bit your lip, your mind racing for a plausible denial, but nothing came to you. The way he was looking at you and how confident he seemed made it hard for you to concentrate. “Yes,” you finally admitted, your voice barely audible.

A triumphant smile spread across his face. Before you could say anything, he closed the small distance between you, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, testing, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his other hand that was on your waist pulled you closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt like you were melting into him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with a hunger you hadn’t realized you’d been suppressing.

You both pulled away, breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see the desire in his eyes. His pupils were dilated and he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. 

Without even thinking twice about it, you grabbed the front of his tank top, pulling him back to you for another kiss, this time a lot more aggressive and forceful. Jungwon groaned against your lips, his hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. The kiss was fiery, your mouths moving in a heated dance. You both put so much force into the kiss, you were practiaclly sure your lips would have bruises on tomorrow. 

He backed you up until you felt the cool surface of the mirrored wall against your back. His hands were firm as they roamed over your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Your hands were feeling him, going from his broad shoulders to his biceps to his abs. You felt every muscle tense against your hands, and you absolutely loved it. You needed to touch him. 

“Look at you,” he murmured as his lips attached to your neck, kissing and biting it, his voice thick with desire. “So needy. You like this, don’t you?”

You gasped, feeling a shiver run down your spine. “Fuck, yes,” you whispered, the admission making your cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

His eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he pinned your hands above your head, his body pressing against yours, trapping you against the mirror. You could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants. “Say it again,” he demanded, his tone commanding.

“Yes, I like this,” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly.

Jungwon smirked, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl.’’ His hand slipped under your shirt, caressing your skin, eliciting a moan from you. He chuckled, his hand moving higher, his thumb brushing over your bra. “So desperate for my touch. Fuck, you’re perfect.’’

You bit your lip, trying to stifle another moan. “Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his thumb circling your nipple through the fabric. “Use your words, baby.”

“Please, touch me,” you begged, your voice breaking.

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand slipping under your bra to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive skin. “I love hearing you beg for me.”

You moaned, pressing into his hand, your body trembling with need. “Wonnie, I need you…”

He growled, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. “I know, baby. I know.” His free hand slid down to your thigh, lifting your right leg to wrap around his waist. “God, you’re so perfect. So responsive.” You felt his hard-on against your clothed core as he started to move a bit, causing both of you to hiss. 

You felt like you were drowning in him, every touch, every word sending you spiraling deeper into desire. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Look at you, so desperate for me. Do you know how hot you look right now?” He thrust again, a little harder this time, and you let out a small, needy whine. He smirked, his hand moving to the waistband of your sports shorts. 

In one swift motion, he slipped his hand inside, his fingers finding your core. You gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. ‘’Fuck you’re so wet for me,’’ he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? So ready to be touched.”

You moaned, unable to form coherent words, your body responding to his touch with a mind of its own. “Yes, yes, please…”

He leaned in, his lips hovering your ear, before you could feel him sink his teeth to your lobe. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” And with that, he entered one finger and started pumping it, slowly at first. He picked up the pace when he saw you responding to his moves. He quickly added another one and you couldn’t stop the moans from slipping. 

"God, you’re so tight," Jungwon murmured, his voice laced with a mix of awe and desire. "I can barely fit two fingers in."

You gasped, the sensation overwhelming as he pushed his fingers deeper inside you. The tightness and the heat around his fingers made him groan in satisfaction. "Fuck. If you’re this tight around my fingers, I don’t know how I’m gonna fit."

You moaned, the combination of his words and his rough touch driving you wild. He smirked, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing harsh circles around it. "You like that, don’t you? You like feeling my fingers inside you, stretching you."

"Yes," you breathed, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more of his touch.

His smirk widened as he pushed his fingers deeper, his pace rough and unrelenting. "Look at you, so desperate for me. So wet and tight. Oh, I’m gonna ruin you."

You whimpered, the pleasure building inside you, making it hard to think or speak. He chuckled darkly, his free hand coming up to cover your mouth as a particularly loud moan slipped out of your mouth. "Shh, we can’t have anyone hearing you, can we? Anyone could walk into the studio and see you like this, begging for my touch."

His hand muffled your moans, the pressure of his fingers inside you and the movement of his thumb on your clit pushing you closer to the edge. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You’re such a good girl, taking my fingers so well. But you’re also a dirty little thing, aren’t you? Getting off in the practice studio where anyone could see."

You nodded, tears of pleasure forming in the corners of your eyes. The combination of his praise and degradation made your body tremble, every nerve ending on fire.

"You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his voice low and commanding, as he felt your walls tightening around his fingers. ‘’Fuck, I can feel how close you are. Go ahead, come for me, but keep it quiet. Show me how good you can be."

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You bit down on his hand to muffle your cries, the intense waves of pleasure crashing over you. Jungwon continued to finger you through it, his touch relentless and rough, prolonging your release until you were a shaking, panting mess. 

When you finally came down from your high, he withdrew his fingers slowly, his eyes dark with desire and satisfaction. ‘’You’ve made such a mess, all because of my fingers."

You blushed, leaning your had against the mirror. You were completely breathless. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste amazing. I can’t wait to be inside you.’’

When you finally find some sanity left, you gently push him a bit from you and let your hands run through his abs before tugging at his shirt, signaling for him to take it off. You wanted to make him feel just as good. He took off his shirt, revealing his toned abs. 

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, his smirk reappearing as he realized your intent. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Returning the favor," you said, your voice husky with desire.

His eyes darkened with lust as you dropped to your knees in front of him, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled them down slowly, your breath hitching as you revealed more of his skin. When his boxers followed, you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. His cock was big indeed and the sight of him made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" he asked, his voice dripping with arrogance and amusement.

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his impressive length. You licked your lips, your desire evident.

"Then show me," he commanded, his tone dominant. "I want to see that pretty mouth of yours around me."

You nodded, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the tip of his hard cock. He groaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and command.

You opened your mouth, taking him in slowly, savoring the weight and feel of him on your tongue. He let out a deep groan, his hips twitching as you began to bob your head, your hand wrapping around the base to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

‘’Fuck, baby" he growled, his grip tightening in your hair. "You look so good like this.’’

You hummed around him, the vibration eliciting another groan from him. You quickened your pace, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length.

"That’s it," he praised, his voice breathless. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity of his gaze made you shiver. His dominance, the way he looked down at you with a mix of adoration and arrogance, only fueled your desire. You wanted to make him lose control, to hear him praise you more.

You deepened your efforts, taking him as deep as you could, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Jungwon’s head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. "Fuck. Your mouth feels so fucking good. So fucking perfect."

You felt a surge of pride and arousal at his words, your movements becoming more fervent. His grip in your hair tightened, guiding your movements as he thrust roughly into your mouth. "You like this, don’t you?" he asked, his voice rough. "Being on your knees for me, taking my cock like a good little slut."

You moaned around him, the degrading words sending a thrill through your body. He was pushing all the right buttons, and you loved every second of it.

"Answer me," he commanded, pulling you off him just enough so you could speak.

‘’Fuck, yes, I love it," you gasped, your voice breathless and needy. "I love making you feel good."

"Good girl," he purred, thrusting back into your mouth. "Keep going. Make me come."

You redoubled your efforts, your hand stroking him in time with your movements. His breathing became more ragged, his moans louder. "I’m close," he warned, his hips bucking into your mouth. "Fuck, you’re gonna make me come."

You moaned in encouragement, hollowing your cheeks and taking him as deep as you could. With a final, guttural groan, he tensed, his release spilling into your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste and the sound of his pleasure. When he finally released his grip on your hair, you pulled back, licking your lips and looking up at him. Jungwon’s eyes were dark with satisfaction and something deeper, something more tender. 

He grabbed your jaw forcefully, making you go back on your feet and crashed his lips into yours, tasting himself on your tongue. He grabbed your hips firmly. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire.

You did as he said, your heart pounding in anticipation. Jungwon pressed you against the mirrored wall, his body heat radiating against your back. He tugged your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, and you gasped at the sudden coolness against your skin.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his hand gripping your chin and tilting your head up to face the mirror. “I want you to see how desperate you are for me.”

Your eyes met your own reflection, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with anticipation. Jungwon’s eyes bore into yours through the mirror, a predatory gleam in them. He positioned himself behind you, his hand sliding between your legs to tease you, finding you already wet and ready.

He smirked, positioning himself at your entrance. Without warning, he thrust into you roughly, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he filled you completely. You cried out, the sudden intrusion overwhelming, but Jungwon’s hand quickly covered your mouth.

“Quiet,” he ordered, his voice a harsh whisper. “Anyone could walk in and see you like this, see how much you love being fucked by me.”

You nodded, biting down on your lip to stifle your moans as he began to move. His pace was relentless, each thrust rough and deep, pushing you against the mirror. The sensation was intense, every nerve in your body on fire.

“Look at yourself,” he growled, his hand gripping your hair, pulling your head back, forcing you to meet your own eyes in the mirror. “Look at how you’re taking me, how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your reflection showing you lost in pleasure, completely at his mercy. His other hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in sync with his thrusts. The dual sensation was too much, and you felt your body tightening, the first orgasm building rapidly.

“Wonnie, I’m gonna—” you started, but he cut you off with a harsh thrust.

“Do it,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “Come for me, beautiful. Show me how good I make you feel.”

His words, combined with the relentless pace of his thrusts and the pressure on your clit, sent you over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Jungwon’s hand muffled your cries. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rough with satisfaction. “You look so beautiful when you come.”

He didn’t give you time to recover, his pace never slowing. Each thrust pushed you higher, the overstimulation making your body tremble. “Won, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. “It’s too much.”

“You can take it,” he growled, his eyes filled with a dark hunger. His fingers moved faster on your clit, the pressure building again. You couldn’t believe how quickly another orgasm was approaching, your body responding to his every touch.

“Won, I can’t—” you started, but he cut you off with another rough thrust.

“Yes, you can,” he insisted, his voice filled with dominance. He leaned in, his chest pressed against your back as his lips hovered over your ear. “You’re going to come again, and you’re going to do it while looking at yourself. I want you to see how much you love being fucked by me.”

The intensity of his words and the unrelenting pace of his thrusts pushed you over the edge again. You screamed into his hand, your body convulsing with the force of your second orgasm. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, your vision blurring as you were overwhelmed by the sensation.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jungwon groaned, his own release approaching. “You feel so good. So tight and wet. You’re fucking perfect.”

With a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, his body tensing as he filled you with his release. You both stayed there for a moment, panting and trembling, the intensity of the encounter leaving you both breathless.

After you both recovered a bit, Jungwon carefully helped you straighten your clothes, pull up your shorts and panties, and made sure you were comfortable. He guided you to sit down on one of the benches, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and concern.

“You okay, noona?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, still breathless and trembling slightly. “Yeah, just… wow.”

He chuckled, his confidence still shining through. “Yeah, wow.’’

You smiled weakly, feeling the soreness already settling in. “I don’t think I can practice anymore today. I’m too sore.”

Jungwon’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I guess I really did a number on you, huh? Didn’t expect you to be so breathless and sore. Maybe I should’ve gone easier on you.”

You gave him a playful glare. “Don’t get too cocky, now. You’re just lucky I didn’t outlast you.”

He laughed, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Sure, sure. But that’s not what you were saying when I was indie you, huh? All I heard was you begging for more.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you feel better.”

Jungwon stood up and retrieved a small towel from his bag, dampening it with some water from his bottle. He knelt in front of you and gently wiped the sweat from your face and neck, his touch tender and caring.

“Here, let me massage your legs a bit,” he said, his tone softening. “It’ll help with the soreness.”

You nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. As he began to knead the muscles in your calves and thighs, you felt some of the tension easing away. His hands were skilled, and the massage was both soothing and relaxing.

“Better?” he asked, looking up at you with a warm smile.

“Much better,” you sighed, feeling more at ease. “Thank you, wonnie.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. He leaned in and kissed your neck, his lips warm and gentle against your skin.

You shivered, a mix of pleasure and exhaustion washing over you. “Won, we can’t… not here. We’re already lucky nobody walked in on us.”

He pouted playfully, his eyes filled with mischief. “But I was just getting started on round two.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Maybe later. I’m way too tired right now.”

He smirked, his confidence and cockiness still evident. “Fine, I’ll hold you to that. But don’t think I’ll forget.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Jungwon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle hum of the studio lights created a comforting atmosphere. You laid down on the bench, your head resting on his tights, while he played with your hair. 

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of footsteps in the building provided a soothing backdrop to your quiet moment together. Jungwon's fingers traced light patterns on your scalp, making you feel relaxed and content.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” you teased, peeking up at him with a playful smile. “That sounds dangerous.”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Very funny, noona. But seriously, I was thinking we should go out sometime. You know, on a proper date.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but intrigued. “A date, huh? Are you sure you can handle that?”

Jungwon smirked, his fingers still threading through your hair. “I think I can manage. Unless you’re too scared to go out with me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Scared? Please. I’m just worried you might not be able to keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up,” he said confidently. “The question is, can you handle it?”

You rolled your eyes, enjoying the banter. “Alright, tough guy. Where do you plan on taking me?”

He pretended to think for a moment, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “How about dinner at that new rooftop restaurant downtown? I heard the view is amazing.”

“Ooh, fancy,” you replied, impressed. “Trying to impress me, are you?”

“Is it working?” he asked, his expression hopeful but playful.

“Maybe,” you said, pretending to ponder. “But I’m going to need more than just a nice view to be impressed.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Challenge accepted. So, what do you say? Dinner tomorrow night?”

You bit your lip, considering his offer. Despite the teasing, you felt a genuine excitement at the prospect of going out with Jungwon. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a date. But only if you promise not to be late.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning seriousness. “I promise. I’ll even show up early, just to make sure.”

“Wow, early?” you teased. “You must really want to impress me.”

“Maybe I do,” he admitted, his tone more sincere. “You’re worth it.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Well, in that case, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” he said, his fingers resuming their gentle play in your hair. “It’ll be nice to spend time together outside the studio.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and letting the comfort of the moment wash over you. “Yeah, it will be. Just you and me, no distractions.”

“No distractions,” he agreed, his voice a soft promise.

[hannieehaee]

EUPHORIA

18+ / mdi

summary: you've been inseparable with jungkook from the moment you landed in korea. from the initial language barrier to your group's immense success, you've remained dubbed as an iconic duo. but what will you do when a single moment changes everything between you?

content: idol!jungkook x idol!reader, f2l!jungkook, 8thfemalemember!reader, afab reader, reader is implied to be a foreign member of bts but you can assume all dialogue is supposed to be in korean, pretend this takes place during 2018/19 while they promoted fake love in the u.s, appearances from the other members, pining, miscommunication, dumb insecurities, smut, dry humping, body worship, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.5k

a/n: this is a very unrealistic concept but its fanfiction so we're just going to look past that ok!

masterlist | patreon

"That's not how you're supposed to do it."

You sighed, movements halting and your eyes closing in annoyance.

Turning to face the culprit of the comment, you reopen your eyes, ready to snark at the exact person you were expecting.

"Do you have to be the bane of my existence?"

He chucked at that, nodding at you to turn and face the mirror located behind you once more. It was foggy due to the inhuman amount of heavy breathing exchanged in the practice room, but you could still easily make yourself on it. And Jungkook too, of course.

Standing behind you, — with an offensive lack of distance between your bodies — he grabbed onto your arms from behind, helping you position yourself to perfection, even to the exact inch, of the move you were trying to perform. His eyes found yours on the mirror, giving you a short smile before beginning to guide you through the small transition you'd been struggling with.

"See? Like that," he said once finally letting go of you after walking you through it a few times. By the end, you had gotten it as perfectly as your choreographer had described to you a few hours ago.

"Thanks, Kook."

"Thought I was the bane of your existence?", he chuckled as he bent down to collect a water bottle, taking a sip before handing it to you.

You were usually more worried by boy germs than this, but Jungkook proved to be an exception through the past few years.

You swallowed your sip, "Yeah, but I still have manners."

"C'mon, we should head back to the dorms. You've been at this all day. You beat Jimin at hours logged into the practice room this week," it was meant lightheartedly, but it was true. You'd practically been living here for the past few days.

"Where are the guys?", you wondered out loud as you followed him out.

The dorms, as Kook had called them, were really just a small living space located within the building. There were talks of moving onto a larger building within the next couple of years, but for now you were content with your living arrangements. Despite all of you either owning property or having family outside of the company building, you and a few other members usually opted to stay there due to convenience. You and Jungkook were the main ones to do so.

"Well, we technically have the next few days off, so I'm pretty sure they went visit family while they can. We probably won't be back in Korea for a while after promotions start."

It was true. You were soon due to head to America to promote your newest comeback. This was the first time you'd be taking promotions out of Asia and into the west, which made all of you incredibly anxious. As the most fluent English speaker in the group, the task of being the group's representative should've fallen on you, but luckily Joon had decided he'd be taking the brunt of it for you.

Still, you were terrified to open yourselves up for a way bigger audience.

"You good?" Kook interrupted your thoughts.

"Yeah, Kook. Don't worry about it."

The two of you headed over to the elevators, pressing the button leading you to the floor where your rooms were located. It was likely no one else was in the building at this time — holy shit, was it really 3am? — meaning that you and Kook would likely get some well-deserved rest in the privacy of the dorms.

That was one of the few nice parts of belonging to what once was a very small company. You had no sibling groups as of yet, which kind of made you own the place (or at least that's how Taehyung would put it sometimes). Late at night, it was just you and your group mates with the occasional presence of staff. Though more commonly, it was just you and Kook opting to stay together into the depths of the night.

"Nervous about flying to the U.S?", he voiced when the metal doors closed in front of you, caging you in with your friend.

"Maybe. You're not?"

He shrugged, "It's just like any other performance. You should be the least nervous. You speak English. You already know what America's like."

"Me? I'm the only girl in the group. I'm gonna stand out like a sore thumb," you whined, earning a chuckle from him.

It was a rare situation, being a girl in a group full of men. Other co-ed groups existed within Kpop, but they usually held a better boy-to-girl ratio.

But this wasn't really the reason you were nervous.

Opening yourselves up to an entire new audience within a mere five years since debut was an entire new battle you'd have to face. Worst of all was that no other Kpop group had ever truly promoted in the west before now. You were given accolades as trailblazers, but at what cost?

"Hey," Jungkook called your attention again, gesturing you to follow him into the hallway that would lead you to your room, "C'mon, let's find something to take your mind off of this."

Leading you into his room rather than yours, he sat you on his couch as he went back out to peruse the kitchen of any food he could get for the two of you for an impromptu night indulging yourselves. You relaxed as you waited, appreciative of Jungkook immediately noticing your lack of ease and working towards getting you cooled down again.

He always did have a way of being in tune with your emotions that no one else did.

His room was spacious and tidier than the average for a man in his early 20's. It was common for you to spend time here rather than in your own room. You had always been one to wander in search of your bandmates, and Jungkook just so happened to be the most receptive to it of them all.

The click clank of bottles bumping into each other was your first indicator of his return, making you look up from the couch, unable to withhold a smile when you saw him balancing various bottles of soju in his arms while also attempting to carry a few packets of spicy ramen.

Getting up to help him, you aided him in setting down all his snacks on the coffee table, moving aside any remote and controller that was in the way. Your usual set up was established then, as it had countless times before. It consisted of you and Kook on his old couch (that he refused to replace from the old days in which you could barely afford any luxuries) with a variety of alcohol and snacks accompanying you through the night.

He took a seat on the floor while you remained on the couch. It was common for him. Something about being at optimal proximity to the food on the table.

"We've got two more nights left in Korea. What do you wanna do to spend the time? And no, practicing isn't allowed," he interrupted you before you could respond.

You huffed, shoulders slacking before going back to their usual posture, "Well, then I guess just this."

"Just this? My dorm and some soju?"

"Yep. We're going to be overwhelmed by people and schedules as soon as we leave Korea. Might as well enjoy the quiet alone time," you reasoned.

Jungkook hummed in pensiveness, "Does it really count as alone time if it's together?"

"I like my alone time better when I'm with you," was your response.

And you meant it too. The quiet sometimes became too quiet if Jungkook wasn't around. You'd known him since you were 15 and had been unable to imagine an existence without him since.

It was joked around by members and fans alike, that the two of you were attached to the hip. Some people would even call you a dynamic duo due to how often you were together with no distance between you. Of course, you were shipped and speculated as a couple, but that did nothing to deter your friendship.

Had you been a smarter person, you would've noticed Jungkook's bashful smile at your response. But you'd grown so used to his constant company that the idea of anything further than platonic did not compute in your brain. You weren't even sure if you were opposed to it; it was just nonexistent to you. It was as if he'd spawned as your friend one day and you never once stopped to question it.

"Well, let's enjoy it while we can," he finally responded as he handed you a now-opened bottle of soju.

Clanking bottles, you each took a small swing, settling in for a night that you'd likely not spend sleeping. You settled closer to Jungkook after that, letting yourself slide off the couch snd knocking shoulders with him as you took a seat on the softness of the rug under you.

"What do you wanna do to spend your last few nights of freedom?" you asked after some silence.

"I'll do whatever you want," his head fell to your shoulder, "We can just camp in here til they come get us for our flight on Monday."

You hummed in absentminded agreement, sipping at your drink a little more.

Jungkook turned to look at you then, slight bunny smile showing through.

"So, is tonight a blackout drunk night or do you wanna stay up and watch some movies?"

"Hmm. Maybe a mixture?", you suggested.

With a grin, he raised his bottle for yet another clink before taking a drink from it in tandem with you.

~

You spent the next two hours drinking and occasionally eating some of the chips you'd found hidden in Jungkook's secret stash. You'd both been too lazy to cook up the ramen Kook had brought, so you fell victims to drinking on almost empty stomachs. It didn't take long for the two of you to become tipsy.

Not fully drunk, yet very much loose and relaxed, the two of you became lethargic versions of yourselves. You lounged against one another, with any distance becoming nonexistent as you babbled about whatever came to mind.

The two of you discussed worries about the upcoming comeback, your feelings regarding your arrival to the U.S., gossip about mutual friends, and anything that could possibly come up. It went on until the point of exhaustion, though neither of you seemed to want to call it a night.

The clock sat at 6 with some change, but you'd not once gone to sleep to start the new day. You'd talked and laughed through it, forgetting anything else surrounding your life and simply existing with your best friend.

It was probably the most at ease you'd ever felt with Jungkook, and that was really saying a lot.

"Do you ever think about the future?", he asked after an extended period of comfortable silence.

"What future do you mean?"

"After being idols and all. Where do you see yourself?", your head was laying on his shoulder, but he still turned to look at you as he asked, never one to care for lack of personal space.

"I don't know," you responded truthfully, "Never really thought about it. You?"

"I, uh," he shuffled awkwardly a bit, "I'd like to be married, maybe. I always wanted to give my parents grandchildren."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought. Mini Jungkooks running around while the Main Jungkook chased them around. It was easy to picture. He'd always been good with kids.

"That'd be nice," you hummed, "What's got you thinking about that right now? You're only 21."

"Not sure, just ... I don't know, it's dumb, I guess."

"It's not dumb," you reassured, "What were you going to say?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, but you didn't push.

"I've just never been in a serious relationship. I'm almost 22 and most guys my age have already been in a relationship. Can we even do that? Look at the rest of the guys, none of them have any thoughts on settling down. And I know a few of them would like to someday," he found himself ranting, "I just ... I've always had that childish idea of romance and .. it's something I really want. But I don't think anyone would be willing to put up with this life just to be with me," he sighed, "So it'll either happen when I'm old and dried up, or not at all."

You sat up a bit, turning your head to face him. Your proximity could've been questionable to others, but it was just a regular Tuesday for the two of you. Space was just an unheard concept between you.

"Kook, you know that's not true. Any girl would kill to be with you, you have to know that."

You knew damn well it was true. It'd gotten to the point where a few staff members had to be let go through the past few years, having somehow been betted by the company when their only goal was proximity to him. Even at some point you'd had to cut off friendships that merely used you to get to him.

But you understood. It was Jungkook, after all. Anyone who didn't want him would be an idiot.

"I can count all my serious relationships with zero hands, Y/N. And it's not like it matters anyways. The girl I like wouldn't even look my way anyway," he had whispered the last part, looking away from you and sighing.

"You like someone? Why didn't you tell me?"

You were admittedly caught off guard. You'd known about every single one of Jungkook's crushes and relationships since you'd met. Hell, if he merely found a person pretty, you'd be the first to know about it. What made this one different? And what made it so important to him to have him mourn a relationship he felt he'd never even get to have?

He shrugged, "Makes me feel like a loser, I guess. Not like I wanna parade around telling everyone about the perfect girl for me not even giving me the time of day. It doesn't matter. It'd never work," he shrugged sadly.

That sounded ridiculous to you. Who could possibly not want him? Maybe it was the alcohol, but the thought made you unreasonably annoyed. If she didn't adore him as he deserved, then she sure as hell wasn't deserving of the tiniest bit of his attention.

"Kook, look at me," he obeyed, though lethargically, clearly hesitant in doing so, "Anyone who's not in love with you is a fucking idiot. You're so amazing and so nice and funny and talented and handsome. Anyone would kill to have a guy like you even look their way. God, I'd kill for someone like you."

It was the classic speech you'd give any lovesick friend, but you truly did mean it. Jungkook had always been perfect in your eyes. Sure, you teased and prodded at him whenever possible, but he was an adonis with a heart of gold. What else could a person want from a boyfriend? God, and the mere thought that he felt like he was lacking, like he'd never be able to have the family and the love he always wanted? It made you so incredibly–

Your internal monologue was never completed. Maybe they were just drunken rambles meant for yourself. Perhaps they were a little telling, showing you thoughts about Jungkook you hadn't realized you were so defensive about. But you didn't have time to really internalize that idea before your mouth was interrupted by something that weren't words.

A sigh was released against your lips the very moment Jungkook's connected to your own. It was a flat pressing of lips at first, but it was followed by a shy molding of his lips around your bottom one, a soft peck released against it before he attempted to keep it going.

You were too in shock to move, simply sitting there with your eyes scrunched shut at the sudden act from Jungkook. Without thinking about it, you let your lips relax after a few seconds, returning the kiss in a similarly shy fashion. This was met by an almost inaudible moan from Jungkook along with a harsher pressing of lips.

Suddenly, the smacking of lips filled the room. Your bodies readjusted on the floor for better access to each other and, before you knew it, you were dragged onto his lap with your hands wrapped around his shoulders and his on your waist.

Everything in you went into the kiss, making you completely lose any reason within you as you shamelessly made out with your best friend.

Jungkook didn't seem to mind the sudden shift between the two of you. On the contrary, his moans and sighs of satisfaction gave you the opposite idea. He was thriving for it, attempting to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue explored your mouth.

Once you were finally out of breath, you pulled away, heavy breath interrupted by a few insistent pecks pressed against your lips in an attempt to prolongue the kiss. This made you let out a breathless chuckle, entertaining him for a bit before actually pulling away.

"Mm, no, not yet," he huffed, lips traveling from your cheek to your jaw and eventually landing on your neck, "Let me just ..."

He trailed off after that, hands pressing harshly into your waist to mold you against him so he could get better access to you. His teeth nipped at your skin, sucking at it warmly and then licking coolness into it, ensuring to enjoy you as much as possible. In exchange, you let him do whatever he wanted to you. Your mind was too fuzzy to understand what was going on. The two of you were too lost in each other to think.

Then came even more fuzziness.

Jungkook's hands traveled to your hips, enveloping as much as he could in order to push you up against him. The first time made you both gasp, completely drunk on the barely-there friction. But the first time was followed by the second and the third, continuously increasing in intensity as you humped against each other like animals.

His mouth eventually came to cover yours again, slightly muffling your shared moans of pleasure as your middles met time and time again.

There was a desperation behind your actions. Every single sound you made was met by either a whine or a cry from Jungkook, clearly incredibly affected by you and in turn making you even a bigger mess for him.

"K-kook ..."

"Shhh, just. Fuck, I just- I need this," he sighed before sticking his tongue in your mouth yet again, swallowing every sound that left you.

"N-no, just ... Want more. Please?"

It wasn't like you to beg, but your body simply couldn't ignore the hardness under you. Everything about him in that moment drove you crazy, making you dizzy with desire as the feeling took over you.

Never had you felt like this. Like you'd die if he stopped touching you. Like if you didn't let him take you however he wanted, you'd seize to function.

You'd never done this before, and Jungkook knew this. He wasn't too far experienced, but you knew he had the upper hand here. Except you didn't care. You loved Jungkook and the thought of him being the one you crossed this threshold with made the most sense to you. Your mind and body were screaming at you to let him take you, and you were ready to follow through.

Your love for Jungkook had never felt like this before. It had never manifested in a romantic nor physical way, but these were thoughts you'd put aside for now. This was what you wanted. You were sure.

Your words made him slowly come to a halt, fingers digging into your hips as his breath became even heavier than before.

"You ... Are you sure? I- fuck, I want to, but-"

A kiss interrupted his words. And then another. And then maybe five more. By the time he managed to pull away again, your tongue had made the tour of his mouth a few times over.

"Okay, fuck. Yeah, I- Okay, just ..."

Removing your pants whilst staying on top of him had been a clumsy and shared effort, but the result let you even more empty-headed than before. His hardness was bare and pressing up against the soaked space between your legs.

You hadn't bothered to remove your tops, far too lost in desire to feel a need for it. Consideration for a condom was also put in the back burner (aside from his quick warning of his lack of one followed by your dismissal of it), minds too focused on the urgency to feel each other to truly care about the risks. You were on mandatory birth control and Jungkook wasn't one to sleep around, so the issue was nonexistent to you.

"Oh, fuck. You're so wet," he breathed out when he let his fingers feel around for your readiness.

"Kook, just- just do it. I'm ready, I promise."

He nodded silently, beginning to adjust you so he could lower you onto him. But even knowing what was to come, nothing prepared you for that stretch.

And clearly, he hadn't been prepared for how you'd feel either. Or at least that's the impression his immediate cry of pleasure gave you.

"Oh ... oh, fuck. You feel s-so good, shit," he sighed out, face burying in your neck in defeat.

"K-kookie ..."

"Move, baby. Just like this ... Yeah, fuck, like that ..."

His hands guided you in a mixture of grinding and bouncing, all leading you to a similar fate to his own.

Your face fell against his own neck, crying at the immense pleasure he was giving you. The feeling was like no other. The pressing of dampened skin and the in-measurable level of closeness you felt to Jungkook would've been enough to make you lose your mind, but the added weight of his cock inside you as your clit ground against his pelvis had you rendered boneless above him.

"Mmm, pretty girl ... Such a perfect girl, shit. So fucking good ... what a dream you are," he bit into your shoulder after that, with a muffled whine vibrating into your skin.

Sadly, you couldn't reciprocate such words to him. Not when your mind was mush and unable to process anything other than Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook and the mind-blowing pleasure he was giving you.

"Need you to cum for me, baby. Need ... Need my pretty girl to cum, okay? Let me just ... Y-yeah, shit, that's it. Feel good, huh? So fucking perfect ..."

His hand expertly rubbed at your clit as he leaned further back onto the floor, feet now laid flat so he could begin fucking into you at an increased velocity your brain just couldn't comprehend.

Your cries of his name were embarrassing, but luckily they were mostly drowned out by his kisses, swallowed by his tongue while he occasionally mumbled words of encouragement into your mouth as he coaxed your orgasm out of you.

The perfect harmony of your highs following one another was orgasmic in itself. You had never bothered yourself too much about the lack of sex in your busy life before this, but now you were extra content Jungkook had been your first. There was no way it could've possibly felt like this with anyone but him.

There was some comfortable silence after it all. His warm embrace remained and soft kisses continued to be pressed against your skin. You weren't sure if he continued to offer you loving words for long. Your body didn't withstand too much time conscious after such drain of your energy.

The last thing you remembered before losing consciousness were your own attempts at kissing at the skin of his neck before letting yourself fall asleep against him. You'd reached a level of peace and comfort you never had before, feeling safer than ever as his arms wrapped even tighter against you and his body fell unconscious in a similar manner.

The following morning was immediately filled with intense grogginess. It seemed like your body had kept last night's dizziness but without much memory of how you'd gotten to this point of exhaustion.

You were practically a shell of yourself as you attempted to stretch your limbs without moving from the comfort of the blanket you were currently cocooned in. That's when you suddenly sat up in alarm.

When had you gone to bed? When had you gone to this bed? Because it sure as hell wasn't your own.

And that's when the memories came flooding back.

The first thing you noticed was the absence of the owner of the room, also known as the other participant of last night's events. He was nowhere in sight while you found yourself laid on his bed, far more clothed and clean than you'd been last night. This wasn't your doing, but it was easy to assume that your best friend would be the type of guy to ensure you were cleaned up and safe in bed before such a rendezvous.

The thought made you melt for about five seconds. Up until you remembered you'd now have to deal with the aftermath of it all.

Not only having to face him again, but also figuring out the feelings currently bubbling inside of you — and worst of all, figuring out if those feelings were reciprocated.

But you had to get up at some point. Get up and make your way to the communal area of the dorms where you were sure you'd find the boy you so badly wanted to avoid right now.

Getting up, you realized you were dressed in Jungkook's pajama pants but still donning the sweatshirt you'd had on before. He had preserved your dignity despite having seen you almost naked last night (and fucking you, of course). That was almost the sweetest thing all things considered.

After a quick trip to the adjoined restroom, you tiptoed your way out, scared of bumping into him while also hoping you did.

Peeking out of the doorway, you looked both ways to check for any human presence, finding none before making your way out of the door and into the following room.

"You really don't need to avoid me, you know. I'm not going to jump you or anything."

The sudden voice made you jump, hand coming straight to your heart and gripping at your sweatshirt in shock. You almost fell back, but were caught by a firm body behind you, vibrating in a chuckle at your sudden reaction.

"Dude, announce your presence next time," you huffed, disconnecting yourself from him and facing him.

"Like you did?", he eyed you cockily.

Okay, fair.

"Did you dress me and take me to bed last night?"

This flustered him, causing him to finally break that confident eye contact he'd been torturing you with and looking above you in favor of avoiding your eyes.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't wanna just leave you on the living room floor. Sorry, I-"

"No. Thank you. That was, uh, nice of you."

"Y-yeah, for sure."

A lack of ability to even look into each other's eyes took over the two of you. For two usually confident people, the two of you were acting like two tweens on their first date, which, for be fair, was pretty close to reality.

"I, uh, maybe we could talk about the-"

"Kook! Y/N! Sejin's waiting outside. We have a last minute meeting before tomorrow. You guys have ten minutes or we leave without you!"

The interruption from Namjoon was partially welcomed by you. You didn't really want to face whatever was going on with Jungkook. The loss of your last free day was slightly annoying, but if you could ignore this conversation for a little while longer, you'd take it. Feelings for your best friend were not a can of worms you wanted to open up right now, but specially at such a crucial time in your promotions. Much less did you want to relive the admittedly amazing sex you'd had, it'd just be a distraction.

You turned to Jungkook with a grimace in your face, "Well, guess I should go get ready," you said as you began turning away to go get dressed, only for your hand to be restrained with a soft touch only Jungkook could manage.

"Hey ... But we'll talk later, right? When we land in America?"

His eyes were hopeful, which only made you feel like even more of a terrible person. It wasn't like you actually wanted to avoid him, but you needed to figure out how to progress after such a sudden development in your ... friendship.

You nodded lightheartedly before finally leaving. Your mind was still going a mile a minute, so you didn't really process the face of disappointment Jungkook offered you in return, simply leaving equally as numb.

Two days had passed.

Somehow, for the first time in the many years you'd known Jungkook, you hadn't spoken to him in two days.

It didn't matter what was going on in your lives, whether it be personal or career wise, you'd never gone further than a few hours without speaking. Sleeping with your best friend could have that effect on a relationship, you guessed.

You took all blame for this. It wasn't as if Jungkook hadn't tried. The poor boy had attempted to get you alone, maybe hash things out a bit, but you kept avoiding him. Even when he tried to interact with you as you did before, you'd create distance between you, suddenly seeking out another one of your members in favor of not having to face Jungkook.

If you were hurt by Jungkook's face of disappointment every time you ran away from him, you couldn't imagine how he felt. It had gotten to a point where Jimin and Taehyung would give you weird looks, wondering why Jungkook's emotional-support-bestie wasn't attached to his hip as per usual.

And it had only been two days. It was a testament to how close you were. How out of character it was for the two of you to not be orbiting one another at all times.

So, your first day in the United States had quickly come and gone with no trace of any resolution between you and Jungkook.

It wasn't your first time in the country, but the thought of promoting overseas for the first time still made your fight or flight response malfunction. You felt your body freeze at knowing that you were about to grow bigger than you ever had before. Your sudden popularity after DNA's release had been unexpected, and it would only amplify after all the talk shows and events your company had booked for this comeback.

Jungkook's presence was usually all you needed to calm yourself down. You knew this. It had been infallible in the past five years since your debut. But it was the last thing you could have at the moment. And you blamed yourself.

The memories of your night together invaded you constantly. Jungkook was all you could think about. The way he looked at you before kissing you, as if you were the entire world and more. The softness of his hands on your skin, running through it in such a way that left traces of his touch. The sounds he made when you shared yourself with him at the basest of levels.

These thoughts stole all your focus time and time again. It happened on the plane, while speaking with unsuspecting staff, during dance practice, whilst you recorded content for armys. And it specially happened when Jungkook was nearby. Simply hearing his voice (even when it wasn't directed at you) was enough to bring you back. Even standing next to him during choreo had your skin burning up.

But it wasn't just your body begging for a repeat of that night. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts of him. Jungkook was all you wanted and needed, in all ways imaginable.

It was ridiculous, really. How had you not realized this earlier? Why did it take that night for your feelings to come to surface? Why the hell did you even sleep with him in the first place?

Could you take it back, you would never dare. The repercussions of it had you dealing with various mental breakdowns per day, but the moment you shared was not something you could ever convince yourself to give away.

You were currently lacking your main support system, your best friend, but your stupid mind was still somewhat at ease with it. You held hope that things would work themselves out somehow, even if you were terrified to open that can of worms.

Jungkook wasn't one to sleep around, which made the other night's events even more strange. His idea of love had always been quite clear — and extremely romantic, if you said so yourself. He was the clearest example of a hopeless romantic. When he loved, he put every ounce of himself into it, and then some.

But you knew that this was a side of him you would never get to see, and that thought broke you. That was why you cowardly refused to even meet his gaze.

If you were going to get your heart broken, you needed time to internalize what had happened. You needed to process it and get over it, turning it into one of the many mundane memories between you and Jungkook.

Sure, Jungkook was sad at your dismissals, but he'd be fine in the long run. This had been a heartbroken thirst for him, nothing more. Thoughts of his hopeless crush, mixed by the liquor, were the only reason why he ever looked at you with those eyes you wished to forget, but knew you never would.

It hadn't meant anything to him. All he wanted to do was get you alone so he could apologize and clear the air, but you knew that as gentle as Jungkook could be, nothing he could say would prevent your heart from plummeting.

So, maybe you were being selfish, but you knew your friendship would survive this. Your heart was who wouldn't.

~

"You're not getting it. Look, it's like this," Hobi repeated for the nth time — you'd lost count.

After giving you a slow demonstration of the moves in question, he turned back to you with a worried look on his face.

"What's wrong, baby? You're not usually this unfocused," he pouted at you, taking in the exhaustion in your face.

It was now day four in Los Angeles.

You had about five performances at various late night shows, including a debut of Fake Love at the BBMA's stage later this week. There were only a few days allotted for rehearsals before the endless performances and promotion schedules began. The stakes were incredibly high, and you were fucking everything up.

"It's nothing, Hobi. Don't worry about it."

You continued to look down, not wanting to look into his eyes because you knew it'd just break you down enough to seek advice for him. You were never one to brush up your members when they'd check on you. This, however, was an extremely mentally draining situation that you had to deal with on your own.

"What about him?"

Your face finally turned to his, finding him looking past you. You didn't need to turn around to know who he was talking about, but you still did. Upon turning, you found a very forlorn Jungkook on the opposite side of the room, his usual energy lacking as he attempted to coordinate with Jimin's moves.

If there was ever a rare sight, it was that of Jungkook not giving it his all. Whether it be practice or an award show, Jungkook is as always the epitome of an idol. Performing was his heart and soul, which made your current sight even more worrisome.

Your avoidance of him was getting to him, but you just couldn't make yourself face him. By now, he'd stopped even trying to get you alone. It was a lost cause to him, it seemed. Part of you felt deflated by his current lack of trying, but you understood. This was kind of what you'd asked for.

Your main hope was to go through with promotions, let time rid you both of the memories of that night, and finally reconnect, immaturely ignoring what had happened and never even discussing it. It'd go on unresolved, but the cycle of rejection would never complete. This way you'd be hurt, but by omission rather than by the knowledge that you'd been nothing more than an emotional rebound to Jungkook.

He was in love with someone else, after all. You wished to forget about that part of your memories from that night.

"He's fine. We're sorta fighting. It's nothing big, don't worry about it, Hope," you offered him a smile, though it didn't meet your eyes.

His tight smile matched yours, but his eyes showed compassion, understanding you probably didn't want to talk about it. But in usual Hobi fashion, he still continued instigating.

"He's making me sad," he pouted teasingly, "Put him out of his misery."

You sighed, "Fine, I'll talk to him tonight, okay? Just- Show me the move again. No more Jungkook."

You didn't mean it, but you didn't want your brothers worrying over an issue as mortifying as this. That, and you also didn't want them to know you'd fucked up and fallen in love with your best friend.

"I'll hold you to that," he pat your back before facing the mirror again.

With one last look at Jungkook, you surprised yourself when you found him staring back at you. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked genuinely sad. It made you wonder if maybe it was you who would end up breaking his heart.

Tomorrow was your first interview overseas. It was supposed to be a big deal, an interview and a short performance on Ellen. You'd be the first Kpop group attending.

Despite the pressure of it all, you remained somewhat unworried about tomorrow's schedules. In an eight-member group, you didn't need to worry about the spotlight falling directly onto you. Plus, you had bigger things to worry about.

But you still decided to push it all aside. It was easier to put yourself in an autopilot mode and ignore everything surrounding you. Ignore the thumping of your heart at the thought of opening up to an entirely nee audience. And, of course, ignore the lack of your best friend by your side.

You'd have to pretend in front of the cameras. You'd dance next to Jungkook, acting as if you weren't actively ignoring his existence. You'd have to provide the usual fan-service, though it had never been fake between you. For the first time ever, you'd find yourself acting whilst interacting with your favorite person. The thought was eerie.

With these thoughts in mind, you went to bed, happy your group could afford separate rooms this time around. Sharing with Jungkook would've been your breaking point.

But it seemed the world had other thoughts in mind. A sudden knock at your hotel room kept you from even making it to your bed.

Still clad in your pajamas, you huffed at the interruption. It was only 10:33 at night, but tomorrow would be a busy day. An interruption from Jin or Taehyung to go over to their rooms for a drink wouldn't really help with your current state of mind.

The belief that it'd be an unsuspecting member on the other side of the door prevented you from checking the peephole. You wish you had, seeing as the other side of the door revealed the last person you expected to see.

Jungkook.

You should've known he'd come looking for you sooner or later. But seeing as he'd given up on trying to get you to talk, you assumed he wouldn't.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame. It was likely in a subtle attempt to prevent you from closing the door on him rather than to feign casualness.

"Kook-"

"I'm coming in, okay? Don't try closing the door on my face."

With that, he walked in, giving you no option but to close the door behind him and following him into the living room area of your hotel room.

It was strange to see him like this. So serious and expressionless. The sight of his bunny smile was nowhere to be seen, which was an anomaly in your relationship. The quietness in his person unnerved you. You felt like the same way you did during trainee evaluations, like you were about to get scolded. It was strange for Jungkook to inspire this anxiety in you.

Then he turned around, facing you but not holding eye contact with you for long. His face did not look hurt in the same way it had when you'd locked eyes earlier in the day. He appeared more agitated this time around.

"Jungkook-"

Once more he interrupted you.

But not by talking, no. This time he invaded your personal space, taking slow steps towards you, taking advantage of having taken you by surprise with his unannounced presence. That, and a wall trapping you as you took steps back.

"I know you don't want to talk about it. I ... I can't really understand why, but I'll respect it," he sounded tired as he said it. He took a breath before continuing, "But I can't stop thinking about it."

Up until this point, you'd avoided his gaze, opting instead to keep your eyes on his neck, anywhere else but his eyes. Even as he'd cornered you against the wall, — with one arm extended on the wall to keep himself leaning over you and another shyly toying at the length of your oversized shirt — you attempted to ignore what was happening, despite your body naturally responding to him.

"And I don't think you can either. That's why you've been avoiding me, right?", his hand went to trace your jaw softly, subtly tilting your head towards his, "That's why, for the first time in five years, you've been giving me the silent treatment."

"It's not that ...", you tried.

"But it is, isn't it? If it'd been a once and over, you wouldn't care. You'd just move on," his face lowered, breath now landing on your neck, "But you can't."

"You can't ignore this," his hot breath against your ear made you shiver, "You want it too, don't you? Can't stop thinking about it?" his hands snuck under your shirt, familiar fingertips running through the skin, "Can't function? Me too ... Can't fucking think about anything but you."

"Jungkook ..."

"Please," he pleaded

His lips began pressing at the curve of your neck, up and down its length, occasionally suctioning lightly enough as to not leave a lasting mark. The wetness of his tongue soothing behind its track gave you goosebumps.

"I know ... I know we haven't talked about it, but ... I just need you. Please say yes. I'll- It doesn't have to mean anything."

If only he knew those were the last words you wanted to hear.

And as much as you wanted to put a stop to this, to scream at him and tell him how you felt, damning any consequences for your friendship, you stood frozen. Or well, you stood limp, willing to let him take you as he'd done less than a week ago.

You nodded, sighing when he kissed that spot on your neck he'd so quickly found last time. That was when your hands began reciprocating, holding him against you to ensure he'd never go away. It was a great contrast to a mere five minutes ago, but your body couldn't help itself.

His hands mirrored yours, wrapping themselves around you and holding onto every curve they could find. There was a certain desperation to his touch, only amplifying by the second. Your bodies molded together as he continued to kiss and suckle at your neck, making his way to your lips.

This kiss didn't need any buildup. It was immediately heated, carrying the frustration that'd been weighing over the two of you for the past few days. Jungkook groaned while you mewled into his lips, hand reaching the back of your knee to lift your leg and hold it against his waist. You wrapped it around the dip of his waist, needing him as close as humanly possible.

A desperate sigh was released into your lips at the first grind of his hips against yours. It was slow and calculated, as if feeding a sick hunger he'd built for you. None of it felt meaningless, even if you knew that deep down it was. At least to him.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you ..."

Those were the first words mumbled against your lips.

"Want you again. Please? Just like this ... It'll be so good, I promise," he continued to plead.

It was laughable how wrong he had the situation. You knew it'd be good. God, you knew it'd leave you reeling for twice as long as the last time. It'd have you pining and suffering through every second that he wasn't as yours as he was during these carnal moments. But still, you whined some pathetic excuse for affirmation and let him prepare you.

His eyebrows were furrowed as he moved pulled your pajama shorts down, once again leaving you in just your shirt as he took himself out.

Sex whilst almost fully clothed. Again. Did you really need more indication that Jungkook did this out of sheer need?

Despite the constant alarms going off in your head in attempts to protect yourself from impending heartbreak, you never once stopped him. Because you wanted this. If this was all you could have while he found his one perfect true love, you'd be willing to be a stand-in for him.

When he entered you, you finally felt at ease. It was embarrassing how easy it'd been, how ready you'd been to receive him despite no prior preparation.

"F-fuck. You feel so good ..."

You sighed at that. Yes, you loved making him feel good.

"'m gonna move now, okay, gorgeous?"

Gorgeous ...

You mewled, fingers digging into his arms and nodding desperately.

He wasn't rough in a way you'd expect a sudden booty call to be. You knew you weren't exactly a booty call, but that's the closest definition you could find for your relationship at the moment. Instead, he fucked you in a similar fashion to last time — desperate, needy, but with a sense of control that told you every movement was calculated.

To any outside perspective, you must've looked like the epitome of passion. Molded against each other, both pairs of hips insisting on constant connection through needy humps. The available slivers of skin showing were shiny with perspiration and affected by the friction of your touches. There was a desperate need behind every touch, every word.

"Hmph, fuck, shit. God, you're so perfect. Needed you so bad ..."

"Didn't think I could ever feel this good, fuck."

"So fucking perfect for me, oh, god."

"T-that's it ... Oh, so tight for me, such a good girl for me."

His words made you lose your mind. Unlike him, no words could leave your mouth. They were all incoherent babbles as he murmured directly into your ear. All your senses were lowered to zero. You were completely malleable to his words, to his touches.

"'m gonna cum, baby, need ... need you to cum with me, yeah?"

A hand went to your clit. It was an awkward angle, standing up, but Jungkook made it work. He made it work far too well, immediately getting your eyes rolling back.

"F-fuck, Kook, I-"

"I know, shit. With me, okay? Just- Y-yeah, fuck .."

You tightened around him as he came, causing him to fall back against you with endless groans of pleasure. That's when your orgasm finally came to you, joining him in the bliss. It was all very messy, being filled up by him and leaking down to the shorts you hadn't fully discarded. Your pajamas were completely crumpled by now, and your neck likely red and purple with splotches from his teeth. But the orgasmic bliss made up for it all.

Jungkook remained inside you, taking in the silence for a few moments. Your heavy breaths synchronized, their harmony ending abruptly when Jungkook pulled himself out of you with a groan.

He winced at the mess he'd made of you, quickly fixing himself up before heading over to the restroom of your hotel room to gather some stuff to clean you up with. During his absence, you stood there feeling like an idiot. Your heart plummeted once again at the remembrance that things would go back to how they were before, except maybe worse.

When he returned, he did so with a shy version of his usual bunny smile. It was hard not to return it. Had you been feeling anything less than like an absolute idiot, maybe you would've. But you just stood there as he cleaned you up, avoiding eye contact as you'd done these past few days.

"Hey, uh, I'm sorry I came so unexpectedly. I- I love you, you know that, right?", he finally said after some hesitation.

That made it worse somehow.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but ... I'm here, okay? I'll be ready to talk about it whenever you are. I just, uhm, I need to know we're okay. I'll give you as much space as you need, just, please tell me we're still friends."

There was sad desperation in his voice. God, every word he spoke just made everything hurt even more.

You couldn't speak. You'd found your ability to speak leaving you any time it concerned this topic. So, instead you took a step and closed all distance, wrapping your arms around him in a hug you'd been needing for far too long. Immediately, he returned it.

"We're friends, Kook. Always."

True, even if it destroyed you.

You felt him smile against your hair, pressing a soft kiss to it.

The events of your promotions went as planned. Four days later and you were now practically done.

The only silver lining of this whole situation was that it had occupied your mind so much that you'd forgotten any anxieties you felt over your American promotions. You'd performed perfectly, as had all your members. Somehow, you'd managed to become an empty shell of yourself, just doing as expected while on camera and deflating once you were alone, still haunted by memories of Jungkook.

You hadn't spoken since that night (shocker). This time it had been more of a mutual agreement. It hadn't been a formal thing, but you'd both kept your distance. If the guys noticed, they didn't interfere, for which you were grateful.

Tomorrow was your last night in America. You'd just made it back home from the BBMA's, having been the first Kpop group to attend and scoring a record-breaking amount of views for the show. That, and a reward. The carpet had been fun, just like every other moment in which you'd been able to mingle with artists you'd watched since your youth.

It was nice to pretend nothing was wrong between you and Jungkook whilst there. Any other public appearances before tonight's had been too brief for the two of you to even interact, which had made it easy to ignore what was happening. But tonight you'd spent the entire night together while hundreds of cameras recorded your every move. Almost like performing off-stage.

Somehow, you'd both understood what to do. It was as if nothing had happened. You laughed, you talked, you interacted the way you would've before any of this. The cameras caught onto your genuine friendship, displaying it for all those present to see.

So, when you made it back to your hotel room, it wasn't surprising when you found that your names were trending on Twitter.

It might've been idiotic of you to do so, but you decided to scroll through your names. They'd been trending together. Y/N and Jungkook. Not your names by themselves, but together.

Non-fans questioned the chemistry between you, the longing looks, as they called them. Short screen-recordings of your interactions on stage, easily translating onto the red carpet. The trends were filled with the two of you, with far too many new people wondering if there was something going on behind the scenes.

Your fans confirmed and denied it. Some were sure the two of you had more going than meets the eye. While others believed maybe something would happen someday, but they respected your current label of friends.

Friends. That felt miserably laughable at this moment.

The truth was that you didn't know your current label. Were you even friends anymore? Maybe friends with benefits? Or maybe, after all of this, just bandmates.

When you first made it back to the hotel, you'd all celebrated your win on V-Live with your fans as you usually did. The live itself was short-lived, usually expanding for hours after turning off the camera. However, you'd opted to call it an early night this time around. The immediate contrast between performing for the cameras and going back to your reality was not something you wanted to deal with at that moment.

Despite some worried words from the boys, you reassured them you were fine, encouraging them to keep drinking amongst themselves. You ignored Jungkook's immediate reflex to try and follow you. He must've remembered your current situation, sitting himself back down and looking solemnly at his drink, clearly avoiding eye contact.

Kissing a few of the members goodnight, you left, planning to spend a lonely night in your room, which was what you were currently doing. Sleep wouldn't find you, so you just moped at your phone screen, wishing that your fans' words would manifest into reality. That you truly did have some sort of relationship with Jungkook you had to hide from the cameras.

After a few hours of self-pity, the most predictable thing happened. Jungkook came knocking on your door.

He'd taken a surprisingly longer time than you'd anticipated.

Opening the door, you found a mixture of frustration and confusion on his face.

"It's four in the morning, Jungkook."

But he didn't care for your comment, walking in decidedly, just like he'd done last time.

He turned to you, giving you no time to complain about his behavior.

"We need to talk. I know I said I'd respect you if you needed distance, but I just can't do this anymore."

"Wow, it took you a grand total of four days to break," you couldn't help the sarcasm.

"Believe it or not, but going four days without talking to my best friend fucking sucks," he scoffed, "And it wasn't only four days. You haven't spoken to me in over a week. The other night doesn't count, we-"

"We what, Jungkook? We fucked?"

Your tone was biting. It was frustration you'd never expressed towards your best friend. His reaction mirrored that sentiment, backing down slightly at your irritation.

"It's not- It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it? God, you know what? I can't even blame you. I should've just told you to fuck off when you ambushed me with sex. Again."

What you were saying was so unfair. You were deflecting despite knowing the blame was shared. You continued to be a horrible friend to him.

"I thought that was what you wanted. You were the one ignoring me. I tried! You kept pushing me away. You never gave me a chance after that first night," his voice never raised, but there was agitation behind it.

"Because I never intended for any of it to happen! You're the one who kissed me in the first place! You instigated it. Both times."

Hurt reflected on his eyes at that first sentence. He recovered quickly, instead furrowing his eyebrows in frustration, but you'd caught onto it. Your stomach churned at it. This was not what you wanted to happen at all.

"You- did you even miss me at all? Was it that easy for you to just push me away with no plans of ever talking to me about it? About how you felt? — If you even felt anything. I know this was all just some stupid inconvenience to you, but- God, did you even think about my feelings?"

The truth was that you didn't. You put your own emotions above his own, immaturely avoiding the subject in order to preserve your own feelings. Since that first night, you knew that you'd be the one getting hurt the most, so you did everything in your power to avoid any resolution that would leave you as heartbroken as you felt now.

You remained silent, eyes watering and unknowing of what to say. He was in a similar state, face giving you every telltale sign that he was doing his best to hold back tears.

But he also looked angry. Something you'd never seen before.

"What, you're not going to say anything?," he scoffed, "I know I fucked up, I ..." he hesitated, face morphing into a softer version of itself before reverting back to anger, continuing to speak decisively, "I never should've slept with you, but I tried to make things right and, and you just didn't care at all. You were so-"

You stopped listening then.

That was it.

He had finally broken the dam.

Unlike Jungkook, you'd never been much of a crier. It was a nice contrast you had between the two of you. He was the more sentimental one, leaving you to a more stoic role. You could count on one hand the amount of times in which Jungkook had had to dry your tears rather than the reverse.

So you understood why seeing you suddenly break down in tears immediately stopped him halfway through his angry rambling. He swallowed his words, letting a surprised whimper escape his lips.

Within mere seconds, you were engulfed in his arms, one strong arm holding you against him and the other caressing at your hair in a soothing manner.

Your head was spinning and you couldn't stop yourself from gasping out desperate breaths into Jungkook's chest. You'd be embarrassed if it was anyone else, but Jungkook made you feel safe. Even under these circumstances, you were glad he was here.

"Baby, I- I'm sorry, fuck. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm so sorry, I- I love you, please don't be sad. I love you so much. All I want is to make you happy," he rambled on and on. You weren't able to catch everything due to your crying.

His words just made it worse. Platonic love was all you'd ever needed from him, but your unjust heart wanted more than that right now.

"Jungkook, stop. Don't say that. Not right now."

You separated yourself enough to look up at him, finding his eyes equally bloodshot and immense worry in his features.

Before he could argue with you, you shut him up again, taking a breath to ensure you could speak without suddenly sobbing again.

This was the moment of truth. You'd already ruined everything, might as well go all the way.

You gulped, taking a step back and forcing yourself out of his arms before beginning your lame excuse for a speech. You hadn't planned for a confession tonight, but here you were.

"I'm sorry. You're ... you were right. We shouldn't have slept together."

Repeating the words that had inspired your crying gave you a bitter taste in your mouth.

"But I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did. I was afraid you'd reject me after, uhm, after I-" you held back tears, knowing there was no going back from this, "after I realized I was in love with you. That that night was more than some stupid tipsy mistake. You were sad and ... and heartbroken over your love life, uhm, over that girl you like," your voice cracked at the memory, "and I should've stopped you before things went too far. I always had the power to stop you, but I just ... I didn't want to. From the first time you kissed me, I wanted more. I thought that if I avoided you, we could pretend it never happened and that I'd never have to tell you. I thought that way you'd never reject get the chance to reject me," you sighed sadly, "It was wrong. I'm sorry, Jungkook."

You'd looked down at your feet the whole time, refusing to meet his eyes. Your body was cowered into itself. The usual confidence you carried with you was nowhere to be seen. Your person was as bare as it'd never been before, laying out the most vulnerable feelings you'd ever beheld. And the utter silence emanating from Jungkook did not help matters at all.

Finally braving a look, you lifted your head to face him again, not caring for the tears running down your face nor the snot covering your nose.

You found him with his head in his hands, unmoving. The sight unnerved you.

Despite your own heart breaking at your unrequited love, Jungkook's heart took priority. You'd already made the mistake of putting yourself first once, but not again.

You closed the distance again, doing for him what he'd done for you before and attempting to embrace him in a hug. You'd offer him any comfort possible, knowing you'd been the one causing his suffering.

As you went to hold his large frame in your arms, you were stopped, suddenly finding two large hands softly holding onto your cheeks and bringing you towards his face. Before you could even gasp, your lips were occupied by a desperate kiss.

Frozen in place, you let him kiss you, unknowing of how to get your body to respond. And, god, did he kiss you. You'd never felt such emotion behind a kiss, not even that first night when Jungkook had practically begged for you to let him continue.

Against your better judgment, you finally began to kiss back, hands going to any piece of him they could get a hold of in order to keep him as close as possible. Your mouth opened, letting him lick into it and trap your tongue with his.

"It's you. I love you. Fuck, I love you," he growled between aggressive kisses, "Want you. Want you, please."

That's when he pulled away. He remained close, noses touching as he breathed you in, lips torturously close as they attempted to not fall into the temptation of another kiss.

"It was you. You're the girl I like- I love. You're who I want my future with. Everything I said about a family? Kids? It was you. I need it all with you," there was nothing but sheer desperation behind his words. His eyes were glued to your lips, and his hands had found their way south and settled on your waist, fingers insisting on pushing you as close to him as humanly possible, "When we- when we slept together. That ... God, that was a fucking dream. I didn't know what to do, I- I knew it didn't mean anything to you, I mean, I assumed. So when you didn't want anything to do with me, I just went back to you again. I thought, uhm, that if I couldn't have you the way I wanted, I could at least have you like that one more time. I'm sorry, I- I never imagined that you'd, you know, like me. Do you? Fuck, sorry, I just need to hear it again. To be sure."

Through the remaining tears, you laughed, nodding as you confirmed your feelings for him.

"Yes, Jungkook. I love you. I lo-"

In usual Jungkook fashion, he interrupted you again, this time squatting a bit before pressing his hands to the backs of your thighs and lifting you. Naturally, you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him whisk you away further into your hotel room. The tears were soon replaced by whimsical laugher. The two of you were on a high as you landed messily on the bed, immediately going back to kissing and touching as if you'd burn if you didn't.

"Fuck, love you so much. Never gonna stop saying it now," he mumbled between kisses.

His hands were on a frenzy, lifting up your shirt enough to get access to your skin, insisting in throwing it off immediately after. His went in tandem, letting your burning skin make contact for the first time.

The rest of your clothes joined, leaving the two of you fully nude within minutes of landing on the bed. It was full of desperate caresses, occasionally interrupted by traces of admiration against the other's skin.

"Gorgeous. Prettiest girl," he sighed after calming down a bit. His eyes told you he still hadn't gotten his fill of you, but he was a total romantic, he needed to take a moment to appreciate you.

"I've had a crush on you since I saw you, did you know that?" needy fingers went up to your breasts, tracing them softly, "Thought you were the coolest, prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Tae didn't let me live it down for years," he chuckled at the memory.

"Should've told me, you idiot," you managed to let out through his fondling of your body.

"Don't call me that right now, baby. Be nice. I've had a terrible week," he mumbled between kisses against your breasts.

"Mm, I wonder why," you barely managed to laugh amidst your sighs of pleasure.

"You laugh now, but you'll see."

You were about to let him have it, but he distracted you with his lips on yours. Time and time again. His toned skin felt like a dream against yours, rendering you unable to keep your hands off him. It seemed like he felt similarly about you, as his hands kept moving from one curve to another, thumbing at the skin with need.

The ruffling of sheets and a mixture of muffled groaning were the only sounds to be heard in your lonely hotel room. At four in the morning, you found yourself writhing in your bedsheets, body contorting to that of your best friends' as his fingers traveled down to your middle, knuckle pressing into that spot that had your back arching impossibly closer to his chest.

After torturing your clit for a bit, Jungkook finally made his way down your body, kissing at every inch of available skin. He took his time, leaving love bites at what you assumed to be his favorite places, even nuzzling against your skin in a softness slightly out of character considering the context.

"You're so fucking soft, baby. You'll never get rid of me now, you know that, right?", he looked up at you with an incredulous smile, nose scrunching at the smile you have him in return.

"Don't worry, Kookie. I plan on keeping you around."

He chuckled, biting his lip and continuing his path downward, soon finding himself at your thighs. Strong arms opened up your legs to open his way to your middle, fingers tracing their way down to the back of your knees to push them up to get them out of his way. When satisfied with your position, he began kissing at your thighs, mumbling unintelligible words between smooches.

You simply enjoyed the love he gave you. Only a few moments with him and you'd already forgotten any misery you'd put yourself through this past week. Every touch, every look, every word, you lived for every single one. You were barely conscious by then, with your hold on his hair being the only thing to keep you grounded.

It was when his nose first nudged at your cunt that you truly lost yourself.

That thing they said about men with big noses? Well it was true.

And unfortunately, Jungkook took note of the effect he had on you immediately, deciding to use his nose to torture your clit while his tongue delved into your wetness. He was eager with it too, moaning and groaning into your pussy while his hips shamelessly humped at the bed.

"Fuck, baby," he huffed, "Just like that, shit. Use my face, I'm all yours anyway ..."

You hadn't realized that you'd been humping at his face, but you took that as not only permission to continue, but encouragement to not stop. At that point, it truly became a mess. Almost a competition to see whether he'd make you cum with his tongue, or if you'd grind on his face until completion.

And as per usual, Jungkook won. For every cry you let out, his fervor doubled. It was as if he was pained by not giving you pleasure. His cries and whines into your cunt only increased in tone, higher as you approached your end.

"Kook, fuck. I'm almost there, don't stop," your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, "Yes, fuck, just like that ..."

Once more, he took this as a challenge, pulling at all stops to make you cum. His tongue took turns between licking into you and circling your swollen pearl, even sneaking in a hand to toy at you with his fingers. It wasn't long until you finally gave in to your orgasm, body buzzing under his while he refused to give you a break.

Even through the sensitivity, Jungkook didn't let go. He continued sucking and licking at you, chuckling when your attempts to pull him away finally clicked. He mumbled out an apology, sitting up on his knees to find his way back up your body.

"That was-"

But he interrupted you by shoving his tongue in your mouth for the nth time tonight. And you, not being an idiot, responded accordingly.

He hadn't bothered to wipe at his mouth before kissing you, meaning that you were currently licking your own essence out of his tongue. It was a depraved and disgusting kiss. At some point it could barely even be called a kiss, consisting of sucking at each other's tongues, teeth clacking, and bodies morphing at every connection of lips.

With no necessary warning, Jungkook's hips began desperately connecting with yours, hardness eventually finding a home in the space between your legs, close to where you wanted him but not close enough. Surely, you'd chafe tomorrow, but Jungkook's needy whines of pleasure made any repercussions worth it. You'd do anything he wanted to ensure he felt good.

"Baby, I need ... I need to be in you. Can I? You're ready for me, right, beautiful? Hmm?" he was frantic as he spoke, wide eyes staring into your hazy ones.

"Anything you want, Kookie. Need you in me so fucking bad."

He thanked you with a kiss, finally inserting himself in you with a groan, sighing out when he finally sunk into your warmth. Uselessly, he took a few moments to let you adjust, but corrected his mistake when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer in a silent demand for more.

"I'll give it to you, baby. I'll give you everything."

And he did. No further warning was needed when he began to piston into you. Groaning into your ear, his hips lost control against you, causing that harsh slapping sound of skin you'd gotten so used to with him.

"Shit, just like that, Kookie. So- so big."

"Hmm, yeah? But I fit so well in this pretty cunt. Made for me, huh? My pretty cunt."

He babbled incoherencies, unable to stop praising you as he made intense love to you. Gasps left his lips, needy fingers attempting to pull you closer to no avail. When he became too desperate to have you as close as humanly possible, he opted to lift your legs higher, having them wrap on his shoulders rather than his waist.

This new angle had you writhing in incomprehensible pleasure, hands clawing at his back, completely careless of the marks you'd leave behind. It only became worse when he readjusted just slightly, his tip beginning to hit that spot inside you that had you almost passing out.

"R-right there! Oh, right there, please! Don't stop, don't stop, I'm almost there, fuck, please!"

You hadn't realized your words would have him losing himself along with you. You saw his eyes roll and his jaw tighten before he finally let go. His warmth filled you up quickly after that, nudging your orgasm out of you with a harmony of cries of each other's names.

The end marked itself when he let himself drop onto the bed, falling beside you as he simultaneously pulled you into his chest. A soft kiss was left on your hair when you accepted his embrace, cuddling to his side despite the damp sweat covering him. You were probably just as sweaty anyway.

"Well, that was incredibly dramatic," you broke the silence.

He whined your name in return.

"Let me catch my breath before you get all cynical."

"You love my sense of humor."

He laid on his side, turning to face you, hands wrapping tighter around you.

"I love literally everything about you. Did you need me to give you another demonstration? Because give me five minutes and I'll-"

A kiss shut him up.

"God, you're so obsessed with me," he snickered.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't get used to it."

He buried his face in your chest after that, pressing a few kisses there. He couldn't help himself, it seemed.

"Nope, I think I'll get used to it. I might have to move into your skin, this isn't nearly close enough," he joked.

After a very brief silence, his lips made their way up to your own, sighing against you as he kissed you.

"I really missed you."

God, he made it so hard to not melt for him.

"I missed you too. I love you."

"I'm going to need to hear that every ten minutes for the next month to compensate for the past week," he demanded.

You pretended to be annoyed by the task, but actually brimming inwards, wanting to go on live at this very moment and let everyone know you'd bagged Jeon Jungkook.

But you decided to be cool about it.

"Fine, whatever."

His bunny smile told you he accepted your answer, but his subsequent attack on your face with endless, childish kisses said otherwise.

The very few hours of the night that remained were spent like this. After cleaning you up, Jungkook ensured his hands never left your body at any point, something which you had no issue with. Far too many confessions of love were shared, but they all felt just and necessary.

You were content. The nerve wracking week had ended, leaving you with more than you could've ever asked for.

to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, getting caught (kind of), teasing, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 427 (teaser); 1834 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"We really should've added some clause against inter-group dating when we signed out contracts."

Everyone else in the room sighed in agreement.

Well, everyone but the two of you.

While everyone else was miserable at the sight of you cuddled up in some corner of the practice room, you and Jungkook remained in your own world. Nothing could knock you out of it when you were in this state of mind.

After the mess that happened between the two of you, the constant miscommunication and intolerable pining (Tae's words, not yours), being with Jungkook unapologetically was the most stress-relieving feeling in the world.

The guys didn't actually dislike the sight of you together. You both knew this. It was a mixture of teasing and the natural annoyance inspired by yours and Jungkook's honeymoon phase. It was a small price to pay for the ability to be with your boyfriend/best friend at all times.

"You're just jealous," Jungkook threw back at Taehyung, who just huffed in return.

"They cheated the system. No one will ever suspect they're dating when they've always been this ... touchy," Jimin added, eyes narrowing at you as he walked by.

You simply stuck your tongue out at him, causing Jungkook to giggle by your side.

"Are you guys planning on practicing at any point or are you just going to harass us with your pda all day?"

This time it was Joon who spoke. His tone was that of a fed-up elder brother, which was pretty much what he was at that moment.

To be fair, you had been lazing around today. The two of you were usually quite quick at picking up the choreo, so after a few hours of practicing it one-on-one last night, you'd opted to take it easy today. Clearly, this was not appreciated by your group mates.

"Can we leave, then?", Jungkook perked up.

"Please!," you weren't sure which of the six guys had said it, but you did know it had been more than one.

Gaping at them, you were about to rip them a new one. Why were they so allergic to the two of you being together? They'd been the ones rooting for you from the sidelines! They'd-

"Hell yeah."

Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, using the strength he usually didn't realize he had to help you get up, dragging you towards the exit far too eagerly. Even when you attempted to turn back, eyeing the 95 liners who were currently laughing at you, Jungkook stayed disinterested, seemingly wanting nothing other than some privacy with you.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY EIGHTEEN: DIRTY MASSAGE w/ KENTO NANAMI

"What's the matter?" Kento mutters, brows furrowing in curiosity as he glances up from his book to look at you limping down the hallway. He has one leg over the other as he leans back on the couch, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, but the frames are unable to hide the immediate concern on his face at your strained movements.

You've just gotten out of bed, hair messy and eyes still droopy. Any other day, you'd be beaming to see your husband comfortably entertaining himself in order to let you sleep in on a Saturday morning. But his gentlemanly act only serves to make you roll your eyes and huff.

"You're the matter, Ken'." You laugh, leaning against the wall to still your quivering legs. It takes Kento a few seconds to absorb your quick comeback, before his eyes widen and he immediately gets up to walk over to you.

"Come here, my love. I'm sorry. I knew I should've been gentler last night. I got ahead of myself." Kento rambles as he pulls you into his arms, patting your head and burying his nose in your hair. You giggle at his instant remorse, pulling away from his chest to smile up at him.

"I'm kidding! I'm not mad. Just in pain." You say gently, filling Kento with a sliver of relief, but he's still kicking himself for putting you in such a state. By no means does he regret the things he did to you in the moment, he just wishes he had maintained at least a smidge of his composure to not render you completely helpless come the morning. It's a sweet sight, but overall, it's a little distressing for the poor, sweet man.

Nanami Kento physically can't have you so weary and wounded on a perfectly good Saturday. No, he needs to make it up to you.

"Let's lay you down for a bit, and I'll massage that pain away, alright?" Kento coaxes gently, already leading you back to the bedroom with a hand pressed to the small of your back before you can respond.

"What're you gonna do about my pussy, Ken'? She's real beat up." You coo teasingly, glancing up at Kento with a sly little smile that has him rolling his eyes.

"Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

. • ☆ . °.•°:. *₊° .☆. °.•°:. *₊° .☆

"Shit- you're so tight, honey." Kento hisses, and you're too fucked out to register whether he's talking about your knotted shoulder blades as his thumbs knead your sore flesh... or your drooling cunt as he fucks you into the mattress.

You're lying flat on your tummy, arms folded beneath your face and hands clinging to the sheets beneath you. It had started as an innocent massage, with Kento perched behind your ass and straddling your legs while pressing his digits deeply into the ridges of your back. But each time you made a show of writhing beneath him and "accidentally" lifting your ass off the bed to graze his stiffening dick, Kento lost more and more of his restraint, until he found himself frantically shoving his cock between your legs and dealing with your poor, achy cunt.

Kento's body smothers the back of yours as you're forced further and deeper into the mattress with each churning, wet thrust. One of his hands come down to grip the globes of your ass, trying to still your desperate movements as you nudge your hips back against him. Seeing how much you need him makes Kento's head spin, and he knows he'll be creaming within the valley of your sweet pussy if you keep backing into him like that, your plush thighs flexing each time you do so.

His other hand, the only part of his hazy body that remembers his original task, still soothingly rubs the top of your back, massaging your aching muscles while his hefty cock massages your gooey, sloshing cunny with his long, lingering strokes deep inside your core.

You're getting closer, the throbbing in your lower tummy building up into a mind numbing tightness that radiates throughout you. Each passionate thrust sends shudders rolling through your body, the moans spilling from your lips muffled by your arms. Kento carefully grips a handful of your hair and pulls it back into a messy, makeshift ponytail, nuzzling his nose against your neck as he groans and pants against your skin.

"There you go. M- My sweet girl..." He whispers, dragging his teeth along your jawline as his other hand squeezes your shoulder as he fights the urge to cum the second he feels your pussy clinging around his girth.

It's safe to say that you're no longer thinking about the soreness in your thighs and back, Kento's fat dick always and forever occupying the best of the real estate in your pretty brain...

me when i'm still working on kinktober in january 2025: ☹️🫣😢

me when i realise it still counts as me posting content: 😜😁🥳

[artytaeh]

𓆸 ֗ ˳ DRABBLE : [ meschinità ostinata ] 𔓘

theodore is a man of patience, or at least that's what his reserved behavior hints at. obviously, everyone has a limit; if you made your moodiness his problem, then he'll make his annoyance yours. it's only fair, right?

taglist : p in v, hinting towards theodore being a brat tamer. no further descriptions because i don't ruin surprises. obvious +18 content; read at your own risk.

"you're not stopping, are you?" the thick italian accent doesn't cover for the clear tease within his tone, a breathy chuckle leaving theodore's lips, as his hand smacks another slap to your asscheeks: "come on, tesoro; you have a lot to apologize for, don't you?"

one would have thought that, from the way theodore seems oh so patient with his girlfriend, that any annoyance would be sucked up, forgiven and forgotten. although theo is a good boyfriend... he's also a slytherin, and slytherins rarely forget resentments without a good bribery, you know? like a serpent, theo cunningly waits for the right time to strike.

in a more rational part of your mind — since everything else seems to become too blurry and white out.from the pleasure that keeps poking on that sweet spot, again, and again and again —, you ponder about regret.

should you have been impatient this afternoon? no, it wasn't fair to push your pettiness and moody behavior onto theodore, especially not when the italian was just trying to smoke his afternoon cigarette, hopefully to expel some accumulated stress, from this week's assignments.

do you regret it? not exactly.

how can anyone regret anything, if the outcome is theodore nott under you, blue eyes piercing into your soul with the cockiness of who knows what he's doing — gaze dispersing from your fucked out expression, only to stare in marvel at the way your chest bounces with every. single. movement. of your hips? oh, he's loving this.

theo loves your bratty side.

it's not a secret either. why do you think he likes the sassy ones? the comebacks make him laugh, and theo definitely laughs harder when he gets you so tired and fucked out of your attitude, that not even a huff of annoyance he gets out of you.

and he's working in that direction.

well, it's more accurate to say that he's making you work for that.

his hand lazily settles on your hip, caressing the skin already tainted with darkening fingermarks; so what? it feels so damn good to be inside you, it always has theodore muttering in italian—cursing and praising, depending on his tone, you've learned from pure experience. the other one, as if to taunt your attempts of scolding his unhealthy habit of smoking, holds a cigarette between his index and ring finger.

you know, the ones he used to impatiently prepare you for his cock, still wet with your slick. theo loves to feel you drooling for him, already fidgety and sensitive when he slips inside you — or, in this case, having seen you sink onto his painfully hard erection. the heaven's view, he swears.

taking a drag from his cigarette, theodore ponders whether you deserve an incentive, or to have him being mean with you. weren't you so smart earlier?

his fingers bruise the skin on your hipbone yet again, this time thrusting up for a harsh thrust, contrasting with this slow rhythm you're providing. theo scoffs, "seriously, is this your way to apologize for your bitchy behavior? dai, amore, non deludermi."

as if it's that easy to make your body work faster; it's already uncomfortable to be in this position, especially overwhelmed from his fingers!

not that theo cares about that, anyway.

another harsh slap to your asscheeks; a raise of his left eyebrow, and you know that he's losing his patience: "don't make me do it for you, dolcezza. i'll rip manners out of you."

and as delightful as that sounds, you're not sure if you could take that sort of overstimulation today. not when you're already like this, even less when theodore is savoring the idea of bullying your pretty lips and sensitive core.

so, hands falling for support on his abdomen, you do your best to ignore the aching on your thighs — perhaps you should do this more often or exercise? — you force yourself to lift your hips, only to slam them again until theodore is so deep inside you, that your clit makes a wet mess of his groin. theodore fucking loves that, expelling the smoke from his lips with a breathless chuckle, head tilting back to the headboard.

yeah, mattheo is probably sleeping in the common room tonight.

not appreciating the lack of response, zero empathy towards the effort you're already doing, theodore sneaks his free hand amidst the mess of your hair. his fingers tangle between your locks, until his nails lightly scratch over your scalp and tug you closer to him; a demand from him that feels ridiculously good to you. his free hand moves the cigarette away from his lips, and taking the chance of your gasp from the extra tug on your hair, theodore blows the burning smoke to your lips; inside your mouth. taunting how much you dislike this vice of his.

nicotine swirls between your tongues as they meet; that, however, isn't the reason why you crawl back to him everytime.

theodore nott is a drug of his own.

perhaps he decides to be nicer now, sloppily exchanging slow kisses with you, letting his hips roll upwards to pursue his orgasm.

"non puoi nemmeno essere una vera troia," theo is so close to you, that the movement of his lips, pronouncing each foreign word, brush against yours, creating a tingling sensation that only adds to the notion of being cursed and insulted—at least, that's what your intuition tells you.

his hand blindly abandons his cigarette on the ashtray, keenly aware that you can feel—and taste—that acid smell of tobacco and cigarettes, less considerate than he usually is about your irking over it. his fingers grip your jaw, his thumb squeezing your cheek as his other fingers do the same, not even letting you moan from each sharp thrust that kisses your cervix.

"cazzo, it makes me want to laugh at you. you talk, talk, talk my ear off," even breathless, theo seems to have too much to say; it should be embarrassing, really, if his disdain didn't make your inner walls clench tighter around his thickness. "and can't even own your bitching afterwards. didn't even properly apologize; maybe you don't deserve this, huh?"

it takes a moment for you to understand the implication there, too distracted by the toe curling sensation of being repeatedly filled up. it's when theodore stops, resting on the mattress once more and giving up on the fluid movement of his hips, previously bouncing you on his groin, that your eyes widen with disbelief. seriously?

at first, you think about calling him out for his pettiness.

but it's the smug look and smirk that makes you want to sob instead, dignity crumbling to ashes, reborn as despair to finally cum. please, please.

his hand lowers to your neck, fingers curling around your throat, even though there's not much of a threat there. it's a loose grip; not even properly holding it, a simple squeeze that feels rather gentle, more like he's mocking you, in a way.

the worst is that theodore isn't even being mean. no, this is him having fun; if he was being mean, he'd be teasing you about the first semblance of frustrated tears, and you'd have to cry for it.

picking up the pieces of any strength left, the smartest choice is to surrender yourself, hopefully calming down the fire that burns within theodore's temper to slowly sneak into his good graces again. your hips move — unable to exert the tired muscles of your thighs — grinding helplessly against the firm muscles of his groin, the movement enough to rip out a low groan from theodore, appeased that he won't listen any whines from you, for now.

"brava ragazza," comes as a praise; before the compliment gets over your head, his free hand slaps your thigh, "go on. use me like a toy, carina, cum on my cock."

yeah, this would be a long night.

[someonegoood]

I’m not a kid! pt. 2 ✫ jeon jungkook

in which you’ve always had a hopeless crush on your brother’s best friend, Jungkook, who’s made it painfully clear he doesn’t feel the same—until a family vacation forces buried emotions to the surface.

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! idolverse, age gap, arguments, jungkook is an ass with reader, +18, making out, smut, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex, explicit language…

NOTE: here’s part 2!! hope you like it!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

minors, please do not interact!

part 1, part 2.

my masterlist!

The dining table stretched out in the middle of the open-concept villa, a long, wooden piece covered with platters of food your moms had spent the day preparing, drinks being poured.

You were aware of the man sitting across from you. Jungkook. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tattooed arm as he sipped from his glass. He wasn’t saying much, but he didn’t have to. His presence was magnetic. Every move he made drew your attention, no matter how much you tried to focus on your plate.

Your mom was talking about you now, her voice brimming with pride.

“My daughter has been working so hard these past few months in her comeback,” she said, smiling as she looked down the table at you. “I don’t know how she does it. She barely sleeps!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hating how everyone’s attention shifted to you.

“She’s always been like that,” your brother chimed in, grinning. “Remember when she stayed up all night practicing for that school play? She was so nervous she forgot her lines.”

The table erupted into laughter, but you felt your cheeks burn. You glanced at Jungkook, expecting him to join in, but his expression was unreadable. He was leaning back in his chair, one hand curled around his drink as his eyes were fixed in you.

“She’s always been determined,” Jungkook said suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise. It wasn’t a compliment exactly—more of a detached observation—but the way he said it made your heart stutter.

“Yeah, determined to prove she’s not a kid,” your brother teased, nudging your arm.

“I’m not a kid,” you muttered, but it was drowned out by another wave of laughter.

You forced a tight smile, trying to play along, but the heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. When you glanced at Jungkook again he was taking another sip of his drink, now his eyes looking at the sky.

Halfway through dinner, you accidentally knocked your knife off the table. It clattered to the floor, and before you could reach for it, Jungkook leaned forward, his voice sharp.

“Careful,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The comment was casual, but there was an edge to it that made your stomach twist.

“I can manage,” you replied, grabbing the knife yourself. Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

Your brother, completely oblivious, just laughed again. “She’s always been clumsy, too.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his plate, and the tension between you grew thicker.

As the night wore on, you tried to lose yourself in the chatter around the table, but it was impossible to ignore him. The way he looked at you—brief, fleeting glances that felt like they burned—kept pulling you under.

By the time dessert was served, you were exhausted. Not from the conversation, but from trying to act like his presence didn’t affect you. And when you finally excused yourself to the kitchen, you swore you felt his eyes follow you as you left.

The soft glow of the kitchen light greeted you as you stepped inside, seeking refuge from the buzz of the dining room. You reached for a glass of water, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Couldn’t take the noise anymore?” a warm voice asked behind you.

You turned to see Mrs. Jeon standing at the doorway, her kind smile immediately softening your nerves. She was carrying an empty platter, her movements unhurried as she crossed the room to place it on the counter.

“Yeah,” you admitted, setting your glass down. “Needed a little breather.”

She chuckled, opening a cabinet to grab some storage containers. “I don’t blame you. That dining table can get a little overwhelming, especially with all the teasing going on.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding. “It’s like they’re never going to let me forget I’m the youngest.”

She glanced at you knowingly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “That’s because we all adore you. Even if they have a funny way of showing it sometimes.”

You leaned against the counter, watching as she began packing up some of the leftover food. It was comforting—being here with her, away from the tension that lingered with Jungkook at the table.

She smiled, her gaze flicking to you. There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her tone softer this time. “You and Jungkook… you used to be so close when you were kids. He used to talk about you all the time.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “He did?”

She nodded, her smile tinged with nostalgia. “Oh, yes. He used to come home and tell me all about the adventures you two would have with your brother. He always said you were fearless—always trying to prove yourself.”

You let out a quiet laugh, staring down at your hands. “I guess I was just trying to keep up with them.”

“Even now, I can see how much he cares about you.”

You froze at her words, your chest tightening. “I don’t think that’s true,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She set down the container she was holding and turned to face you fully, her expression soft but serious. “Trust me, I know my son. He’s not always the best at showing how he feels, but it’s there.”

You looked at her, unsure of how to respond. The knot in your chest only grew tighter, and you fought the urge to spill everything—to tell her how hopelessly you’d fallen for him, how his mixed signals were tearing you apart.

But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile and nodded. “Thank you.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re a good girl. And I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with your career, but don’t let the little things pass you by, okay? Sometimes the things we think we can’t have are just waiting for us to take a chance.”

You stood there for a moment, her words replaying in your mind. And as much as you wanted to believe her, the memory of Jungkook’s distant gaze at dinner told a different story.

The next morning the sun was high, shimmering over the gentle waves and warming the soft stretch of sand. You stood at the edge of the villa’s terrace, adjusting the straps of your pink bikini, the light breeze brushing against your skin as you took a deep breath.

When Jungkook stepped onto the patio heading to the beach, his footsteps faltered. For a moment, he froze. His gaze landed on you, his eyes taking in the vibrant color of your bikini that hugged your frame, your beautiful curves, in a way that felt unfairly distracting.

You caught his gaze, and his dark eyes quickly flicked up to yours, as though caught red-handed. His jaw tightened, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“You coming or not?” your brother called from down the path, completely unaware of the sudden tension hanging between you and Jungkook.

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, tearing his gaze away and following after him. But as you trailed behind, he couldn’t help but glance back at you. Noticing how some of the guys at the beach—strangers sprawled across towels and tossing a frisbee—let their eyes linger on you just a little too long made his stomach twist.

The feeling was foreign, uninvited. He hated it.

By the time you reached the beach and found a spot to settle, Jungkook had barely spoken a word to you, though his eyes betrayed him every time you moved. As you pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into your arms, he tried to focus on anything else—the waves, the sky, the sound of seagulls—but the sight of you struggling to reach your back was impossible to ignore.

“Need help?”

You looked up, startled by his sudden voice. His expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

“Oh,” you said, hesitant. “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

He positioned himself behind you, his hands steady as he took the bottle from you and squeezed a small amount into his palm. The first touch of his hands against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to hide it.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his fingers gliding over your shoulder blades and down the curve of your back. He tried to keep his movements clinical, detached, but the softness of your skin under his touch and the scent of the sunscreen—mixed with whatever perfume you were wearing—was messing with his head.

“All done,” he said quickly, pulling his hands away as if they’d been burned.

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing at him over your shoulder. He was already looking away, his jaw set tight.

A few minutes later, you waded into the water, the cool waves lapping at your legs. Jungkook followed, his hair pushed back by the wind as he tried not to look at you too much. But when you laughed—light and carefree, splashing water at him—he couldn’t help it.

“Is this payback for all those summers I beat you at volleyball?” he teased, smirking as he splashed you back.

You rolled your eyes, the sun catching in your damp hair as you moved closer. “You didn’t beat me. You cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“You totally did,” you said, laughing again. The sound was like a melody he couldn’t ignore.

The two of you were close now, the waves brushing against your waists. His smile faded slightly as he looked at you, the playfulness in his expression giving way to something softer, something heavier.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Your laughter faded as you looked up at him, suddenly hyperaware of how close you were. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a moment, and your heart leapt into your throat.

He took a step closer, his hand brushing yours under the water. The air between you felt electric, charged with everything unspoken.

But before either of you could close the distance, a voice shattered the moment.

“Hey! You two good out here?” You jumped, spinning around to see Minho standing on the shore, waving at you both.

“We’re fine!” you called back, your voice a little too loud, your cheeks burning.

Jungkook cleared his throat, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “I-I should probably head back,” he said, his tone clipped.

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly, your heart still racing as he turned and waded back toward the shore, leaving the moment—and whatever it could have been—behind.

“I’m telling you, we should go for a darker concept this time,” Yunjin said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Something intense and powerful. No one’s expecting it.”

The night was quiet, save for the distant crash of waves against the shore. You were tucked away in your room, sitting cross-legged on the bed with your phone in your hands. The screen glowed with the faces of your members—Nari, Mimi, Yunjin, and Sky—who were all chatting animatedly about your group’s upcoming comeback.

“Darker? That could work, but we need to make sure it fits the choreography,” Nari said, her expression thoughtful.

You leaned back against the headboard, a soft smile tugging at your lips you play with the edge of your oversized white t-shirt with Hello Kitty's face. The conversation was exactly what you needed after a long day—something normal to ground you. But as the topic shifted away from the comeback, you felt the air shift, like they were plotting something.

“So…” Sky began, dragging out the word with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What’s going on in the villa? Did you fuck?”

“Sky! Oh my god…” You shouted while your cheeks were turning redder. The mention of a situation involving his body and touch made your stomach flip.

“Don’t act clueless,” Mimi teased. “You probably have fucked him ten times by now.”

“That’s my queen!” Yunjin chimed in, laughing.

“There’s nothing, no fucking,” you muttered, but your voice lacked conviction.

“Liar!” Nari laughed. “Come on, spill. What’s the deal?”

You sighed, finally giving in. “Fine. Something happened today.” Their eyes lit up, and you immediately regretted opening your mouth.

You told them everything: the way Jungkook had helped you with sunscreen at the beach, the near-kiss in the water, and how he’d gotten jealous over the way other guys were looking at you.

Mimi gasped. “He helped you with sunscreen? That’s practically a love confession.”

“And he was jealous?” Sky added, her grin wide. “Oh, he’s down bad.”

Yunjin leaned closer to the camera, her eyebrows raised. “So, what now? Did you talk to him about it?”

Before you could answer, a faint noise broke through the chatter—a soft scraping sound, like someone fiddling with your doorknob.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Hold on,” you whispered, staring at the door.

“Girl are you alright?” Your members asked.

The sound grew louder, more insistent, and then the door handle turned. You grabbed the nearest object—a hairbrush—your grip tightening as the door creaked open.

“Kid?” came a familiar voice, low and annoyed.

“Jungkook?” Your breath hitched as he stepped into the room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.

“Relax,” he muttered, closing the door behind him. “It’s just me.”

“Just you?” you snapped, lowering the hairbrush. “What are you doing barging into my room like that?” You grabbed your phone and turn the video call off.

He ignored your question, his gaze flicking to your phone. “What are you doing? It’s almost midnight, and you’re loud enough to wake the entire villa.”

Heat rushed to your face. You quickly ended the call, ignoring the teasing protests of your members, and turned to face Jungkook. “You could’ve just knocked.”

“I did knock,” he said, crossing his arms. “But you didn’t hear me. So, I let myself in.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be angry or embarrassed. “Fine. Sorry for keeping you up. You can go now.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, he locked the door, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“Jungkook?” you asked, your voice softer now.

He leaned against the door, running a hand through his hair. “At the beach earlier, when those guys were staring at you…” His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “It made me so jealous I couldn’t think straight.”

You blinked, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “You… Please, you don’t get to be jealous,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You’ve been with other girls before, and I respected that. I didn’t say anything. Why should you get to feel jealous when I’ve done nothing wrong?”

His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, the weight of his stare almost too much to bear. “You’re right,” he said after a moment, his voice rough with emotion. “But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it. I can’t stand the idea of anyone else looking at you that way.”

Your heart raced, your chest tightening as his words sank in. “That way?” you whispered.

“Like they can have you,” he admitted, stepping closer. “I’m not allowed to want you, even though I do. So… seeing that guys-”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling at your sides. “Jungkook…”

“Tell me to leave,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you don’t want this—if you don’t want me—just tell me to leave, and I will.”

But you didn’t. Instead, you took a step closer, your heart pounding as you reached for him. His lips met yours in an instant, the kiss urgent and electric, like a dam breaking after years of restraint.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as your fingers tangled in his hair. The world outside the room faded away, leaving only the two of you and the emotions you could no longer deny. When you finally pulled back, your breaths were shallow, your foreheads pressed together.

“This changes everything,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. “But I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him. “Jungkook...” Little by little, he brought you both closer to your bed and out of nowhere you were lying between the soft white sheets and him on top of you.

“Jungkook, what? Now you wanna beg?” He grinned, your arms found their way around his neck, legs already wrapping around his waist and pushing him against you. You almost had to chuckle when you felt that he was hard already.

You looked down to your t-shirt, only to realize you had still had your oversized Hello Kitty t-shirt, shit.

“That t-shirt looks good on you. Although one of mine would look even better,” he said, kissing your nose. You punched hin lightly in his chest, laughing softly.

“Mm-uh.” he opened your legs and traced with his hand an imaginary path in your lower stomach.

“Wait… anyone can hear us,” you said, fear in your voice.

“I know baby, but I’m so serious right now,” he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. “Dead serious. I won’t let anyone else fuck me if it isn’t you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“One hundred percent.” He smiled. You knew he couldn’t wait much longer, not when he knew what effect he was having on you today. He could feel your wetness before he even came in contact with it.

Jungkook softly pressed his lips against yours. Each kiss grew longer and more intimate than the last, and there was an intense rhythm in the movement of your lips. The sensation of him against you filled your body with excitement.

You ran your hands up his chest and pulled him in close. His hot breath teased you as he left a trail of kisses along your neck. The tingling of him making his mark on you triggered a small moan from your mouth. You took a peek and caught him smirking and admiring the tiny pink spot he left on your skin.

He pulled from his t-shirt and the sight of his bare chest made you blush. Of course you had seen it many times before, but it was the first time in this context. Then you felt him grasp the hem of your shirt, looking at you for confirmation.

“Is this okey, princess?” That was the first time he was calling you like that. Princess. It sounded good. Still blushing, you nodded as he lifted the shirt over your head and tossed it to the edge of the bed. You saw him shift his eyes to your exposed chest, biting his lip to hold in his lust for you.

“You don’t have to be shy, okay?” He spoke in his low and soothing, yet very sensual voice. He tucked your hair behind your ear and entwined his fingers with yours once more.

“Okay,” you smiled back.

He slowly moved his hand down your waist to your inner thigh while licking one of your nipples. Each time he squeezed your thigh, you felt a heated sensation growing between your legs. You squirmed around to kick all lingerie, until you were completely vulnerable to Jungkook’s eyes.

“Fuck… you were prepared?” He asked, wondering why you were not wearing any shorts and a lingerie thong.

“Maybe…” You were not prepared for this situation in particular, but you never know when something can occur. You wanted to kiss your past self for packing this set.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he replied, continuing to slide his hands up your thigh and closer to the sensation where you felt hot and wet. Just before he reached the spot, he paused to give you another warm, delicate kiss. He ripped off your panties in a second.

“Jungkook! They were new!” You said, amused.

“Princess, I’ll take you on a shopping day and buy ten of these,” he said.

As his lips kept you calm, he snuck a light pair of fingers between your legs. His fingers glided up and down with such ease. You arched your back when he brushed against the center of your pleasure. You hadn’t even realized how needy you were for his touch until a loud moan escaped your mouth.

“Jungkook…” You whined desperate for him. You’d been fantasizing for years about what he must feel like and now you were so close to having what you dreamt of.

He put in a bit more pressure and speed as his fingers circled your center over and over again. “You like that, princess?” He asked, while you felt the pleasure building up quickly.

“K-kook…” At the sound of your desperate cry, he slid two fingers inside you and began curling them in and out at a frustratingly slow pace. Immense waves of pleasure consumed your body as he continued to touch your most sensitive areas. “Faster please…”

“Torturing you is like torturing me,” He sighs. “Fucking wet.” You clenched around his fingers as you let out another loud moan, trying to keep yourself from cumming so fast.

“You like that, baby?” He teases you, his face decorated with a proud smirk as his fingers move faster than before. Almost screaming, you felt your orgasm come through while you suppressed your moans with a hand in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you had very little time to recover though, as Jungkook stood back up, turned you around and pushed you down onto the matress.

Leaving a rough slap against your ass cheek, he pulled himself out of his pants sliding his dick along your folds to collect your cum on him. “Fuck, so wet for me, baby.”

He introduced his tip in your folds, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. “Does that hurt? You’re fine?” He asked you, and you chuckled at his reaction.

“I’m alright here, you can start moving.”

He didn’t take long to start fucking into you at a ruthless speed, hands on your hips, the euphoric expression written on his face turning you on even more. His head fell back as he let out a low moan. He smirked as he landed another firm slap to your ass before he griped you shoulder.

“K-kook they will hea-hear us,” you said in between muffled moans without a doubt in your mind that your moans could be heard throughout the hallway.

Your arm coming up to rest on the bed to help you support yourself. He let go of your shoulder and moved his hand around to your clit, his nimble fingers moving against you in rhythm with his dick.

His throaty moans keep sending electric shocks through your body and within long you can already feel yourself building up to your second orgasm of the day.

“God…. You feel so good,” you moan against his lips, his tongue tracing your lover lip before he gently bites it. He hums in response.

He hums in responds. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he praises you, his hand brushing away a lose strand of hair from your forehead.

Upon hearing his words, your walls clamp down around him and he falters for only a second from the feeling before he picks up the speed slightly.

His hips are slamming against yours, his length ramming in and out of you as your back arched off the bed, your hands grasping whatever they can hold on to.

You were both moaning loudly as his thrusts got sloppier and rougher, the pulsing of your walls pushing him over the edge only seconds after you.

“I’m gonna cum baby! Fuuuuck!” Jungkook groans above you and you can feel as he releases inside you. His pace slows down but he keeps pumping in and out of you until he’s sure you both rode out your orgasm.

Jungkook fell forward, right above you as he slowly and gently kissed down your back, riding out his high.

He eventually pulled himself up and out of you before helping you back up. He situated himself back into his pants as you readjusted oversized t-shirt.

“You did so good for me, kid,” he softly pressed his lips to yours, one hand on your waist as the other caressed your cheek softly.

The first thing you felt in the morning was heat. You were drenched in your own sweat, and the thin sheets that were draped around your body clung tackily to your skin.

As you listened to Jungkook’s steady breaths, you meandered through the events of last night. The weight of his arm slung loosely around your waist was comforting. You chuckled, remembering last night.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook mumbled groggily, his arms tightening around you. You lifted your head, looking up at him.

“Morning.” Your mouth spread into a smile.

“Good morning, kid.” He ruffled your hair lazily, running his finger through the wild strands.

The peaceful atmosphere didn’t last long. A shrill knock on the door shattered the stillness, making you both freeze.

“Shit,” Jungkook whispered, instantly alert. He sat up, his bare chest gleaming in the morning light. “Who the hell is that?”

You didn’t have time to answer before the knock came again, louder and more insistent. Panic surged through you as you scrambled out of bed, tugging on a pair of shorts over your underwear.

“Jungkook, you can’t be here. They’ll kill us if they find out.”

He shot you a quick glare, already pulling on his discarded shirt. “I know, okay? I’m trying to figure out how to sneak out without a parade waiting for me outside.” He stated, annoyed.

The sound of the door handle turning made your heart stop. You grabbed the nearest object—a hairbrush—and held it like a weapon, ready to face whoever dared to intrude.

The door creaked open, revealing your mom and Jungkook’s.

Her eyes widened as they darted between you and Jungkook, who was awkwardly trying to zip his jeans while hiding behind the door.

“Wha-what’s going on here?”

Before you could think of an excuse, Jungkook’s mom appeared behind yours, looking equally suspicious. Both moms stared at each other for a long, loaded moment. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they exchanged a knowing look and stepped back.

“Take the back stairs,” Jungkook’s mom said, her voice calm but stern. “No one’s awake yet.”

You and Jungkook nodded fervently, like children caught stealing cookies. As Jungkook slipped out the back, you exchanged a glance with your mom.

“Don’t think I’m letting this slide,” she warned, but there was an unusual softness in her eyes.

And with that, she turned on her heel and left, leaving you with nothing but the lingering embarrassment—and a lingering warmth from the night before.

Since that day, you hadn’t seen Jungkook.

The morning after that unforgettable night, he had slipped out quietly, leaving behind a soft kiss on your forehead. He promised to see you before the end of your vacation, but the last day came, and Jungkook was gone. His sudden departure was blamed on a last-minute dance practice he had to attend, and while he responded to the one message you sent him, his replies were distant and curt.

you

kook have you arrived yet? read, 18:34

kook? read, 20:40

Days turned into weeks, and the excitement of what had happened between you two began to feel like a distant memory, replaced by lingering questions. Was it a one-time thing for him? Had you misread his intentions?

Months later, an unexpected invitation arrived: two front-row tickets to BTS’s concert in your city. It was addressed to your family, sent with love from Jungkook’s mother, and you weren’t sure if it was his idea or hers. Either way, the thought of seeing him again made your heart race.

The night of the concert, your family and you arrived early with backstage passes. Walking through the bustling corridors filled with staff and crew, you felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. It wasn’t long before you spotted Jungkook’s mother, her kind smile instantly putting you at ease.

“Darling” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been too long.”

You returned her embrace, feeling a flood of nostalgia. “It has. How have you been?”

“I’m well. But you… you look lovely,” she said, stepping back to examine you. Her gaze softened as she added, “You and Jungkook remind me so much of me and his father when we were young.”

Your breath hitched at her words. “Really?”

She nodded, her expression wistful. “The way he talks about you, the way he looks at you… It’s the same way my husband looked at me when we first fell in love.”

The mention of love made your chest tighten. “Well, he’s been distant lately,” you admitted, unable to hide the sadness in your voice, “you know… since the incident, yeah.”

She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him time, he’s being dumb now. If it’s meant to be, it will work out.”

Before you could respond, a loud commotion signaled the arrival of BTS. The members spilled into the room, their energy infectious as they greeted your family with enthusiasm.

“Look who’s here!” Taehyung called out, grinning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “It’s good to see you again!”

The others followed suit, each greeting you warmly. They joked, teased, and chatted as if you were part of their family, making you feel at ease despite the tension simmering beneath your calm exterior.

And then, he walked in.

Jungkook appeared in the doorway, dressed in baggy jeans and an oversized white BTS t-shirt that hung effortlessly on his frame. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he looked better than you remembered.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He greeted your family with polite smiles before his gaze found yours.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone low but firm.

You nodded, following him as he led you to his dressing room. The door closed with a soft click, and the silence was heavy.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” you blurted out, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “I called, I texted, and you barely responded. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. Things got… complicated. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Complicated?” you repeated, your voice rising. “All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you left me wondering if I meant anything to you at all.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. Finally, he stepped closer. “You mean everything to me and that’s the problem. I’ve never felt this way before, and it scared me. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it didn’t. It made it worse. And your brother he…”

You blinked, his confession catching you off guard. “Kook, you let me have the talk with my brother. We’ll figure it out.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “I’m sorry for being an idiot. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re really bad at this, you know?” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He laughed softly, relief washing over his face. “Yeah, I am. But I’ll do better. I promise.”

You nodded, letting him pull you into his arms. The tension melted away as he held you close, his warmth grounding you in the moment.

“I have to go,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “But I’ll be looking for you in the crowd.”

And he did.

From your spot in the front row, you watched as Jungkook lit up the stage, his energy and passion unmatched. But every now and then, his gaze would flicker to you, and in those fleeting moments, it felt like the world belonged to just the two of you.

[porcalinecunt]

boothill punishing reader for calling him ‘just a fucktoy’ so he turns them into one :3

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐘!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ friendly banter often devolved into mean spirited teasing, but there’s a fine line that you regretfully cross. Or did you?

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! boothill. window sex. degradation. overstimulation. humiliation kink. biting. dumbification(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : ignore the fact that i forgot boothill cannot curse SHHHHH. but it’s finally done and im too tired to proofread this ;-;

friendly banter was a given in your relationship with boothill. you couldn’t help yourself to the free entertainment as the cyborg was forced to get creative with the troublesome filtering system that was installed in his mechanical body, much to his annoyance. 

every swear word he spat out, every nasty phrase that’d slip off his tongue would become the polor opposite. it’d make you chuckle a bit hearing him call you the sweetest names with reluctance in his voice. 

you on the other hand, often have a whole field day with it. spewing out sarcastic and maybe creative remarks just to rile him up even more, only to burst out laughing at his failed comebacks. it was a constant spit for spat that would last until one of you gave up and ended it with a soft make out session or cuddling in your shared bedroom. however, there’s an invisible line in the sand, one you wished you could’ve seen. 

another back and forth, like usual. as the more aggressive you got with boothill, so does your language. you teetered on the edge of your own teeth, slowing coming at his little fuck up’s like his heavily filtered system and his obnoxious munching of his own bullets. the ranger would shoot back with his own attempts, only passing off sarcastic and subtle remarks about that mouth of yours. the tension in the air only grew thicker and thicker before your words finally cut it in two. 

“I dunno why you should be talkin’ bootie, after all, you're just a fucktoy! ♡”

a cackle bursted from your lungs, as you tried to catch your breath. while you were stuck in a state of victory from having the last laugh, you didn’t quite catch the sudden silence that washed over the room until a chill shot at the back of your neck. turning your head, you were met with an unamused boothill, jaw clenched and eyes burning holes into your skull. your laugh diminished into tiny nervous sounds as the machine promptly marched his way to you, ignoring your babbles and apologies as your back pressed against the wall. you understood quickly that despite the unhinged nature of your verbal play fights, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed. 

a raspy chuckle tickled your eardrums. “me? a fucktoy? now look who’s talkin’ sweet thing..” 

boothill, now wearing a hungry grin on his lips, promptly threw you over his shoulder with a harsh smack! on your ass. before you could protest, you were chucked onto the nearest soft furniture he saw, in this case being the couch. 

the window in front of it showing off a dazzling view of Penacony, the perfect place to show you off. it didn’t take long for your clothes to be torn clean off by his metal fingers and discarded on the floor while you whined loudly. something that warranted a palm over your pouty lips. 

“shh, now now doll..i don’t think fucktoys can speak. Now can they?” 

he spoke with faux sympathy traced in his tone, as you could only lie there helplessly while his cold hands traced your delicate flesh. boothill was an unpredictable man, some nights he takes it easy while the others have his more cynical nature leak through, tonight being the latter. you screwed your eyes shut once pleasure crawled through your skin, the ranger prying and poking at every sensitive corner of your body. from his ice cold fingers pinching your hard nipples, to his shark-like teeth nipping at your neck. 

“a-sll this..over an insul–” 

“shut it.” 

you flinched, unable to prepare yourself for what the machine had in store for you. you nearly forgot how hard he can be, until you felt something poking at your thighs. 

seven rounds, and he had yet to stop.

your jaw went slack so long ago, nothing but incoherent words and pleading coming out of your fucked out mouth. the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue which rolled out and is now pressed against the glass with the rest of your naked body.

“Ah..! B-Boothill! T-They’ll see uh—us!”

you whimpered, unable to string two words together without a sharp thrust ripping another sound out of your throat. through blurred vision, you could see Golden Hour in all its glory, praying that nobody spots your ilicit act with the ranger. your knees buckled, already weak from how long you’ve been standing without a break as boothill snapped his hips against yours while his teeth sunk into your shoulder for what seemed like the upteenth time.

“you think i give a crap doll? now keep that pretty mouth shut like i asked.”

he hissed in your ear, squeezing the plush of your thighs that were littered with teeth marks. you mewled, feeling the knot in your stomach snapping once again and throwing you into another intense orgasm. your hand curled up into a tight fist, almost banging itself against the foggy glass as stars filled your vision. a raspy chuckle was all you could hear, courtesy of an insatiable and spiteful boothill. he watched as you lost balance and fell onto his metal chest, breathing heavily between sobs.

“awee..~ tired already, doll?”

he cooed, you just wanted to sock his stupid smirk off his face. instead, you pouted, letting out an annoyed whine as you squirmed from his cock simply sitting inside you without moving an inch.

“maybe watch that tongue next time, hon’. then i’ll go easy on ya.”

he laughs, before pressing your limp body against the messy glass again and snapping his hips against yours with his relentless pace. feeling your brain melting from the overwhelming amount of cock he’s stuffing into you, you could only hang on for dear life as boothill made you eat your own words.

quite literally too.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.