one of zoro's many favourite things about dating you is how you pick up on each other's mannerisms.
◟ꪆ୧ nsfw (afab!reader, thigh riding, groping, fingering) porn with a tiny bit of plot, though the plot is mostly fluffy! based on this request! spreading my titty fiend!zoro agenda... reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!! (ʃƪ＾∇＾) !
w.c : 3.2k.
also on ao3 + op masterlist !
“don’t ever come back here again!”
“you don't own the ship, asshole! I'll go wherever I want!”
dodging a kitchen knife, zoro slammed the door to the galley shut, stomping down the corridor as anger seethed through him.
“can’t even get a drink in peace,” zoro growled as he clutched at one of his swords, pushing open the door to your room, having half the mind to turn back around and slice the cook up a bit until he set eyes on your bed.
he found you sprawled out horizontally over the covers, one of his too-big-for-you shirts pulled over your sleeping body, head falling off of one of the pillows, while you hugged the other tight against your chest.
now, one thing zoro loved about dating you was seeing just how much you influenced each other.
when you’d both first joined luffy’s crew, you’d snap and whine at him for napping at the most random intervals of time, kicking him awake or simply complaining very loudly with nami about how he used his free time, driving the swordsman up the walls.
yet after all that time spent grumbling about his sleeping habits before you’d gotten together (and maybe a bit more after that), here you were. messily spread out on your shared bed with drool running down your chin, taking one of those naps you once objected so much against.
he held in a laugh, his tiff with the cook fizzling away in his mind as he took in your sleeping figure, the light from the afternoon sun shining into the room and hitting you in an almost angelic way, which for zoro, you were nothing but.
he carefully propped up his swords against the wall, shaking his shoes off before silently moving towards what you’d both silently agreed on was his side of the bed, though thanks to the way you had moved around in your bed, were now occupied by your bare legs.
zoro had once heard about how you moved around a lot during your sleep, having heard nami’s complaints about your sleepy kicks or slaps back when you used to share a bed with her, always laughing loudly at the way you would shy away from her in embarrassment, unaware of how squirmy you were asleep.
surprisingly enough, though, the moment you started to sleep alongside zoro, you stopped moving. maybe it was because of his incredible pain tolerance (since one slap from you would hardly register as painful) that your movements didn’t stir him awake, or maybe it was because of the unyielding grip he had on you the moment his arms found your wriggly body.
he found it hilarious that it was the latter.
zoro carefully took both of your ankles in one hand, pushing your legs and subsequently moving your body so you were lying in a more “appropriate” manner, though considering the many times he’d ended up horizontal on a bed, he shouldn't really be judging.
once he’d made enough space for himself, he let go, kneeling on the mattress before pulling his shirt and haramaki off, polloping himself down on the bed as soon as he’d flung them across the room (something he knew he’d get reprimanded for later).
a grunt left him as he tried to get comfortable, arms immediately spread out instinctively to find your body, wrapping them around your waist and dragging you across the already messy covers into his chest.
you let out a whine as the rough movements forced you to let go of the pillow you’d been cuddling, though seemed to immediately calm down once you subconsciously realised whose arms you were now in.
“messy girl,” zoro murmured as he looked around the state your bed’s covers were in after what he assumed had been less than an hour (he clearly recalled you screaming at luffy for something or other a bit before he’d wandered into the kitchen), craning his head so he could press a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “mean, too. napping without me…”
he adjusted the arm underneath you so it was right against your neck, not wanting for you to grow uncomfortable with it digging into your waist, watching as you immediately rested your head against his warm bicep, letting out a soft noise of content.
his other arm, though, had completely other plans. he moved it from its place around your waist, dragging his hand underneath the oversized shirt of his you’d stolen, placing his warm palm right above the elastic band of your panties, chuckling as your body shivered in response.
one thing you'd quickly learned about zoro the moment you'd started dating was that he loved your tits.
he'd once “joked” about throwing all of your bras overboard one day in which you'd walked out of your room without one, eyes trained to your chest each time you walked by, not shying away from showing his attraction to you in that state, though you (and everyone else who had heard his proclamation) knew he was fully capable of doing it.
zoro's hands were on you every chance you got, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing like they were stress balls, thumb and index slowly working on your pebbling nipples, chin perched on your shoulder and just watching, never making a sound except for the sighs or grunts that would leave him in response to your own whimpering noises.
sometimes it wasn't even sexual. sometimes he just found comfort in groping you, playing with the flesh as you say in his lap working on something or as a stress reliever after a particularly gruelling battle.
this, he thought as slid one of his legs between yours, was not one of those times.
zoro leaned down to press kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulder, leading a trail right up to the spot behind your ear, smirking as you shivered in response to the soft blow of air from his breathing.
“...’ro.” you mumbled sleepily, hand moving to cover the one that had started playing with your tummy, stirring awake due to his movements, completely different to how zoro could sleep through wars if he wished to.
“mornin’,” he joked breathlessly into your ear, deciding to continue teasing as he nibbled at your ear lobe, making you squeak and try to move away. “hey, hey, stop moving.”
“stop bitin’!” you slurred out tiredly, swatting at his face with a huff, knowing it was probably pulled into an annoyingly smug look.
“can't… ‘specially not when you look this cute in my shirt, all sleepy…”
“you get turned on by the weirdest things…” you groaned, already feeling his hand start to move up your abdomen, going directly towards his two favourite things.
his teeth immediately sunk into your neck in response to your little insult, taking advantage of your body's natural reaction to the pain to finally grab at your tits, tugging at your nipple almost immediately, his other arm moving from the position he'd previously put it in to grab at your other tit, not wanting to leave out any of your two girls.
“you’re so pervy, zo… y’re no better than-” your words were cut off as you moaned out in surprise at the immediate attack on your slowly pebbling nipples, the action sending shockwaves through your body, arms lying stiff at your side as you tried to decide what do with your hands, teasing words fizzling away in your mind, too busy enjoying the way your boyfriend was massaging your chest.
“don't.” zoro growled into your ear with a pinch to your nipples, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth at the little retaliation, knowing full well what was about to leave your mouth, not wanting to think about the perv-cook when he was in the middle of playing with his girl's tits.
“m-meanie…” you gasped, back arching at the slight pain that accompanied the pleasure that rushed through your body at his actions, feeling the leg that he'd slipped between your own start to move, the coarse material of his trousers along with the pressure of his thigh pressing tight against your panty-clad core.
“yeah? ‘m just a big meanie?” zoro grunted, licking at the spot he'd previously sunk his teeth in, slowly but surely moving his thigh back and forth, loving the way your tiny frame jumped and shivered at every stimulation he gave.
“y-yeah-” breathlessly, you started to move down to meet the movements of his stiff thigh, muscles rippling between your legs despite the little effort it took for him to move like this in comparison to you, who was already growing tired from the constant movements without the help like you usually had.
“this is me being nice,” he licked a stripe up your neck to the spot behind your ear, where he pressed a very uncharacteristically sweet kiss to, your mind flowing with confusion as to how he could focus on kissing, groping and grinding into you all at once.
well, considering you were dealing with a man who fought with three swords, you shouldn't be surprised at his dexterity.
each movement of his thigh against where you needed him most sent waves of pleasure through your tired body, and you could anxiously tell that you were leaving a damp spot on his trousers by the way you were dripping, your boyfriend's ministrations enough to get your pussy soaked.
it also didn't help that each time he pulled his leg forward, his knee would bump against your already throbbing clit, sending shockwaves up your spine and forcing whines out of your wet lips, saliva pooling in your mouth and threatening to slide down your chin like it previously had been doing during your nap.
“y’really don't want me to be mean,” he taunted, leaving more kisses across the expanse of skin his too-big shirt exposed for him to touch, fingers letting go of your already abused nipples, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips at that, focusing instead on groping at the rest.
at your lack of response, zoro grinned, basking in the sounds you were making before he slid his leg out of yours, not missing the way they immediately tried to press down onto it, a horrified sound leaving you at the sudden lack of pleasure.
“z-zo!” you exclaimed, trying to turn around to look at him, but by the way he had you pressed tightly against, you found that movement to be impossible. “wh-what was that for?”
your whines were music to his ears, ignoring the way you were squirming in his arms, though his hands continued to play with your tits. “what was what for?”
he acted like he hadn't just put a pin in your pleasure, instead moving to grind his front against your backside, evidence of his growing pleasure pressing into your ass.
“mean enough for you now?”
you whined at his taunt, a gasp escaping you as one of his hands let go of your tits, confusion filling you as to what that lonely hand would be getting up to.
“‘m sorry!” you whined, finding it slightly ridiculous that you were apologising for simply implying that your boyfriend was being mean, though you would've done anything to get that beautiful pleasure back. “please- please…”
“please what?” you could hear the smirk in his voice, though by the way his hand was already trailing down your stomach towards your soaked cunt, you knew you wouldn't have to do any more begging except to please him.
“touch- touch me, pleaseee…” you begged, even though his index and middle finger were already teasing the spot right above your clit, tracing the soft texture of your panties, trying to discern which pair you'd worn that day.
“there's my girl.” he grinned, pride filling him up as he finally got that initial brattiness out of you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as his fingers went up to the elastic band of your underwear, reaching his hand under it and running over your pubic hair, fingers sliding right between your soppy folds.
your breath hitched in your throat as he immediately found your tiny bundle of nerves, already an expert on how your body worked and what you needed from him, rubbing slow circles into it like he knew you liked, a sharp contrast to the way he'd previously been grinding his leg against it.
your legs twitched with every movement, your pleasure picking up from where he'd left off, tummy growing warm as he toyed with you, and though you could feel yourself slowly making your way up to your orgasm, you knew zoro wouldn't let you cum just like that.
“shit, she's a messy girl, jus’ listen to her…” he murmured, referring to the sounds your cunt was making with every move of his finger, adding a second one in hopes that the cacophony of sounds would increase.
“don't teaseee…” you drawled out, lolling your head back against his shoulder as he peppered kisses all over you, sliding his fingers around the erogenous zones around your clit, sparking pleasure all over you.
“‘m not teasing.” he grunted, his hips jerking slightly to make contact with your ass, rubbing his erection against you in tandem with his own fingers, though still completely zeroed in on your pleasure. “I jus’ know what she wants.”
you puffed out your cheeks, though whatever you were about to snap back died in your throat as he finally slid his fingers down to your soaked entrance, teasingly running his fingers around the ring of muscles.
“fuck, y’feel tight.” zoro groaned, the heel of his palm pressing right into your clit, stimulating your little nub with each twitch of his fingers.
“gonna fuck me open?” you jeered, out of breath at the continuous amount of pleasure being forced onto your sleepy body, another wave of slick leaving your cunt at the thought of getting fucked.
“fuck, I wish…” zoro rasped, cock twitching against your back at the shared idea, shaking his head slightly, too comfortable in this position to move around. “not today, though. ‘m just enjoying playing with your little cunt for now.”
he slipped his middle finger into your hole before you could even reply, though he knew you had no qualms with his reply, always admiring his hands and exclaiming how much you loved having them on your pussy.
his finger immediately found your g-spot, arching it to rub against the spongy spot that made your toes curl, palm still grinding against your clit deliciously.
“s-so good!” you cried out, one of your hands grabbing at the arm he'd shoved down your panties, nails digging into his tanned skin in pleasure, though no pain registered, too busy playing with your cunt to focus on it.
“yeah? ‘course it is, it's me.” he said, ego inflating at his own words as you twitched in his arms, slipping another finger into your tight heat to join the attack on your g-spot, his other hand still playing with your tit, warm pleasure building up in your tummy as he worked you out. “‘know you better than anyone.”
fuck, it almost pissed you off how right he was.
“no one like me, right?”
“no one!” you cried out on instinct, moving your hips in tandem with his hand, amplifying the rising pleasure and grinding back on his stiff cock at the same time. “only one for me, zo!”
“atta fucking girl.” he spat out, breathless from the possessive talk and the own pleasure that was rushing through his body, pre leaking from his tip and forming a wet patch against his trousers. “y’close?”
“mhm!” you shook your head up and down aggressively, moans and whines tumbling out of your mouth as you neared your peak, hand pulling at zoro's arm to alert him of it and ask that-
“I got you, don't worry.” he sighed, knowing what you wanted before you even said it out loud, pulling his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, pressing his wet fingers against your clit like you wanted and rubbing quick circles onto it, your legs shaking as your hips tried to keep up with the sudden switch in stimulation, though thankful for the help, as it was what you needed to get where you wanted to the most.
“fu-fuck, zoro! m’so close!”
zoro knew what that meant. already too familiar with your body and your needs, he knew that that meant to continue whatever he was doing. not to speed up, not to slow down, not to switch techniques, just keep doing what was making his girl scream.
“it's okay, I got you,” he almost purred, grip tightening on your tit as his hips jutted out to search for stimulation on his leaking cock, although he knew he'd probably be able to cum just by witnessing your orgasm alone.
“oh god, oh god-” zoro grunted at your words, knowing that he'd usually let out a teasing ‘god’s not fucking you this good, baby’, at your whiny words, smirking as you immediately changed your tune. “zoro! oh, zoro, zoro!
your mouth flew open in a silent scream as you finally reached your peak, riding out your orgasm with help of zoro's fingers, that were quickly covered in slick by the way you'd came, soaking both his hand and your panties, probably even leaking onto the already messy covers.
you whined as the hand that had been groping you moved to grab at your neck, moving your head painfully to a side so zoro could slot his lips against yours, drinking up your moans and whimpers as you swapped spit, eyes wide open and taking in the way you were falling apart on his fingers.
you quickly found yourself twitching in overestimation once your orgasm washed away, whining into zoro's mouth, a telltale sign to slowly stop his ministrations.
“hey, hey…” he shushed you as he leaned back, letting you lie down properly as he propped himself up on the bed, watching you shiver in the aftershocks of your orgasm as he pulled his fingers back from your perky clit, leaning back down quickly to press a kiss between your furrowed brows. “y’okay?”
you hummed in response, cracking your eyes open to take a look at your grinning boyfriend, his face flushed and sweaty as his chest rose and fell with each quick breath, almost like he'd-
“zo, just by-?”
“just by seeing you, yeah.” he exhaled, eyes flicking down to his bulge, cock softening against his trousers as he himself came down from his high, bringing the fingers he'd used on you up to his mouth and licking them clean, eyes darting around the room as if he wasn't in the middle of licking your juices off his fingers.
“don't goooooo…” you whined, knowing he was probably looking for the closest thing he could use to clean you up, much rather preferring cuddles with your boyfriend to a dry cunt.
you outstretched your arms out to him and made grabby hands, watching as he grinned in response to your need actions, landing on top of you with a grunt and resting his head right on the tits he'd previously been attacking.
“brute!” you gasped, hands finding solace in his hair and running through his green strands, pouting down at your boyfriend.
“mmm… next time don't let me suck your tits, unless you wanna see a real brute.”
𐙚 eddie accidentally walks in on you changing in the locker room at school and falls in love with the cute pair of panties you're wearing.
WARNING(S) + OTHER INFO: eddie is 19 / reader is 18. unprotected sex.
first period gym is always a mess — half of hawkins high barely awake, the other half already sweaty and irritable. and eddie munson is always both after the first period of the day this year ; a schedule he didn't ask for, rather one that was thrust upon him by the school guidance counselor. he trudges out of the locker room with his backpack flung over one shoulder, muttering to himself about dodgeballs being ❝ weapons of jocks who peaked at sixteen. ❞
he desperately needs to pee before homeroom ; his morning coffee and cigarette are already staging a rebellion.
he tries the boys’ bathroom first, of course.
but finds every single stall occupied.
each one of them echoing with the sounds of boys talking through the stalls, arguing, or pissing for 5 minutes at a time. like, seriously, it takes a guy that long to pee?
eddie huffs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and scans the hallway. he has a thought — despite high school girls' proclivities to linger in and outside of bathrooms together doing god knows what, the girls' bathroom by the female locker rooms has usually emptied by this time ; no normal teenage girl wanted to spend any prolonged amount of time sweaty and gross by the gymnasium. no, they definitely wanted to get the hell out of there so they could go back to gossiping or snogging their boyfriends in the hall.
quickly, practically skipping over that way before his bladder has a chance to explode, eddie hovers by the doorway, listening.
nothing. not even the squeak of a shoe.
❝ two seconds, ❞ he mutters to himself. ❝ get in, get out, don’t get suspended. ❞
he steps forward —
— and realizes the angle of the bathroom entrance gives him a clear view straight into the girls’ locker room.
who the hell designed this shit?
he freezes.
because someone is there.
he really doesn't mean to look. truly. he stops because he doesn't want to get caught trying to get into the girls' room, not because he's a creep.
but you . . . god, he'll blame you for this until the day he dies.
you're just pulling your pink t-shirt on, your plain white PE shirt discarded on the bench beside you. your arms are raised, hair falling over your shoulders in soft waves. and below the hem of that shirt . . . well, any self-respecting man wouldn't have been able to look away from you. and eddie munson certainly would not have described himself as ❛ self-respecting. ❜ his dark gaze hits soft, lacy pink panties — dainty white trim, pink satin bows, something so delicate and pretty they don’t even look real in the fluorescent lighting of the dingy locker room.
eddie’s brain short-circuits and he finds himself unable to move.
his lips actually part.
his heart jumps so hard against his ribcage that it startles him.
his cock strains immediately against the front of his jeans.
god hates him personally, he's sure of that.
and every fantasy he’s shoved down all year — the ones about you, about the popular girl with the smile much too pretty for him — flashes like lightning behind his eyes.
he doesn’t mean to make the sound he makes.
but something slips out anyway — a tiny, breathless little exhale, almost a whimper, definitely a sigh — the kind that only happens when your nervous system completely abandons all dignity.
and you hear it.
you turn.
slowly.
eyes wide.
expression shifting from bored to startled to something sharp and then, offended.
eddie’s stomach drops straight through the floor.
you caught him.
you caught him staring.
at you. half-naked.
and it looks like his worst nightmare. it looks exactly like he’s been standing there purposely to watch you getting dressed.
his face blanches. you've never seen anyone so white before.
❝ shit. hey. ❞ he stumbles back a step, hands up, panic rising. ❝ i — i wasn’t — i mean, i didn’t— ❞
he may have been able to mutter some excuse and just back up and leave, but.
his hard on is what kills him.
because your gaze is sinking lower and lower, your eyes widening.
the fact that you can tell how turned on he is only serves to ratchet his arousal even higher. the penis is a traitorous thing, if it's anything at all.
you quickly snatch up your PE shirt from the bench and use it to hide your lower half. not that there's any point — he's already seen everything there is to see. ❝ pervert! ❞ you accuse. your voice cracks on the last syllable, like you're not sure whether to throw something or hide your face in your hands.
only then does it occur to eddie to look away.
he turns his face away, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand for good measure. but the sight of you is well and truly seared onto his eyelids. ❝ no! i swear, i — i'm not. i was just coming to see if the bathroom was free. everyone's hogging the fucking stalls in the boys' room. i swear to god! ❞
there's a very pregnant pause, like third trimester pregnant, in which eddie separates two of his fingers to peek through at you.
standing there, breathing heavily, still with your PE shirt dangling in front of you. ❝ . . . seriously? you didn't come in here just to . . . try to see girls naked or something? ❞
❝ no! oh my god, no. i seriously . . . i have to pee so bad. ❞
❝ then go! ❞ you shout suddenly, and eddie flinches.
hurrying into the bathroom with a ❝ okayjesusi'msorryfuck! ❞
locking himself in one of the stalls, he pauses, leaning against it. his heart is racing, breath coming fast to match. god, you . . .
your legs, fuck, he can't help it. and those panties, jesus . . .
so pink and cute. eddie's never seen anyone wear such cute underwear, not even the few girls he's been with over the years. well, the girls he's had sex with probably wouldn't ever have been caught dead in a pink top let alone pink underwear.
but you. you had such wide eyes, pretty little lips, long, satisfying legs. not to mention that little sliver of ass that showed just below the lacy trim of those panties . . . eddie licks his lips, head rolling against the stall door.
his cock throbs and he palms himself through his jeans. how the hell is he ever supposed to pee like this?
well, he has to find some way to go ; if he walks out of here still with an enormous erection, you'd probably take the matter to the principle or some shit. and you'd be well within your right to.
god . . .
eddie does his best to piss and urge his hard on down in record time. he thinks of the most unsexy things he can bring to mind — santa clause, sad movies, the nightly news — and then finally feels well enough to leave.
it's only taken him a couple minutes, but he's hoping you've been able to get dressed and head out in that time.
but when he steps out of the bathroom you're still there. fully dressed now, but sitting on the nearby bench with your hands clasped together and your head hung low.
he would feel bad just leaving without saying anything, so he starts, ❝ hey. i really didn't mean to — ❞
❝ you have to promise, ❞ you tell him suddenly. the look on your face is fierce, and eddie has no doubt that you'd absolutely ruin him and his reputation ( what little is left ) and get him kicked out if he doesn't do as you say. you stand swiftly. ❝ promise me that you weren't looking on purpose. swear. like, swear on your mother's grave you weren't. ❞
his hand is over his heart before you can blink. ❝ i promise. and i swear. on my mother's life and her grave. i wasn't looking at you. i mean. that i didn't mean to. i seriously just came to use the bathroom. ❞ bad idea, now that he thinks back on it.
should have just held it.
you chew the inside of your cheek, apparently mulling over his words. ultimately finding him sincere enough, you nod. ❝ okay. you can go. ❞
there's a brief moment where the two of you look at each other, your eyes flicker down to eddie's jeans and then back up again, curious.
but eddie rushes out of there just as the homeroom bell rings.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the halls between second and third period are always packed — lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, the usual high school cacophony. eddie’s doing what eddie does best after class : leaning against his locker with the hellfire guys clustered around him, ranting loudly about some especially cursed arc he's planning for the campaign on friday.
he’s mid-sentence, halfway through defending himself against wild accusations that he's a sadistic dungeon master, when he feels it.
that prickle down his neck.
that someone’s watching you feeling.
he looks up.
and there you are, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
and there he is, replaying the scene again in his mind for the 17th time in the last two hours ; pink lace hugging such a plump ass, gorgeous hips running down from under your shirt and into those adorable panties.
it's a miracle he doesn't pop a boner right there in front of all his friends.
and a good thing he doesn't, too, because he realizes you are walking straight toward him. you look like a girl who's on a mission, a girl who has the upper hand.
eddie panics immediately, because, he remembers, you do.
his voice cracks halfway through explaining, ❝ guys, your party hasn't really been tested heavily yet — ❞ he can't take his eyes off of you.
he's making no effort to disguise the fact that he's looking at someone across the hallway.
gareth mutters, ❝ what is . . . is she coming over here? to us? ❞
eddie doesn’t even have time to tell them to shut the hell up.
you stop right in front of him.
up close, god, you look even better than he remembers. and he absolutely does NOT look at your legs this time. or your hips. or anything he is scared of accidentally remembering too vividly. no, nothing else he's spent hours in bed at night fantasizing about. even though much of it was on display earlier, right there, just for him, if only you knew him. knew he wasn't a bad guy, didn't worship the devil or any of that bullshit people were saying about him and other people like him, kids who had ❛ weird ❜ interests.
he braces for you to publicly humiliate him. he deserves it, he supposes, for what happened earlier.
you say, very calmly, betraying nothing of what happened earlier, ❝ munson. i've decided you owe me. ❞
the hellfire boys collectively inhale like they’ve just witnessed a murder.
eddie can't decide what's worse — the fact that his friends are looking between the two of you, bewildered, and he's going to have to find some way to explain to them what happened earlier. or would it have been worse if you'd just screamed at him, gotten it all out in the open so the whole school would know what a disgusting pervert eddie munson was, along with being a freak and a devil worshipper?
eddie’s ears go nuclear red. ❝ i — i told you i didn’t mean — i didn’t, uh . . . invade anything or — ❞
you narrow your eyes. ❝ i know. you promised. i appreciate that . . . do you want to make it up to me or not? ❞
eddie nods so fast the ends of his long hair almost hit mike in the face.
❝ good. ❞ you step closer — close enough that he can smell you, something soft and sweet and some perfume that's definitely expensive. the hellfire club — in tandem — takes a step back and away from the two of you, but eddie somehow stands his ground in the face of you. ❝ take me for ice cream. at the mall. friday after school. ❞
there’s a half-second of stunned silence — the kind that doesn’t usually exist around eddie, because he typically fills every spare inch of air with noise. but right now? he’s speechless.
and of course that’s exactly when the club finds their voices again.
mike sputters first, ❝ wait — friday? but — but friday is hellfire. ❞
dustin’s eyes go wide under his cap. ❝ yeah, eddie. you literally said missing one session throws off the narrative structure of the whole campaign — your words, not mine — ❞
gareth throws his hands up. ❝ dude, you made us sign attendance sheets. attendance sheets. for dungeons & dragons. ❞
eddie whips around like a panicked, cornered animal. ❝ guys, guys — shut up — shut up — ❞ he hisses, waving at them without taking his eyes off you. ❝ i’m — busy. friday. okay? very important business. top secret. national security. ❞
mike looks like he’s about to faint. dustin looks personally betrayed.
you arch a brow, arms still crossed, entirely unbothered by the melodrama imploding behind him. ❝ is that a no, munson? you're really too busy fighting demons to buy me a scoop? ❞
and god, the way you say it — mocking him, but warm underneath, like you already know he’s going to fold — it just about finishes him off.
❝ saturday? ❞ he tries to offer quietly.
❝ i'm busy saturday. ❞
eddie straightens up, tries to pretend he has even one ounce of swagger left. ❝ uh — yeah. yes. absolutely. ice cream. friday. consider it . . . owed. ❞
dustin makes a noise like he’s swallowed a kazoo. ❝ you’re canceling hellfire for a girl? you've never cancelled hellfire, not even once. we still came to club even when you had bronchitis! i mean, what even . . . ❞
eddie doesn’t even look back this time. he just sticks an arm out and shoves dustin’s face gently away like he’s silencing a toddler. ❝ priorities, henderson. ❞
you almost smile — not fully, but enough that eddie feels it like a punch straight to the gut. he thinks he might actually die. it's almost better than seeing your ass in those delicious panties.
almost.
❝ good,❞ you say again, nodding softly. stamping an official seal on the arrangement. ❝ friday. after school. we can leave from here. don’t be late. ❞
and then you turn, disappearing back into the crowded hall without so much as a glance over your shoulder.
eddie stands there frozen, locker at his back, heart somewhere near his shoes, friends staring at him like he’s just announced he’s defecting to soviet russia.
mike is the first to break the silence, whispering, horrified, ❝ dude . . . what the hell? ❞
but eddie? eddie just stands there, feeling like a lump.
because he now has a date with one of the most popular girls in school and has to figure out how to explain to the boys exactly how that happened.
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the food court at starcourt always smells like an oil spill baking in the desert heat — fryer oil and fake cheese and that intense, cloyingly sweet smell from the pretzel place. you must, on some level, be immune to it by now, because you're sitting there like you own the place, leaning back, relaxed, a melting cup of roasted strawberry ice cream in front of you. you must come here every weekend with your friends.
eddie, however, is hyper-aware of everything else.
the way every table feels too close.
the way half the kids from hawkins high are filtering through, doing double takes.
the way two girls at the scoops ahoy counter that eddie recognizes as hawkins cheerleaders whisper behind their straws and stare.
one freshman boy literally almost falls into a trashcan because he’s so busy gawping, and apparently mesmerized, at the sight of you sitting pretty with eddie "the freak" munson across from you.
you don't seem to notice.
or maybe you do — maybe you're just pretending this is normal, like you come here all the time with the losers of the school.
eddie stirs his own ice cream, two scoops of mint chocolate chip, tapping the plastic spoon against the cup. ❝ so — technically — i don’t actually play, ❞ he says. he's clearly passionate about this game, this D&D — he's talking about it like it's something sacred and ancient. ❝ i’m the DM ; the dungeon master. i run the story. the monsters. the world. the . . . uh, chaos. ❞
you blink. ❝ so you don’t actually . . . fight anything? like, as a character? ❞
he snorts. ❝ no. hellfire is my kingdom. i’m basically a god. but, like, a very stressed out, underpaid god. ❞
you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding — a tiny, relieved little exhale. you look down into your soft serve like it just told you a secret.
eddie tilts his head. ❝ what? ❞
you hesitate, fiddling with your spoon before murmuring, ❝ i . . . thought D&D had something to do with, like . . . satanism. ❞
eddie chokes on absolutely nothing. seriously, he's not even swallowing any ice cream when he does.
and he really chokes.
full body cough.
a kid at the next table over jumps.
❝ jesus christ, sweetheart — ❞ he wheezes once he recovers, leaning in toward you, ❝ satanism? seriously? i mean, i like metal music, but we don’t, like, sacrifice goats in the woods on friday nights. i’ve barely got the energy to stay awake during homeroom. ❞
you laugh — a cute little tinkle that makes eddie's head spin — and shake your head. ❝ i know. i mean, now i know. it’s just . . . people say things, i don't know if you've heard. and the news . . . and one girl told me that your club played with actual spellbooks, so i kind of assumed . . . i don’t know. that you guys were doing something dangerous. ❞
eddie makes a face like you've personally offended him, and maybe you have. ❝ yeah, the most dangerous thing those kids do is eat an entire pizza while we're taking a break. dustin once drank a two liter of mountain dew in one go and almost died. that’s the level of danger we’re dealing with. ❞
your shoulders relax, and you look at him with those clear, bright eyes that eddie could just fall into.
❝ i thought you’d be mean, too, ❞ you admit quietly. ❝ or scary. you know. the whole ❛ freak ❜ thing . . . the rumors. i figured you’d be . . . intense. or angry. i don’t know. i mean, you are intense. clearly. ❞ you laugh gently to show him you're not being rude, just making an observation. ❝ but you’re not mean. you’re actually . . . nice. surprisingly nice. ❞
eddie’s face goes pink — not the dramatic blush from earlier in the week, but something subtler. warmer. his ringed fingers twitch like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
❝ well, uh . . . thanks? i try not to be a jackass unless provoked. or unless someone insults my van. or my band. or my campaign. ❞
you grin into your spoon. ❝ so . . . often? ❞
❝ okay, wow. rude. ❞ he points at you with his spoon. ❝ i buy you one — extremely overpriced — cup of ice cream and suddenly i’m the punchline. ❞
you frown. ❝ i'm not a bully. ❞
❝ coulda fooled me, the kids you hang out with. ❞
your frown deepens, and you both look at each other for a long minute.
and that’s when you notice it — the stares. the looks. the not-at-all subtle curiosity of your peers.
a group of basketball players walks by, whispering. one of them lifts his brows at you like he’s silently asking if you're doing this as some kind of dare.
two sophomores pass by and giggle.
a girl from your math class keeps glancing between the two of you like she’s witnessing an honest to god miracle.
eddie shifts a little, shoulders tensing, but he doesn’t get small the way you expect. he doesn’t shrink. he just sits up straighter, tapping his rings against the table, pretending that the entire food court isn’t buzzing about the freak sitting with a girl way, way out of his league.
after a moment he mutters, ❝ you can leave, you know. if this is, uh . . . too weird. i mean, i know you asked me, but. ❞
you look up.
really look.
his eyes are dark and nervous and hopeful in a way that makes your chest do something uncomfortable. goodness, you realize he has the longest eyelashes you've ever seen on a man.
❝ i’m not leaving, ❞ you say, soft but firm. ❝ it’s just ice cream, munson. people can stare if they want. i don’t care. ❞
eddie blinks.
like he wasn’t expecting that.
like he doesn’t quite know what to do with the fact that you’re still here, that you’re not afraid being seen with him might turn you into a total social pariah.
you take another bite of your ice cream, pretending your heart isn’t beating too fast.
then: ❝ besides . . . the rumors were wrong about you anyway. you’re not a freak. ❞
eddie swallows, hard.
he doesn’t say anything for a second — just watches you, stunned, like no one has ever said something like that to him before. maybe they haven't. it's quite possible no one has ever been nice to eddie munson in his life. the hellfire club boys, sure. they've been friendly with him. but maybe what eddie needs is someone sweet, someone to baby him — just a little.
finally, he clears his throat. ❝ well… don’t say it too loud. people might think you actually like me or something. ❞
you look at him over the rim of your cup.
❝ maybe i do. ❞
eddie pulls a face. ❝ what, from one conversation over some ice cream? ❞
❝ do i have to remind you what happened earlier this week? ❞ eddie's entire face goes blood red ; he's remembering as you talk. ❝ i believe you. i know you weren't looking on purpose. i think you handled it better than most of the popular guys at school would have. they probably would’ve kept staring until i threw my backpack at them or something. and . . . ❞
you mull over what to tell him, how much to reveal. ❝ . . . maybe i noticed you before that. saw you in the halls between class, at lunch with your club. maybe i was . . . curious. ❞
eddie scowls, dark brows pulling close together over even darker eyes. ❝ even though you thought i was mean? that you thought i was an evil, satan worshipping freak? ❞ he says it like he thinks you're trying to pull the wool over his eyes, like he's trying to catch you in a lie.
❝ sure did. but . . . was hoping you weren't. was hoping you were secretly sweet, that you were even better than most of the boys i hang around with. they suck. ❞
eddie doesn’t know what to say, so he just very slowly eats another spoonful of his ice cream.
does he believe you? you hope he does. everything you’ve said is nothing but the truth.
❝ anyway, ❞ you sigh, playing idly with your ice cream and thinking of how to change the subject and make things less awkward. ❝ . . . i never knew D&D was just like lord of the rings. maybe i would’ve played sooner. ❞
there’s an aborted little movement from eddie’s side of the table that startles you. ❝ you’ve read the lord of the rings? ❞
❝ i’ve read just about every fantasy series there is to read, ❞ you explain with a shrug. ❝ i just . . . like reading. ❞
the look in eddie’s eyes changes now, becomes darker ; it looks like he has a secret he’s unwilling to tell you. ❝ jeez, princess. if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were the perfect girl. ❞
you try hard to just take what he’s said as a compliment. it’s hard, though, with that little caveat he snuck in there. ❝ oh, and you do? know better? ❞
your hand and eddie’s hand are laying side by side on the sticky tabletop. eddie’s fingers twitch toward yours. when he speaks, his voice is low, probably to avoid being overheard by any of your passing classmates. not because he’s ashamed of what he’s about to say, but because he doesn’t want to embarrass you. or have people start to spread nasty rumors about you the way they do about him.
❝ i know you’re pretty. very pretty. what i don’t know is why you’re sitting here with the school outcast giving people a reason to hate you. especially after i . . . y’know, on tuesday. ❞
in a microscopic movement, your fingers meet his, your knuckles now laying together. you aren’t sure who moves first, but eventually your fingers are brushing, back and forth, against each other’s, in the smallest of movements. even just that little bit of affection is enough to make you melt.
you lean toward him, trying to keep your cool and not just crawl all over him right here at the mall. ❝ eddie. in a year, none of these people will matter. their opinions, what they said, the things we did, it’ll all just be history. so let them talk. who gives a fuck? ❞
eddie blinks at you like you’ve just said something groundbreaking. your words — the way you just cursed casually, the confidence, your edge of defiance — they hit him straight in the gut. because that's not how you present. he feels it in a place he knows he shouldn’t, in that exact same traitorous spot from tuesday morning. his fingers twitch against yours, restless, and you let your thumb curl around his index finger, comforting. eddie looks at your entwined hands and then away, scanning for anyone still paying attention to the two of you.
❝ remember what i said, ❞ you mutter, pinkie extending to lay against his warm wrist. ❝ fuck ‘em. ❞
❝ jesus, you’re something else, you know that? ❞ his voice is low too, private, just for you.
you smile a mischievous smile, taking a slow lick of your ice cream, making sure his eyes are now locked on yours. ❝ something good? ❞
eddie swallows so hard you can see his throat working through it, because yes. very good. good enough to make his stomach twist and his cock throb in his jeans. ❝ yeah . . . definitely good. ❞
he leans closer, slowly, still careful not to attract any more attention than is necessary, though he can’t quite hide the way his entire body has gone taut as a bowstring. god, you want to make him come undone. ❝ so . . . uh . . . this is going to sound insane, but . . . jesus, please don’t call me a pervert again, but. ❞ his voice dips lower, teasing you, but still uncertain. ❝ those panties. tuesday. they . . . they were kind of . . . distracting. ❞
you pause, spoon frozen halfway to your lips, eyes flickering down to where he’s turned his hand over in yours, fingers full on skimming back and forth over the sensitive palm of your hand now. there’s a faint flush in your cheeks, and maybe — maybe — a smile that hints you’re enjoying the game he’s playing. ❝ distracting, huh? ❞ your tongue darts out, slices through the mound of soft ice cream on your spoon. ❝ oh really, eddie? kind of distracting? ❞
eddie’s teeth sink deep into his lower lip. ❝ yeah . . . kind of — no. you know what? not kind of. very. very distracting. don’t think i’m gonna forget what i saw. ❞
still his fingers sweep over your palm ; there are goosebumps prickling your entire arm.
you shiver in spite of yourself. ❝ eddie? ❞
your eyes are so wide, your tone so desperate . . . he panics. ❝ hm? hey, what’s wrong? did i say something? i still swear — i didn’t mean to look earlier, i promise it wasn’t on purpose. I would never — ❞
❝ eddie. take me somewhere we can be alone together. please. ❞ you’ve turned your hand over, effectively pinning his to the table. you are desperate, desperate for him. desperate for the way his lashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks, the way his lips move, the perfect timbre of his voice.
you’ve never wanted anyone this badly, and you’re sure he can tell.
he doesn’t have to be told twice. with a nod, he grabs your hand and starts to lead you back through the food court, abandoning your ice creams as you slip past curious glances and whispers until the large glass doors of the mall’s main entrance come into view.
but eddie doesn’t lead you there. he takes a hard turn and pulls you down a side hallway that looks like it might be just for maintenance.
you trust him, though, so you let him keep going, pushing through a small side door and into the brisk night air. into a world of abandoned furniture, wooden tables stacked crookedly, couches leaning against the wall, metal shelving scattered like a maze. the powerful docking bay flood lights hit the dust motes floating in the air, catching on your hair, making eddie catch his breath.
❝ wow, ❞ you sigh, looking around at all of the furniture. ❝ what is this? ❞
eddie shrugs, starting to pick his way past a garish settee. ❝ you told me to take you somewhere private. ❞
you can’t hold in a well-meaning giggle. ❝ yeah, i figured you were gonna take me back to your place. ❞
❝ oh. damn. well . . . i can still do that. ❞ he turns back, ready to leave.
❝ wait, wait. i wanna explore back here now. this is cool. i never knew this kind of stuff was back here.❞
❝ oh, yeah. back of the furniture store. i’ve only been here a couple times, but didn’t take me long to find this place. they don’t guard it very well. clearly. furniture graveyard back here. ❞
❝ you can hardly call it a graveyard, most of this shit is brand new. ❞ you stand on a plush red velvet footstool, trying to track eddie’s movements through the maze of furniture.
he seemingly picks out a suitable armchair the size of a small car, motioning you over.
grabbing your hand and helping you maneuver through the wreck of items, he makes sure you’re safe before taking a seat in the armchair.
eddie pats his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like of course this enormous abandoned armchair was meant for this — for you, for him, for whatever this is turning into.
you roll your eyes good-naturedly. ❝ seriously? ❞
eddie’s grin goes crooked, boyish, a little smug in that way he can’t quite hide around you. ❝ yeah. seriously. unless you’d rather sit on . . . ❞ he gestures vaguely at a nearby plastic patio chair missing one leg, the saddest item at the party. ❝ . . . that. ❞
you sigh, but it’s useless — you’re already moving toward him. already letting him guide you by the waist as you settle onto his lap.
his hands are warm. too warm, scorching your skin wherever they touch.
you sink into him, into the solid feel of his chest against you, the curve of the massive armchair cupping you both like a secret. you shift a little until you’re comfortable — which is sort of a lie, because there’s nothing comfortable about the way your heart is slamming around in its cage, nothing comfortable about the way his breath hitches when your thighs brush his.
eddie exhales through his nose like he’s trying very, very hard to be chill.
❝ well, hey there, princess, ❞ he murmurs, voice low enough to vibrate against your side. ❝ makin’ yourself right at home. ❞
❝ you told me to, didn’t you? ❞ you tease, turning halfway toward him. in this position, your legs are thrown over the side of the armchair, your bum seated comfortably atop his lap.
eddie’s eyes flicker briefly to your mouth. ❝ yeah, but i honestly didn’t expect you to be so . . . obedient. ❞
you shove his shoulder lightly. ❝ shut up. ❞
❝ no, i mean — ❞ his fingers flex on your hips, steadying you when you shift. ❝ — not complaining. definitely not. ❞
you can feel him adjusting under you, just slightly. enough that you know. enough that he knows you know.
your skirt drapes over your thighs, soft against his jeans, and when you move again — just a tiny test — eddie makes a noise like someone hit him with a truck.
you pretend you didn’t hear it.
he pretends he didn’t make it.
his hand — the one with all the rings — drops to your bare knee, barely touching. just fingertips. just testing. when you don’t flinch away, those fingertips glide up an inch. warm. slow. deliberate.
❝ you okay? ❞ eddie whispers, and you nod. your eyes feel hot, almost like you could cry. but it’s only that this is such a new sensation for you. you’ve never let anyone touch you like this, never trusted anyone to, not even some of the popular guys you’ve known for years.
why is eddie different?
instead of asking or saying any of that, you purse your lips. ❝ are you okay? ❞
❝ oh, sweetheart, ❞ eddie murmurs, thumb brushing the soft, tender underside of your knee now, ❝ not even close. ❞
you shift again — not on purpose, probably — but it doesn’t matter. his hand tightens on your knee, just enough to hold you still. just enough to tell you he feels everything.
you swallow, heat curling low in your stomach.
❝ eddie… ❞
❝ yeah? ❞ he nudges the side of your jaw with his nose, like he’s testing how close he can get before you push him away.
you don’t push him away.
his fingers slide higher, tracing the warm skin of your inner thigh, disappearing under the hem of your skirt like he’s trying not to rush but absolutely is.
your breath stutters.
eddie feels it.
he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice a rasp.
❝ you tell me to stop if you want. otherwise . . . ❞ his thumb strokes higher, bolder, ❝ . . . i’m gonna keep going. ❞
your hand covers his on your thigh — not to stop him.
but to guide him.
eddie makes another noise, this one even more alarming, though you don’t know how that’s possible.
you pull back a bit, just enough to look at him, to make sure he’s okay.
eddie looks like he’s drowning, dark eyes melting into yours as you continue to push his hand higher. ❝ gonna let me see those pretty panties again? ❞ he demands to know. ❝ gonna let me touch ‘em? ❞
your hand stops. and so does his. you’re shivering, breathing heavily, feeling like you could shake apart if he left you right now.
❝ not here, ❞ you mumble pitifully, and eddie nods.
❝ okay. ❞
unable to bear it anymore, you close your eyes.
and that’s when he kisses you.
eddie kisses like he’s been wanting you like this for years.
not timid, no longer even a touch hesitant. just hungry — that kind of desperate, relieved hunger reserved only for starving men faced with a meal and drug addicts who just got their fix.
his lips crash into yours, hard and warm, over and over, and your whole body jolts. you realize you’ve been hungry, too. starved for touch and affection and anyone who truly cared about you. he cups your jaw with one hand, thumb sweeping your cheekbone, the other arm locked tight over your legs like he thinks you might leave.
you melt instantly.
you don’t mean to — it’s instinct. the second his mouth opens against yours, your fingers go to his chest, clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer even though there’s nowhere left to go. he’s already pressed against you everywhere — chest firm, thighs solid under yours, the heat of him pushing up through the underside of your skirt.
the kiss deepens fast — too fast — like he’s been imagining it, like you’ve been torturing him just by existing. his breath tastes like the mint chocolate ice cream he’s been enjoying and something bitter underneath, but not unpleasant. something unmistakably eddie.
his nose bumps yours when he tilts his head, clumsy, eager, borderline messy, which only makes this more real. his mouth fits against yours in that perfect, greedy way that makes your thighs tense and your stomach leap into your throat.
eddie groans — a low, rough, startled sound — the second your lips part from his. it vibrates through his chest and into yours, and you swear you could come undone from that alone.
and then he’s pulling you up, hands strong on your waist. you gasp as he lifts you bodily and sets you down with your thighs now on either side of his. you can feel him now. really feel him. underneath your skirt, your underwear — similar to the pair you wore on tuesday, just with less bows and more lace — come into contact with the rough material of his jeans, tented by a very obvious erection. you really hope you’re not making an absolute mess down there.
his fingers slip into your hair, tugging gently, guiding your mouth open under his once more. his rings are cool against your neck when he cups the back of your head, holding you exactly where he wants you.
and you kiss him back with the same needy, aching urgency — because you want him, too. because you’ve wanted this longer than you’ll admit. because nothing has ever felt like this.
eddie breaks away just an inch, your foreheads pressed together, breathing hard.
❝ i have to admit something, ❞ he breathes.
you make a tiny sound, questioning. please don’t admit you’re actually a pervert who really does love spying on girls in the locker room, you think desperately.
❝ you said — ❞ he has to stop, catch his breath, swallow thickly. you soothe him with a hand at his jaw, thumb stroking over his heated skin. ❝ you said you noticed me before, in the halls at school? i noticed you, too. fucking everywhere, baby. in the halls, in class, at assembly, during PE. i’ve thought about you . . . fuck, i’ve thought about you so much. never thought i . . . i mean, what chance did i have with you? the freak of hawkins high? ❞
❝ don’t say that, ❞ you chide, grabbing for one of his hands, which you bring to your lips so you can kiss the inside of his wrist. that area smells so strongly of him you almost pass out. ❝ if we had just . . . i dunno, been paired for a project or . . . sat at the same lunch table, it sounds like this would have happened sooner. ❞
eddie’s dark gaze is cemented to yours, and his voice drops as he continues, like he’s afraid his words might shatter the moment if he speaks them too loudly.
❝ when i saw you standing there in those lace and bows, babe, you looked like — ❞ he exhales, shaking his head a little, disbelief curling at the edges of every syllable. ❝ like a fuckin’ elven princess straight out of one of my campaigns. swear to god, you looked all soft and pretty and . . . fuck. those panties. ❞
his fingers dig suddenly into the meat of your thigh, just under the edge of your skirt.
❝ pink lace. little bows. like you stepped right out of my brain and into that locker room. ❞ he kisses you again, softly, and against your lips he asks, ❝ . . . do they all look like that? or were you wearing those for like . . . a special occasion? ❞
you huff a laugh, smiling into the kiss. ❝ most of them. ❞
he pulls back and his brows lift, hope flaring.
❝ i mean, i have some normal pairs. but most of them are cute like that, yeah. ❞
eddie makes a sound that’s halfway between a choke and a moan and you grab anxiously for his fingers again, slipping them up and under your skirt. ❝ eddie, you can. you can touch. i just . . . i wanna wait until we’re back at your place to have sex. ❞
❝ we don’t have to, ❞ eddie tells you, and at your disappointed look he squeezes your thigh again, reassuring. ❝ i just mean, we can do whatever you want. i’m happy using my fingers or . . . my tongue. don’t feel like you owe me anything. ❞
❝ i want to, ❞ you let him know, urging his hand as high as it’s been now.
eddie watches you carefully as his fingers crawl up the tender skin of your thigh, and just as his thumb presses into the rough lacy edge of the cute lavender pair you’re wearing tonight —
❝ jesus christ, ❞ he mutters. ❝ you’re so fucking pretty, i don’t even deserve to look at you, let alone touch you. ❞
he’s suddenly tense against you, shoulders locking like he’s remembered who he is, where he stands in the pecking order of hawkins high. his hand falters under your skirt, like he’s about to pull it away entirely.
wanting anything in this moment but to lose his warm skin against yours, your palm slides to his cheek, warm and steady, fingers threading into his hair — which is surprisingly soft — to keep him right where he is.
❝ hey, ❞ you murmur. ❝ i told you not to think like that. or talk like that. ❞
his eyes flicker to yours, dark and uncertain.
❝ i’m not . . . too much for you? ❞ he asks quietly. ❝ or — i don’t know — wrong? ❞
you lean in and kiss him again, slow this time. not frantic. not rushed. just enough to make your meaning unmistakably clear.
when you pull back, you keep your nose brushing his.
❝ eddie munson, ❞ you whisper, ❝ i wouldn’t be letting you kiss me in the back of this mall if you weren’t exactly right for me. ❞
something in his face breaks open at that.
he swallows hard, then blurts, ❝ were you really gonna go to the principal? ❞
you blink. ❝ what? ❞
❝ after tuesday, ❞ he admits, embarrassed. ❝ i kept thinking you were gonna ruin my life, expel me or something. ❞ he may hate school, but there’s a reason he hasn’t dropped out yet.
you smile — remembering how you had indeed threatened to take the matter to the principle if eddie didn’t take you out. ❝ no. ❞
his eyes widen. ❝ no? ❞
❝ no, ❞ you repeat. ❝ i was just hoping you’d ask me out. ❞
eddie stares at you like you’ve just told him gravity isn’t real.
❝ you’re kidding. ❞
❝ i’m not. ❞ you shrug lightly, thumb again tracing the line of his jaw, that place you can’t stay away from. ❝ i figured if i scared you a little, you might actually do something. ❞
he lets out a breathy laugh, stunned. ❝ you are . . . terrifying. ❞
❝ worked, didn’t it? ❞
his answer is another kiss — deeper, slower. that thumb finally pushes its way beneath the band of your underwear, stroking the sensitive skin of your waist now. which leaves his other fingers reaching around, clenching at your backside.
you shiver, pressing in close to him. ❝ eddie? take me home now? ❞
eddie nods and stands immediately with you still in his arms.
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the drive to eddie’s place is . . . tense, to say the least.
he keeps drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel and glancing over at you until you sigh and reach over for his hand, place it on your thigh for him.
only then does he seem to calm, hand ghosting back and forth over your leg, although he does still look over at you periodically, like he’s still expecting you to scream for him to stop touching you.
when he makes the final turn, he takes a sharp breath and says, ❝ guess i should’ve mentioned i live . . . here. ❞
the van rolls to a stop in front of a trailer — porch light humming, dirty metal stairs leading up to an even dirtier front door.
❝ mhm, and? ❞ you already knew eddie lived here with his uncle, it wasn’t a secret. it was one of the many things jason carver and his goons liked to make fun of eddie for.
❝ well, it’s not exactly a house. ❞
❝ duh. ❞ you tug on his hand and whine, ❝ eddie. come on. ❞
luckily, he obeys without much more obstinacy, hopping from the van and coming around to your side to open the door for you.
❝ my lady. ❞ he speaks in a very good british accent, bowing low, clearly putting his D&D skills to good use.
with a giggle, you take his hand and let him lead you to the door.
it’s gotten fairly cold out, so you stand shuffling from foot to foot as eddie unlocks the door.
even after you’ve gotten inside, you waffle by the entryway, shivering as eddie flits around turning on lights. ❝ if you’re hungry, i think there’s some pizza in the fridge. i also always have pretzels lying around here somewhere. ❞
he’s coming back for you down the hallway where he’s turned on a side light, mumbling something about, ❝ sorry it’s kind of a mess in here. my uncle works nights and — ❞
you greet him with a kiss, giving meaning to the phrase ❛ throwing yourself at him. ❜ his mouth is wet and hungry under yours, steadying the two of you as he stumbles back with his arms around you.
yours are flung around his shoulders, on tiptoe in order to be able to continue kissing him properly. ❝ eds. touch me. ❞
eddie makes a low sound into your mouth — one you can only describe as needy — and his hands find you instinctively, both under your skirt, suddenly gripping your ass.
❝ goddamn, is that . . . ❞ his breath catches in his throat and you step forward to latch your lips to his adam’s apple. ❝ is that . . . silk? ❞
❝ satin, ❞ you correct him with a smile, worrying your teeth over his skin. he’s going to have one hell of a hickey on his throat monday at school.
❝ god, ❞ he murmurs. ❝ you’re gonna kill me. ❞
you smile against his neck. ❝ bedroom, then? ❞
that does it.
he laughs and takes your hand, tugging you down the narrow hallway. he stops halfway down to bang on the thermostat. ❝ sorry it’s kinda cold. heating system’s ancient. it should warm up in here soon. ❞
you merely run your free hand down his arm, trying to convey the sentiment that you don’t care, that there are more important things to be taken care of.
eddie’s room is lit but dim, familiar, lived-in ; band posters, scattered clothes, the faint hum of something electric in the background.
the door barely clicks shut before he’s kissing you again.
slow and deep, eddie memorizing every single one of your gasps and moans.
his hands are careful but everywhere — skimming up under your shirt, on your waist, under your skirt again — grounding himself in the reality of you standing here with him.
at some point, foreheads pressed together, he exhales shakily.
❝ can i ask you something? ❞
you nod, nose brushing his again.
❝ are you . . . ❞ he takes a lock of your hair and places it gingerly over your shoulder, stroking your tresses like you’re a doll to be pampered. ❝ is this your first time? ❞
you nod.
eddie’s hand stills in your hair. ❝ really? figured you’d have guys throwing themselves at you. ❞ his hand meets your waist again, squeezing as if to say ❛ how are you a virgin, looking like this? ❜
❝ guys try, ❞ you admit. ❝ but i really need to trust someone to want to do that with them. ❞
he studies you for a long moment, thumb tracing slow circles at your hip.
❝ and you trust me? ❞
another nod ; you’ve never been more sure of anything.
something in his chest visibly gives.
❝ jesus, ❞ he whispers. ❝ you have no idea what that does to me. ❞
he kisses you again — reverent now — starting to shuffle you back toward his bed.
❝ we’ll go slow, ❞ he murmurs against your lips. ❝ okay? ❞
❝ okay. i trust you, ❞ you tell him again.
❝ thank you. ❞
the both of you toe your shoes off and when he pulls you down with him onto the bed, it’s with care, letting you scoot up the bed until your head is on his pillows. everything smells so much like him now you never want to leave.
he flattens the messy covers around you and when he opens his mouth, you can tell he’s about to apologize again. for what, this time? for how disorganized his room is? for how cold it still is? just for being eddie munson?
you cut him off before he can. ❝ shh. don’t apologize. ❞
you pull him down over you by his shoulders, and eddie covers your body with his.
and though you’ve never done this before, your legs instinctually know where they should go — right around eddie’s tight waist, squeezing, never wanting to let him go.
eddie braces himself with a hand beside your head, while the other cups the outside of your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin.
❝ what you’ve been waiting for, ❞ you sigh, reaching for the zipper at your side.
eddie doesn’t answer, seemingly transfixed by your skirt or whatever’s beneath it.
tugging that zipper down, you let your skirt fall open around you and eddie takes a deep, sudden breath.
you’re encased in a pair of soft lavender satin panties tonight, the whole pair edged with lace with one big white bow at the front.
eddie has stopped moving.
his eyes drag slowly over you, dark and hungry and stunned, like he’s trying to convince himself you aren’t some cruel hallucination. his hand tightens on your thigh. ❝ baby . . . if this is some kinda prank, something your friends put you up to, you need to tell me now. ❞
❝ it’s not. ❞
❝ fuck, ❞ he breathes, barely louder than the hum of the heat finally kicking on. ❝ you’re . . . ❞
he’s seemingly unable to finish his sentence.
his fingers come to brush the lace edge just at the crux of your right thigh, tentative at first — still reverent, like he’s afraid he might ruin these delicate things just by touching. the satin, when he runs his fingers a little higher, is cool beneath his fingertips, smooth, impossibly soft.
❝ jesus christ, ❞ he mutters to himself.
his thumb now traces the line of lace, slow and deliberate, following the curve of your hip up to your waist. you hear him swallow above you.
❝ do you have any idea what you look like right now? ❞
you want to make a joke, you really do, but eddie looking at you like this, touching you like this, like you’re some precious thing, it takes away your ability to do much more than say his name.
❝ eddie? ❞
❝ i know. ❞ his big hand spreads out on your hip. ❝ i know, baby. ❞
you don’t know when you started shaking, but you realize eddie’s trying to soothe your tremors by scooping an arm beneath you, gathering you up against him as he presses a kiss to your neck. ❝ going too fast? ❞
❝ n-no. i mean, i didn’t think so. maybe . . . you show me something now. i can’t be the only one getting naked here. ❞ you knee him in the ribs as gently as you can.
with a grin, eddie pulls back.
when he does, you can see the very obvious tent in his jeans. just like in the locker room. if you were curious then, you’re very curious now.
eddie's grin widens at your words, his eyes darkening with pure lust as he looks down on you. ❝ oh sweetheart, aren’t you playing with fire now . . . ? ❞ he growls playfully, and leans in to nip at your lower lip.
his hands roam your curves possessively, squeezing and caressing every inch of exposed skin. he can feel the heat radiating off of your body and it makes his cock throb with need. ❝ you wanna see what you do to me, baby? how hard you make me? ❞
with a swift movement, eddie stands up and starts unbuckling his belt. his jeans fall to the floor with a soft sound as he kicks them aside. he's left standing there in his shirt and a pair of black briefs, which are straining against his massive erection.
he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear teasingly. ❝ like what you see so far, princess? nothin’ fancy like yours, but i think this works for me . . . ❞
and it definitely does work for him — the midnight black of those briefs against the pale porcelain of his thighs makes you want to attack him.
instead, you pull him down atop you once more, legs around his waist, one hand in his hair and the other snaking between the two of you to palm him through the thin cotton of his underwear. ❝ eds. you're so hard . . . is that all for me? ❞
your hand cupping his aching cock earns you a deep-seated groan, the worn, flimsy fabric of his boxers doing little to hide how hard he is for you. he grinds against your hand, wanting more. ❝ fuck yes, baby girl . . . all for you. every thick inch of me is yours. ❞
he captures your lips in another searing kiss, tongue diving into your mouth to taste and claim every inch. his hips rock against yours steadily now, the heat of your bodies mingling as you rut together.
❝ you feel that? feel how much I want you? how much i’ve been wanting you? ❞ he pants between kisses. ❝ i'm gonna fuck you so good tonight, sweetheart. gonna take my time and make that little pussy mine. ❞
one large hand slides down to grip your ass possessively while the other reaches up to tug at the hem of your shirt. ❝ got somethin’ pretty on up here, too? i wanna see, wanna suck on your nipples until you're begging for my cock . . . ❞
eddie's words make you shy ; you’ve never heard someone talk that dirty before. a soft pink blush starts at your cheeks and drips all the way down to the top of your chest.
you also realize that, if what eddie says is true, he's lain in this very bed before touching himself to the thought of you. ❝ oh god, ❞ you whisper, leaning up to take the bottom of your shirt in hand and yank it off.
laying it aside, you hear eddie exhale sharply. you’re wearing a matching set, so your bra is a nice soft purple too, with satin cups and lacy trim, another big white bow right in the middle of your chest.
eddie's eyes darken with lust, the sight of you in such a dainty set making his cock throb painfully. he licks his lips hungrily. ❝ fuck, you look so good like this . . . like a goddamn princess, i swear. ❞
he leans down to nuzzle at the swell of your breasts, pressing open mouthed kisses along the tops of them before reaching behind to unclasp your bra. his hair tickles you as the lacy garment falls away and eddie groans at the sight of your bare tits.
❝ so fucking perfect . . . ❞ he murmurs reverently before taking one pert nipple into his mouth. he suckles and laps greedily at it while he rolls the other between his fingers.
his hips continue to grind at your center, both of your underwear now soaked with your arousal and some of eddie’s precum. eddie can feel how wet you are even through the fabric. ❝ you're dripping for me already, aren't you, baby? such a needy little thing . . . ❞
you’re squirming, loving all the attention eddie's giving you, all the sweet things he's saying to you. ❝ eddie . . . ❞ you love saying his name, too, loves the way it feels in your mouth, between your teeth.
once eddie sucks that nipple between his lips, you let out an embarrassing moan, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the hard, lean planes of his back. ❝ eddie, eddie . . . want you. want you so bad! ❞
at your desperate plea, eddie groans around your nipple, the sound juddering against your sensitive flesh. he releases it with a wet pop before kissing his way to your other breast to give it the same treatment.
❝ fuck, i want you too, baby . . . want to bury my cock in your tight little pussy and make you scream my name, ❞ he growls, nibbling playfully at your breast.
he sits up suddenly, drawing your legs wider around him as he reaches down to hook his fingers into the waistband of those soft lavender panties. ❝ as much as i love these, ‘m gonna take ‘em off now . . . wanna see all of you. ❞
slowly, like he’s savoring every inch of you being revealed to him, he pulls those panties painstakingly down your legs before tossing them aside. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you laid out naked beneath him, a feast for his eyes.
you’re embarrassed again, now only because he can see what he’s done to you. your little pussy is a mess, smeared with your own juices.
❝ so fucking gorgeous . . . can't wait to taste every inch of you, ❞ he murmurs, sliding suddenly down between your thighs. ❝ gonna eat this pretty pussy until you're shaking . . . is that okay? ❞
eddie's cheek is pressed to your thigh and your hand is in his hair, petting. more to soothe yourself than him. you nod, less embarrassed now and more nervous. what if eddie doesn't like how you taste? what if he thinks you’re too wet? what if —
eddie’s nuzzling into your thigh, hands sneaking around to cradle your hips. he can feel your nervousness and it makes him want to take extra care of you. ❝ shh, it's okay, baby . . . just relax for me. i’m gonna take such good care of you, i promise. ❞
he places a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before trailing his lips lower. his breath ghosts over your slick folds and you shiver. ❝ you smell so good, sweetheart . . . can't wait any longer to taste you. ❞
eddie leans in and licks a slow stripe up your slit, groaning at the taste of your arousal. ❝ fuuuck, you taste amazing . . . so sweet. fuckin’ delicious. ❞
he seals his mouth over your pussy and starts lapping at you eagerly, tongue delving between your folds to collect every drop of your essence. eddie focuses on teasing around your clit with the tip of his tongue while sucking gently.
you’re really squirming now, breathing heavily, writhing on eddie’s bed and tightening your thighs around his head. ❝ e-eddie . . . oh god. ❞
❝ that's it, baby, ❞ he mumbles against your slick cunt, ❝ just let go . . . wanna make this pretty pussy cum all over my face. ❞
one particularly insistent swipe of his tongue over your clit makes you thrash, but eddie is holding you down by your hips. ❝ unh . . . eddie. fuck, i'm gonna — ❞
your thighs start to tremble around his head and he doubles his efforts, alternating between flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit and sucking at your entrance.
❝ that's it, baby, cum for me. wanna feel this pussy fuckin’ pulse against my mouth. ❞ he’s growling against you, dark gaze trained up on your heaving chest. ❝ gonna lap up every drop of your cum. ❞
eddie suddenly has two of his thick fingers plunging deep into your tight, hot channel. he pumps them in and out steadily, curling them just so.
as close as you are, you can’t hold back.
those fingers, his tongue, his voice . . . fuck, his voice might be your favorite thing about him. and he certainly knows how to use it in the bedroom.
you scream his name one last time, fingers tight in his hair as you give one last violent spasm atop his comforter and then start to flood his mouth.
he moans as you come undone, your pussy clenching around his fingers, release dripping down his chin. he laps eagerly at you, drinking down every drop just like he said he would.
❝ fuck yes, just like that, princess. cum all over my face. ❞ he keeps his tongue and fingers running in tandem to work you through your high until you come down.
then, gently, he eases those fingers out of you before kissing his way up your body.
eddie takes a moment to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. ❝ you did so good, sweetheart. came so hard for me. ❞
your trembling arms embrace him, and you turn your face to meet him for a tender kiss, still breathing hard as eddie holds you close.
but it isn’t long before he’s reaching down, palming at himself through his briefs. ❝ fuck, that made me even harder. i wanna bury my cock in that tight little pussy and fuck you until the only thing you know how to say is my name. ❞
with the way he's started to suck so gently on your tongue, it's a miracle you can even speak when the two of you part again.
❝ y-you said you'll be gentle, yeah? ❞
❝ yes. ❞ he nods, leaning back to take you in, hands worshipping you on their way back down to your hips. ❝ told you, i’ll take care of you. ❞
almost before you know what’s happening, eddie quickly strips out of the remainder of his clothes, revealing his lean, tattooed body and the thick erection jutting from between his thighs.
your heart starts to race and eddie goes for a condom from the bedside table while you try not to think about why he needs those there, what other girls from town he may have been with.
then you reach to still his hand, shaking your head. ❝ no. please? ❞
eddie’s eyes flicker with surprise. ❝ . . . you sure? i mean, i’m clean, to my knowledge. but i have . . . been with some other girls. ❞
you huff, cheeks going red with embarrassment. ❝ i figured as much. i just . . . don't wanna use one, ❞ you finish lamely.
you know it's stupid, know it's risky. but god, if you don't get to feel him sliding bare into you you’re going to lose your mind.
looking as though he knows it’s a bad idea, but wanting to make you happy anyway, eddie sets the unopened condom back on the table and comes to hover over you again. ❝ okay. anything for my princess. ❞
another soft, doting kiss shared between the two of you has you seeing stars.
just before eddie reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your still-slick folds.
his gaze meets yours and you nod and with a subtle push of his hips, the head of eddie munson’s cock pops right into your tight cunt.
❝ fuck . . . i dunno how long i’m gonna last, baby. you feel . . . nngh, god, fuck! you feel so fucking good. ❞ his fingers are bruising on your hips, though you’re sure he doesn’t mean them to be.
you know how he’s feeling, like it’s too much and not enough all at once.
❝ eddie? do i feel . . . do i feel better than those other girls? the — the ones you’ve been with before? ❞ silly, jealousy at this point, when he’s already inside of you. but you can’t help it, can’t help imagining what girls eddie munson has fucked up until now. probably sammy from your fifth period history class. she’s alternative enough. or — god — heather in band who loves to paint her face like those KISS guys. she’s exactly eddie’s type.
elbows now cushioned on either side of your head, eddie pets your hair back from your sweaty forehead. ❝ what are you thinking about? ❞ he questions softly, a smirk on his face like he knows exactly what's going through your head. ❝ there’s no contest — you’re the best fucking thing i’ve ever felt in my life. including the first time i heard metallica. ❞
your eyes go wide. ❝ wow, that's. you mean that? ❞
eddie nods solemnly. ❝ i do. and if you don't believe me, then maybe i should fuck you until you do. ❞
hips inching forward, eddie slips another inch or two more of his aching cock inside of you.
the noise you make is embarrassing, to say the least. it feels way too good to be filled up with him and there are still a few more inches to go.
he grunts, sinking into your tight heat, face buried in the crook of your neck.
❝ you’re so tight, baby. like a vice around my cock. ❞ slowly, he begins to rock his hips, easing more and more of himself inside of you with each thrust. at the same time, his hands roam protectively over your body as he fills you up completely. ❝ i think . . . you were made for me. no one else could ever feel this good. ❞
❝ i honestly . . . i expected it to hurt. fr — from what i've heard from my friends. but. it just feels good, eddie, so good. ❞ you’re surprised, completely blissed out on his cock as he starts to speed up.
eddie chuckles breathlessly against your neck. ❝ i promised i’d be gentle . . . and i always keep my promises. ❞
it doesn’t even hurt when he starts to fuck you harder, slamming deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. his hands slide down to grip your ass, canting your hips up so he can fuck you that much better. ❝ does it still feel good, baby? d’you like feeling my cock stretch this tight little pussy out? ❞
you nod fervently, sure that your fingernails are doing quite a number on eddie's back by now. ❝ you're so big, eds. i feel s — so full . . . ❞
eddie’s movements stutter and he chokes a little. ❝ mm, baby, i’m sorry — i’m so close already. but i want you to cum again first, wanna make you cream on my dick. ❞ in an effort to make that happen, eddie’s calloused fingers drop between your thighs, rubbing at your clit in tight little circles.
and that just makes you go absolutely ballistic, blindsided by your second orgasm of the night as you shake underneath of him, holding him as close as possible.
eddie practically whimpers as your pussy clamps down around him, inner walls fluttering and squeezing at his pistoning cock. and though he must be teetering on the edge as he does so, he thrusts through your orgasm, drawing it out until you’re a shaking, whimpering mess.
❝ god, you’re perfect. so fucking perfect . . . gonna fill this pussy up now, babe . . . mark you as mine. ❞
a few more hard thrusts and eddie buries himself to the hilt inside of you with a guttural moan. his cock pulses as he spills his hot spunk deep into your aching cunt.
you hold him as he cums, breath coming hot and damp against your shoulder, making the prettiest little noises you’ve ever heard a man make.
eddie collapses on top of you, his softening cock still nestled inside your quivering walls.
he nuzzles into your neck with a contented sigh. ❝ feelin’ okay? ❞
when you nod with a giggle, he rolls you onto your sides so he's no longer crushing you under his weight, his arms wrapped protectively around you. he presses a kiss to your shoulder before letting out a satisfied yawn. ❝ i could stay like this forever . . . just you and me. ❞
and wouldn’t that be nice? just you and eddie here in his room, making out and having sex forever.
but, you remember specifically the conversation that was had in the hallway on tuesday. ❝ i don’t think hellfire would take too kindly to that. ❞
❝ i’m gonna make it up to them next friday with an extra long session. but i did have to give a reasonable explanation for why i missed tonight. fair warning. ❞
you tilt your head. ❝ yeah, that you had to take me on a date. ❞
the look on eddie’s face is mischievous, dark eyes glinting. ❝ yeah, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but that’s not a suitable explanation for my boys. ❞
frowning, you mutter, ❝ what exactly did you tell them? ❞
❝ the truth. ❞ he apologizes by way of another wet kiss to your shoulder, mouthing at the skin there.
you groan, hiding your face in eddie’s hair. ❝ that’s embarrassing . . . ❞
❝ hey, more for me than for you. i’m the one who comes off as a pervert. ❞
❝ and i’m the one who forced you to ask me out after you were a pervert, oh my god. ❞
eddie shushes you, a hand at the back of your head, cool rings ghosting back and forth over the nape of your neck. ❝ they won’t ever say anything to anyone. and i promise they don’t think less of you because of that. my boys are . . . they’re cool. ❞
nerves calming, you listen to the chilly breeze blow past outside, rattling the trailer windows and sending a draft across the bed. eddie wrestles with the tangled blankets, pulling them higher around you, although it is starting to heat up a little now that the heat has clicked on.
❝ stay? ❞ he mutters against your shoulder.
you tuck yourself in closer against him, skin to skin like eddie is your own personal space heater. ❝ i wasn’t planning on leaving. ❞
female reader, inclusive language. minors dni. porn with plot.
kinks: dom/sub elements, degradation/humiliation, service kink (if you squint), situationship energy, billy is very selfish and reader loves it, oral sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, mentions of rough sex, lots of teasing, orgasm denial
word count: 4.3k
Billy is fire and chaos and every dumb decision you’ve ever made rolled into one unbelievable package. And you? You’re the idiot who keeps letting him in. You’re the girl that he knows he can call; for whatever it is that he needs.
→ Or: You’re down bad for Billy Hargrove.
You’re halfway through painting your nails when you hear tires screech in your driveway.
There’s only one person in this entire cursed town that drives like that, and that gem of a citizen happens to be your boyfriend, Billy.
You don’t bother checking the window. The music he was blasting shuts off, the Camaro door slams, and you wait about two seconds before the next annoying noise: Billy’s fist banging on your front door.
You sigh. “Every time,” you mutter, blowing on your nails once before abandoning them completely. Your pinky nail on your left hand gets smudged while you’re rushing to close the top on the bottle of nail polish.
The only thing worse than a messed up nail is the sound of Billy banging on your door.
Really. It’s like nails on a chalkboard to you.
When you swing the door open, Billy is standing there: shirtless, sunburnt, and holding, of all things, a broken Walkman in his hand like a wounded pet.
“Hi,” you say casually, because you know exactly what he wants right now. For some reason, Billy thinks that you know how to fix everything. Like, everything. He comes to you with every single problem he has, and most of the time, you are able to save the day.
It was annoying at first, if not the entire reason you got together. You went to school together, for just a year, since Billy was new in town - and he caught your eye from the moment he arrived.
His body, perfect. Muscles, and pretty tanned skin from all the time he spent, spends, at the pool. His face, so handsome, and almost…pretty? Perfectly symmetrical, with pouty lips and pretty blue eyes. He’s got a nice smile too, and that walk of his -
Ugh. You’re down extremely bad for Billy Hargrove.
You’re a pretty girl, and you know that, but Hawkins is full of pretty girls - and Billy, despite his reputation and anger problems, could get any one of them that he wanted. You’re still pretty sure that the only reason he chose to date you is because of your problem solving ability. Or maybe, his own lack of it.
You officially met, because he saw you reading a giant novel when you were suntanning by the pool when he was on duty, and he asked you a dumbass question. You’re still not sure if the question was legit, or just a cheesy pick up line. Regardless - the rest is really history.
But you do still wonder: Is Billy really as…useless as he acts? Or is he just allowed to be, because of you?
Whatever the case, as bad as it sounds for you, to be his problem solving girl - you’re pretty sure you love Billy Hargrove, and he’s so hot, you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to.
Billy smirks. He’s so charming, it hurts. “Evenin’, sweetheart.”
“It’s noon.” You never know if he’s serious or not, when he says shit like that. But sometimes he gets into these moods, where he’s thinking or worried about something else, and he ends up just saying the first thing that’s on his mind. You think that’s probably what he’s doing right now.
“Time’s fake anyway,” he shrugs, pushing past you into your house because he doesn’t believe in personal boundaries or waiting to be invited. He knows you, anyway. Your parents are at work, you’re alone, and you don’t say no to Billy. You just can’t do it. Maybe you’re pathetic, maybe you’re a loser, but when Billy is around and you have his attention - you just don’t care.
You shut the door behind him and try not to ogle his bare chest when he faces you. “What’s with the dramatic entrance?” You know what he wants, but you want him to say it. Billy makes you nervous, it’s a little hard to properly form words.
“My tape player’s busted.” Billy says it like somehow, you have something to do with it. You fight back a grin, that you have all of his attention. You’re really sick, and should probably do some inner work, but you’re just pathetic around Billy. You like it.
“Because you threw it at someone’s head,” you remind him, but you’re not even sure if Billy remembers. He’s constantly getting into little spats with people, usually a daily occurrence, but you told him if he slowed down and behaved you’d give him head every day. If he goes a week without getting into a fight, you told him you’d let him fuck your as -
Billy rolls his eyes. “Details.” He probably doesn’t even know what exact incident broke his tape player. You do, though. Someone bumped into him by accident at the gym the other day.
He’s hopeless.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. At least he finally found the thing. He lost it right after he came home from the gym.
“Why are you here? Really,” you press, but you know it’s because he needs something. You’re just sort of hoping he’ll say just to see you, or something romantic like that. You’ve worked out some theories (fantasies), that Billy asks so much from you because he doesn’t know how else to get your attention. He’s got a weird family - maybe he doesn’t understand how to start a conversation out of nowhere, and maybe he just needs an excuse.
Possible, right? That theory is better than admitting he might just be using you.
Billy looks at you with that infuriatingly pretty, hopeless expression - blue eyes wide, lips pouty, muscles glistening like he stepped out of a body oil commercial. He didn’t even bother to put a shirt on, probably came straight from the pool. You resist the urge to bite your lip, when you think about his muscles, his perfect body, his strength -
Everything he did to you last night. Your pussy has a heartbeat already, but that’s pretty normal for you when Billy is around.
“I need help,” he admits, like he’s annoyed he even has to ask. He holds up the Walkman again. “Need you to help me fix this”
No shit, but the way he’s looking at you makes you think there’s more to his request than that.
“And?”
Billy scratches the back of his neck. “I also, uh, can’t find my wallet? You have any idea where it’s at?” Another woman might kick Billy right out for saying that, but you smile. It’s just Billy, you swear. Another guy being this useless would literally make you sick, but Billy is so hot, and you weren’t doing anything anyway - you have time to help him. His attention feels that good.
You stare at him. You probably look like a lovestruck idiot, because Billy steps forward and laughs a little while he smiles, reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair away from your face. He looks you in the eyes, then trails his gaze down to your lips, lingers on your chest, all the way down your body - and then back up, to where your hands are on your hips.
He’s looking at you like he wants to devour you. You hope he does.
“Cute nails,” he remarks, and then he holds out his tape player. You grab it, hoping your nails are dry at this point.
“So,” you start, trying to come up with the right words since Billy is looking at you like that. “In a single morning, you found your broken Walkman, lost your wallet, and decided to bring all your problems to my doorstep?”
Billy flashes that boyish grin that should be illegal. “Basically.” He knows you don’t mind, knows that no matter what he brings to your door, you’ll clean up his mess for him. It doesn’t matter if it’s chores he needs help with, things he needs to fix, college applications he doesn’t want to prioritize, fight wounds to bandage up, sentence starters when he needs to apologize to his sister - you’re there for him.
There for him whenever he gets horny too. Because, you figure - if he knows to come to you with his problems, he also knows where to come when he has his…needs. And as long as Billy comes to you with those needs, you’ll take whatever problems he dishes out.
It’s pathetic, and a little sad. But you really don’t give a fuck. Not when he makes you feel like this, just from standing close to you in your kitchen. You’re nearly sweating.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been told that,” he says, smug. It’s like he knows this power he has over you, which should be mean, or fucked up - instead, it’s a turn on.
You step closer, jabbing a finger into his bare chest. “You are a disaster, Billy.” Your face is burning, worried you might upset him. Billy is not fun to upset.
“Sexy disaster,” he corrects. He bites his lip, looks so fucking sexy, you take a bold step toward him. Like a magnet.
“Unfortunately.”
He grins wider, until his hands are on your waist. “C’mon. You like it.” He holds you like he owns you, like your presence doesn’t affect him, because he knows the power he has over you. That realization makes you take a deep breath, eyes closed for a second. You swear you hear Billy laugh under his breath.
“I like peace and quiet,” you lie, trying to have an ounce of dignity. But Billy sees right through it. He moves the hand from your hip, smacks your ass with it, and the look on his face when he sees your expression makes you want to get on your knees to beg to suck his dick.
“You like me,” he says, very self assured.
He’s not wrong.
Billy is fire and chaos and every dumb decision you’ve ever made rolled into one unbelievable package. And you? You’re the idiot who keeps letting him in. You’re the girl that he knows he can call, for whatever it is that he needs. He’s your boyfriend, yes, but you wonder if he even cares about that title. Wonder, if a relationship to him is all about getting his needs met.
You should feel pretty bad about even thinking that, but you don’t. You’re almost whining in his arms, until you just set the Walkman on the counter and grip his shoulders.
“I’ll fix it,” you promise, and Bill nods. He knows you will. This is the same routine, over and over again.
You decide to switch it up.
“But you owe me,” you say, but the truth is, he owes you nothing. Maybe you deserve better, or whatever your friends say, but you seriously would not do anything to rock the boat with Billy. You don’t want him to break up with you, dump you, so you’ll bite your tongue no matter what he does.
But Billy can play that game too. He’s just trying to excite you. “Anything,” he says way too quickly, as if he ever returns the favor. To be fair though, in his own way - he does. Fucking you hard, letting you suck on his dick, being on his arm at parties. Getting to be the one who listens to his drunken rants. You love this man, and you love being around him. Being the one person Billy Hargrove cares for (right?) is like a drug.
Your friends don’t get it, when they tell you to dump him. They’ve never experienced a guy like Billy, so rough to the world, but in certain moments - so good. They’ve never experienced coming apart on his cock, either - and for that, well. You hope they never do.
Billy is yours. Problems and all.
You raise an eyebrow, testing the waters. “You can pay me back by doing the dishes?”
“Nope.” No hesitation. Your heart rate picks up, you feel arousal drip in your panties. You know Billy so well, and he never wastes a moment to humble you. Maybe it makes him feel good, reminding himself that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. Whatever the case - you play your part perfectly.
“Cleaning my car,” you murmur, and at this point, Billy’s holding you close to him, one hand gripping your ass, the other holding you tight against him. You feel the bulge in his pants, the warmth from his chest.
It’s actually taking everything in you to not drop to your knees right now.
“Absolutely not.” Billy actually scoffs at that one.
“Okay then,” you try to think of something that’s more about him. “Stop driving like a maniac.”
Billy laughs in your face. The hand that was on your ass is now on the waistband of your shorts, slowly sinking a hand into them, until he’s in your panties. You know he wants to feel if you’re wet. Tease you for it. He knows you too damn well. “Be serious.”
You whine a little. Truly, you do. Billy’s hand just keeps getting lower, until you feel the pads on his fingers touching your slit. “Then what can you do?” You just want him to tell you what to do already. You’re out of your element. Billy is always the one calling the shots. You want it to stay that way.
“I guess,” he says, voice low, in that tone of his that sounds like his words are dripping in honey. This close, Billy smells like cigarettes and sunscreen and cologne - and something that’s just him. You breathe him in and swear you start feeling shaky. You want to moan. “You can suck my dick, if you fix it for me.”
Yeah. You’re going to die. On the kitchen floor, and your parents will find you dead when they come home from work, and the cause of death will be - Billy Hargrove acting like sucking his dick is a privilege. Goddamn. What a beautiful way to die.
You don’t even know what to say. Billy and his casual dominance has turned your brain into pure mush. He always teases you about it - how dumb you get for him, whenever he’s got his cock out, or his shirt off. You recall what he said just last week - “Have to win the other girls over, you know. Take them out, buy them flowers. Woo them. Not you though, huh? Just gotta take my cock out, and you’d do anything for me. Am I right?”
Yeah. He was right. Is right.
“Billy,” you say softly, and he hums, pressing a finger inside of you. Rough, like he always is. You love it. “Maybe I can…blow you first, you know, I can’t really - can’t really think, until I,” you are actually the most pathetic girl in Hawkins. You’re sure of it. Worse than those girls who used to follow Billy around parties, waiting to get his attention, to suck him off.
Wait. Maybe that was you. Your face heats up, and Billy coos at you.
“Blow me first? Greedy, honey, but maybe you’re right. Wouldn’t want you to be all distracted while you’re fixing that up for me,” he points his chin towards the Walkman on the counter. “Think that’s a good idea.”
You nod, wondering if maybe your friends are right. What are you really getting out of this thing with Billy? You don’t really get dates, or flowers, but you do get to call him your boyfriend. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, if you were another girl. Billy would probably treat any woman in his life the same way. He does have a weird family, and he’s a guy with some…issues, and maybe that’s why he treats you the way he does.
Why your utter adoration means so much to him. Yeah, Billy has no actual excuse to be the dick he is, but maybe you work together because you love him anyway. Maybe that’s why he keeps coming to your door. Because you might not be getting anything real from Billy, but just having him is enough. That must feel good for him, you think.
You’re probably the only person in his life who actually likes him for him. Horrible attitude and all.
Billy leads you to the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch. Just a few hours ago, you had tea with your mother on this couch, talked about dorm decorations and the new boutique that opened up in town. Now, you’re tripping over yourself to get on your knees for your boyfriend, who sits like a king, smug, confident. Your mouth waters while you hastily unbutton his pants.
“Eager,” Billy says teasingly, drawing out the eeee sound. It’s kind of humiliating, but you like it.
You’ve had boyfriends in the past, but none of them have ever scratched this itch you have like Billy does - and Billy did it on accident. Like it was fate, or something. You like to be…talked down to sometimes. It’s hard to admit. You’re into being told what to do, and you like the shame that comes with the way your sexuality overpowers you sometimes.
Boyfriends in the past, they roughed you up a little. Held you down, gripped your hair, spanked you a little. But you never liked that.
You like just feeling…owned, maybe. You like that Billy knows how desperate you are for him, that he reminds you of it, that he’s obviously the one that calls the shots in this relationship, but he still stays gentle with you.
Tells you how good you are, in a mocking tone. Reminds you that he could have any girl in Hawkins, but he chooses you because you’re the only one who actually gets wet giving him head, and how pathetic is that?
Billy reminds you of your place, but he’s gentle in his touches, treats your vulnerability like it’s something to be proud of, and you like it very much. Billy would never lay a mean hand on you - he’s fought in your honor (over simple misunderstandings) too many times to count now. You clench at the thought.
You wonder if he views it as a role, or a game like you do. Or if he really is as selfish as he seems. Either way, it’s a win for you.
Billy’s cock is out, and he’s already hard. He’s got a nice dick, pretty like the rest of him, and you lean forward and the kitten lick the tip. Your hands are on your lap, like a good girl, even though Billy never told you to do that. You just want him to notice - you won’t do anything unless he tells you to do it.
“This what you want?” He asks, hand coming down to your head to grip your hair. “Bet you’re happy I came over today. You better,” he groans, the hand in your hair gripping harder because you just sucked him fully into your mouth. “You better fix that thing after I let you do this.”
Fucking swoon. You don’t wait a second before you’re trying to deep throat him, sounds you should be ashamed to be making in your family home coming out while you slobber around his dick.
“Fuck,” Bily curses, and you look up at him. Damn, he’s handsome. Perfect face, and a long expanse of golden chest, so in shape and perfect. You really do feel lucky to be doing this. Billy tastes clean, warm. You swear he sprays cologne on his happy trail, because he smells so good. Sucking him off is addicting.
“Nobody would guess you’d be so good at this. Little miss nerd,” you don’t tell him you were never a nerd, just had good grades, “begging to suck my dick. Who would think the girl that spends weekends at the fuckin’ library would get this hot for me. Your favorite place to be, huh? On your knees in front of me.”
Again, he’s not wrong. Billy has insane dirty talk, partially because he’s so good at getting under people’s skin. Before he throws a fist in a fight, he’s usually talking shit. Saying things a normal person wouldn’t dream of ever saying to another human. He really has no filter, doesn’t give a fuck, which is something he should work on, but during sex, it’s the hottest thing in the whole world.
You suck him off, doing your best work, if you do say so yourself. You make it a show, make it sloppy, because you know Billy likes it like that. He told you, made a big deal of having you spit in your hand once, spit all over his cock, because he’s a hands on teacher, and now there’s not a blowjob you give him that doesn’t end with his thighs wet.
When Billy comes, it’s because he tells you to use your hands, and you cup his balls, suck as hard as you can on his tip, and he spills in your mouth. He moans, loud, curses - and you wish you could do the same. You do moan a little bit, the vibrations from it, you know that Billy can feel.
When he catches his breath, he looks down at you, gives you a soft, spent grin. You’re not sure why he looks exhausted, when your jaw is aching, but that smile just melts you. You did a good job. You’re so aroused that it’s a little uncomfortable, and you rock back on your knees, looking for some friction from your foot, with the way you’re sitting. Billy doesn’t notice.
“Messy,” he says fondly, and your heart is about to burst out of your chest. Billy isn’t happy very often, but he always is after head. You consider it a little service you’re doing, for his family, and the city of Hawkins. Damage control.
You know what’s next, which is why you don’t pull off of his dick. You swallowed, always do, and then Billy guides you by your hair off of his cock. He hisses a breath when his dick hits the cold air, but it twitches when he controls you like a puppet by the hair, to lick off the mess you made on his thighs.
It’s just your own spit, but it’s still a little icky. You like it though, and you make a show of it, tongue out while Billy talks shit about you being such a messy girl. “You’re really into this,” he teases, as if he isn’t, and you shamelessly whine until he tucks his dick back in his pants. You look longingly at his dick when he zips up, and he must see, because he laughs. Grabs your hand, pulls you up to sit next to him on the couch.
“Bet you’re aching,” he says, the dirtiest words coming out in the sweetest tone. He shoves you back, albeit gently, until you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, knees bent and legs spread in front of him.
Billy leans over and knocks your knees farther apart, presses the palm of his hand over your aching core through your shorts. You whine, try to close your knees. Billy actually laughs.
“Really sorry about this, but. I gotta run,” he says, while applying insane pressure to the place you need it the most. “Got a shift, you know. Saving up for college.” If you weren’t so turned on, you’d laugh at that. Billy’s not even sure he wants to go to college, and he doesn’t save a dime of his money. He’s probably going to go home and do fuck all, or go back to the pool because he loves the attention he gets from all the women there.
But all you can focus on is the fact that you serviced him, and now he’s going to leave you high and dry - well, wet, but. That’s not the saying. It’s incredibly selfish, it’s incredibly rude, and it’s incredibly fucking hot.
You nod weakly. “Yeah, Billy. Okay. Will I see you later?” He looks at you from hooded eyes, his lashes are so pretty, intent on making you suffer, you suppose. He smiles, and you trap his hand between your thighs. He actually looks fond right now, and it’s a rarity, but he leans over and kisses you.
You full on moan. No fucking shame. And the way Billy caresses your face with his free hand, ugh. He’s being gentle and sweet. You really don’t want him to go.
“Maybe,” he says, after he pulls away from the kiss. You nod, even when he gets up and goes to the front door. You follow like a lost puppy, and before he opens the door, he turns to face you.
Leans in, pulls you into his arms. For whatever reason, because you’re fucking stupid, probably, Billy makes you dumb, you think he’s going to say he loves you. Or something. You’re dick drunk and you haven’t even been fucked yet. Instead, he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“Should probably wait for me to finish the job,” he doesn’t need to go into detail. You know he means, wait for him before you touch yourself. Billy loves porno magazines, and making you do things no actual gentleman would do. But he thinks it’s weird when women get themselves off.
Or maybe, more likely, he just’s trying to fuck with you. Make sure he’s the only thing on your mind for the rest of the day. It’ll work, and anyway - Billy’s got this thing with making you cum only from his cock. You get a shiver just thinking about it.
“Bye, Billy,” you say, squeezing him tight. And then he leaves, and realistically, you don’t know when he’ll come over again.
But you do know where his wallet is.
You took it, just so he’d have a reason to come over. The broken Walkman today was just a pleasant surprise.
✰ starring: roy mustang x fem!reader
✰ synopsis: after the war against ishval, your trauma catches up to you. the only way to leave it all behind is to bring the central command to its knees.
✰ content: descriptions of war, killing (nondescript), mentioned staging suicide, trauma, slight ptsd, descriptions of arson and setting fire to government property, the amestris government is shit and roy mustang is love
✰ warnings: gunplay, fearplay, temperature play (since roy uses fire<3), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight babytrapping, watersports. i am horny for this man.
✰ word count: 10.5k of unedited, unbetaed horny. i did not plan for it to be this long
✰ a/n: THIS IS SO LATE I'M SO SORRY but this is a part of @cyancherub's back from the dead collab <3 thank you for letting me join sweetheart i'm sorry i'm so late
amestris’ centre city is cold at night.
you think maybe the skyline is pretty enough from up here, the wind whistling and the nearest intelligent life miles away from you. you think maybe the distance can distract you from the pressing weight of your thoughts, the responsibilities you shoulder.
being a state alchemist isn’t easy. you knew this when they approached you, when you took the tests, when you so rigorously trained yourself day and night to become one. but none of that prepared you for this. none of that prepared you for the heavy heart you carry, that sags in your chest and pours out of your sternum. no one could have warned you of the nightmares and the shadows that haunt you.
haven’t you found yourself here before? on this very rooftop, watching the lights flicker. surrounded by the world and yet, so alone in the thick of it. you work, you eat, you sleep. is there more of a life beyond that? should there be?
somewhere in the distance, you hear a bell toll, signaling midnight. it echoes in the distance, soft and dulled once it reaches you, like the gentle lull of a white cap against the shore. you breathe in, the cold night air stinging your nose. you need to go.
“goodbye,” you whisper. to the city, to the government you had sworn yourself to, the people you gave your life to protect. you say goodbye to the life you had lived up to now.
and as you leave, you think of him.
you say your goodbyes to him too.
your first day in central command, donning the blue shoulder mark with gold insignia, you walked alone into the hallways. you were placed under mustang for care, just to be safe, to guide you along the idiosyncrasies of this outrageous position. “what’s your schtick?” he asked you on your first day.
“my schtick?”
“you know. what makes you special? what’s your research on?”
“oh,” you chuckled nervously. “well it’s a little bit of everything.”
he offered you a cup of tea. you refused. “c’mon. don’t be shy. tell me.”
“no i’m— i specialise in imitating people’s power. like, your flame alchemy, or tucker’s chimeras.” you crossed your legs in your chair. “it’s really a little bit of everything.”
“couldn’t find something you liked so you came after all of us, huh?” he laughed, pouring his own cup of tea.
“it’s still very… in the works,” you giggled. “i’m gonna need some help.”
“i got your back,” he promised, soft and gentle. almost genuine.
roy mustang was a charmer. you’d heard of him way before your alchemist exam, along the grapevine twisting through the streets of amestris. manipulative, sure. lazy, of course. you watched him then, kicking his feet up on his oak desk, not even minding the paperwork spread across the surface. “tell me about yourself.”
“i started practising alchemy with my fath—”
“about yourself, not your alchemy.”
you were taken aback for a second, the sour taste of surprise on the tip of your tongue. “not—” you stopped short. when has anyone ever asked you about anything but your alchemy? “i’m from rush valley.”
“really?” he cracked a small grin. “i’ve never been. tell me about it.”
and so you did, telling him about the town’s centre that saw the rise of a lot of shops, unique cuisine. the rocky cliffs that loom over the land, and how you’d lived just a little out of the way, out of the city centre. “and coming to central city, it’s been…”
“weird?” mustang finished for you. “loud? busy?”
“all of those things,” you breathed, but still searching for the right word to grace your tongue. “but also, promising.”
the ishvalan civil war was easy on nobody. king bradley’s order #3066 had state alchemists doled out like weapons on the front line of ishval. you never wanted to; no one did. but it was an ultimatum; work for the fürher and steal millions of innocent lives, or lose your own. (you would have picked the latter. you should have.)
“you can’t say no,” roy told you, hands met in an uneasy camaraderie in front of him, placed squarely on his large oak table. “i’m sorry, major.”
“you call me major like you aren’t in the same rank,” you laughed, trying to ease the tension between the two of you. the knowledge, the impending judgement of the two of you hung like a stench between you, pregnant with silence, thick with nervousness. it clogged up your throat and stings your nose, and you could tell by the waver in roy’s voice that he felt the same.
“you are still my subordinate.” he chuckled, leaning back slightly. you both wondered in what world you’ll ever be able to relax again.
the clock ticked, seconds falling away. you’d been in this room, his office so much that you started to see parts of you in it; an extra cloak you’d left on your last visit, your favourite pen in his mug-turned-pen-holder, little sticky notes you’d left him, asking can i have my pen back? and please give me back my pen. and STOP STEALING MY PENS.
“will you be okay?” he asked, his voice softer now. like he was treading on water, on eggshells to see how you would respond. you look at him, curious black meeting your gaze, and you have to smile. have to brave through your own inhibition. because you rely on each other, you and roy. it was silly, it was naive to think that he thought of you as any more than a pesky colleague, a friend to waste time with. but sitting here, in the thick of your arriving judgement, divine intervention, you couldn’t help but want to lean over. plant a kiss on the bridge of his nose, tell him, i’ll be okay. we’ll be okay.
but you couldn’t. because roy mustang is roy mustang, serial flirt and untouchable. he was regal and elegant and everything anyone could wish to be. but beyond all of that he was your friend—your superior, someone who put his life on the line for you and his friends time and time again. you had a debt to him you could never repay, and admitting your feelings would only worsen the burden of it. so you sat where you were, and watched the crease in his brow deepen. watched him from afar as you always had.
“we’ll be fine, roy.” you assured him.
“we’ll be fine,” he agreed. “but they won’t.”
the morning of the extermination came, and you stood, surrounded by ash and debris and the echoes of screaming children. you could barely recognise the town anymore, bloodshed and tears twisting through the veins of the place. the ground beneath you shakes, and you couldn’t let yourself look at the destruction you were contributing to. the pleas, the looks on their faces before you knocked them to dust.
somewhere behind you, roy was thinking the exact same thing. one meticulated snap after another. a power promised to serve and protect, exploited to kill and conquer.
you ended the war. the state alchemists ended the war. but at what cost?
“the hero of ishval,” roy gnashed his teeth together, the two gilded stars added to his shoulder marks glinting in the reflection of the fluorescent light. “that’s what they’re calling me.”
his skill and notoriety earned him that title. his dedication to his service, his passion to go above and beyond for his state. but you watched him crumble to dust when you returned to amestris. watched him cry. the hero of ishval, reduced to a little boy who just wanted to be told good job.
“i know,” you whispered, soft and delicate against his skin.
“i killed those people,” he continued. “and they’re calling me a hero.”
fucked up, wasn’t it? amestris’ best soldiers, choking back tears as they were awarded for their valiant efforts, for their skill and magnitude. for causing irreparable damage to a town that never meant harm. for killing innocent lives. for being a part of a system that exploited their men and women, using them as weapons when they had promised to protect.
you held roy and he held you. for a few hours you sat like that, a fragile man refusing to cry, and you, trying to hold it up for him to rely on you. but the moment he reached up to you, lips next to your ear, and whispered, “you’re allowed to cry, major.”, you felt the unfamiliar pinprick of tears welling up behind your eyelids, the sting in your nose.
“i didn’t want to do that,” you whimpered. “i didn’t want to—”
“i know, i know,” he hushed you softly, rubbing your back. your mind subconsciously drifted to the locked latch on his office door, for fear anyone would come in and witness a primitive moment between two friends, trauma-ridden and guilt-stricken, holding one another like the world burnt down around them. and perhaps it did. the world you’d once known.
because the ishvalan civil war changed people. the ishvalan civil war changed you.
you tried to leave, tried to resign from service but they didn’t let you.
“you’re too valuable to us as an alchemist, major,” general grand had set his foot down. “unfortunately, we cannot accept your resignation.”
you clenched your fist, your jaw locking. “yes, sir.” you grunted through your teeth, eyeing mustang who, lingering by the doorway, avoided your gaze. it was not said, but you can hear it in grand’s smile.
run away, and we will find you.
and so it was settled; you would kill yourself to run away.
the plan is simple. set it on fire, and die.
of course, you don’t actually die. you leave your badge and uniform and shoulder marks there next to a mutilated, burnt corpse surrounded by raging fire, and you escape. you run from amestris, from the burden of knowing you killed innocent people.
you’d watched mustang’s fire alchemy enough to understand the mechanics of it. you knew that riza’s tattoo held the secrets to her father’s research, and mustang had, at her insistence, scorched sections of it off after he mastered it, but you’d seen enough that you could replicate it with fine little flaws that would go unnoticed to the naked eye.
and so you’ll use that. throwing mustang under the bus wasn’t your intention. you didn’t mean for him to be your scapegoat, but seeing how much time you’ve spent with him, his alchemy is the one you know best. that you could replicate without major implications or fuck ups. and so you will, because you have nothing left to lose.
the alleyway is narrow, dim-lit by the glowing orange fluorescent of the streetlamp that looms over you. little puddles of water ripple along the surface as you splash through them, the sair stuffy and damp. you have to get to the central library; you’d been there many times previously, roaming hallways and narrow aisles, picking up documents for your superiors, doing research for your yearly report. the place, while still well-secured and protected, is still the least patrolled of the central government buildings.
you slip your hood up over your head, pulling your mask up. you give yourself one more chance to back out, to step away and go home. what are you doing? all this, all the trouble you’d been through over the years, all the friends you’d made, the work you put it; are you finally ready to throw it all away?
yes. you are.
you pad softly towards the back of the library, the shrubbery and dark green shadows hide the cans of kerosene that you’d left here in preparation. you pull on your gloves— a makeshift version of mustang’s— and pick up one of the cans. you had no doubts in the nature of your alchemy; you knew you could start a fire. but the precision, the power, the strength to keep it going as long as needed, that was a skill that only mustang had mastered.
it drools from the spout along the little pasture at the back of the building, and you’re careful to follow the plan you’d drawn out in your head, memorising the schedules, the paths of the patrolling officers. stepping cautiously as you come up to one of the half open windows you had left open in a room that went mostly unused, setting the can down before hoisting your legs over the sill, sliding inside.
you reach over, grabbing the can and pulling it up into your embrace. you huff a small breath, slow and hesitant, looking up at the rows and rows of bookshelves that line the walls.
just this room, you think. whatever is in here, people could miss it. hopefully the guards patrolling the library would find the room before the fire spreads too much, and by then, you’d be long gone. the stench of kerosene has stained your hands, but you pay it no mind as you begin to soak the old wooden bookshelves in pale yellow. you should, in theory, have time— the patrolling officer on duty should still be on the other side of the building.
when you’re done, you’re out of breath. the kerosene fumes are getting to you; you need out, and out quickly. you let the can clatter to the floor, testing out your flame alchemy on your right hand. the can hits the floor with a loud thud, and you shrug it off. no one should be near enough to hear, you think. right?
god hates you. god is watching and praying on your downfall, because at that very moment you hear approaching footsteps and you freeze in your tracks. “is there someone in here?” comes a muffled voice through the door, low, commanding, familiar.
the smell of the kerosene has to be obvious, wafting through the bottom of the door. you need to go; now. but the voice comes again, “hello?” and a shiver trickles down your spine.
it’s roy.
what the fuck is he doing here? you know state alchemists are sometimes called in to fill in for patrollers who call in sick or are posted elsewhere, a little placeholder before they find a new regular. but you didn’t know— you thought they only asked majors, nothing above the lowest rank of alchemy. here you are, staging the scene for your fake suicide and here comes your superior, the only man you’ve trusted in your life, ruining months of planning, weeks of preparation.
go away. go away.
“i know there’s someone in here.”
go away. please, go away.
“the fuck— is that…”
the handle of the door jiggles, and you think. stay, explain and risk him selling you out to the central command, and spending the rest of your sorry life in central prison? or leave now, leave the kerosene and the soaked bookshelves to be found and your meticulous planning, obtaining and memorising routines and schedule, all for naught? when would you have another chance like this?
as quiet as you can, you snap your fingers together. just a small flame would do, anything to just get the fire started. but your trembling hands fail you, the leather of the gloves slipping past each other without enough friction for the gases to instantaneously react and pop. the door swings open, and it’s too late to escape.
“major?” roy looks at you, and you force yourself to meet his gaze.
“colonel,” you greet him, your voice threatening to shake. your throat squeezes.
the look in his eyes is devastating. the softness against onyx glass, both confusion and understanding mixing in a melting pot of empathy. “major, what are you doing here?”
you watch him closely. note the holster on his hip, his quivering, hesitant hands. he stands at the doorway, slouched slightly. “i could ask you the same thing,” you whisper.
the smell, the can lying at your feet, the slow, steady drip of excess kerosene. if he pieces it together now, he doesn’t show it. you’re frozen where you stand, your hands behind you shaking too much to attempt to snap, posture poised to escape by foot. “don’t tell me you were about to do what i think you’re about to do, major.” he says so softly, calmly it makes you angry. how dare he patronise you at a time like this. please, just be angry. yell, scream shout. you wish he would give you a reason to fight.
but instead he’s taking his hand off the holster on his hip, holding them up in faux surrender, and steps closer to you.
“roy,” you voice wavers, and you curse it. “leave.”
“i can’t do that,” he whispers back.
you need to distract him. you need to get your fire going, or somehow get him to start it. why won’t your fire work? how could it fail you now, after months of practice? how do you distract him? your eyes dart around the dim-lit room, searching for a way out. an escape. something to throw at him and run.
“major,” he begins. “i know it’s hard. we’re all in the same boat as you.”
“shut up,” you hiss, “you don’t know anything.”
he shrugs, dropping his arms. “you think i don’t know anything? you think i wasn’t there killing those people next to you?”
you bite your tongue. it’s unfair of you to take out this anger on roy. unfair of you to invalidate his own experience when you fought side by side. distract him. distract him.
“don’t do this, major.” he reaches for you, gloved hand outstretched. distract him. “don’t do this. you have so much amazing potential as an alchemist, and you’re sweet and funny and all the other alchemists love you.” roy pauses for a second, weighing the words on his tongue. distract him, distract him and set it ablaze. “...i—”
you don’t let him finish. you take the last step forward, closing the gap between the two of you and pushing your lips onto his, sealing his words in his mouth. he’s taken aback, stumbling slightly with a slight squeak of surprise, before his eyes flutter shut. he relaxes into your unwelcome welcome kiss, and your mind’s reeling a mile a minute. you’d always wondered what roy’s lips felt like, the soft breath against your skin. you never thought he’d feel this soft.
now. now. now. your hands move wildly behind your back, taking this welcome distraction to finally produce your flames but your wrist is met with sudden resistance, a warm grip wrapping around you. “i’m not stupid, major,” roy breathes against your lips. but you’re looking at each other now, eyes glimmering, and he’s the one who presses his lips back to yours, hands wrapped around your wrists, slipping off your gloves. “be a good girl now.”
ruined. ruined. ruined. you push him off of you, glowering at him with a retort on the tip of your tongue, but you watch him light your gloves on fire, evaporating within seconds, dull ash flittering to the ground. “fuck you,” you hiss. “i fucking hate you.”
“you don’t mean that,” he murmurs, eyes shimmering, backing you into the corner. your hip hits the corner of a desk, piles and piles of folders scattered against the surface. you yelp softly, but roy swallows your noises, cupping your cheeks in his big, leather-clad palms and kissing you softly. he's touching you, handling you with such affection, such mirth and adoration in his eyes. you'd never imagine in any lifetime that you'd be right here, inches away from his lips."do you mean that?"
no. no, you don't, and it becomes an ache in your throat; a fire to be sated, to be extinguished with his lips on yours. but you're so angry, so frustrated that all your plans have been for naught, putting a fierceness behind your kisses. it's gnashing teeth and biting lips, ragged breathing. fuck you, you think, curving into the swell of his jaw. fuck you. let me die. but none of it escapes past your lips. not when your pinned dead to his gaze, like a small flame behind the dark of his eyes. kindling, splintering fire.
"that's my girl," roy breathes, a small shudder leaving his lips. the smell of kerosene becomes familiar to you, the burning in your nostrils nothing more than a sting now. "up. get up."
"fuck you," you say again, but comply. there has to be some kind of nicotine, some kind of drug in his spit because you need him to kiss you. some kind of fire in his fingertips, because for a second you'd forgotten the whole reason you were in this room. all you can think about is how much you crave his touch. "fuck you."
he hoists you by your hips, up onto the table, shoving the contents to the floor. your breathing hitches and you pull him in by his collar, mashing your lips together. it's messy, clumsy, graceless, but neither of you care. all you can think about is the way he's gripping the sides of the table, almost shaking with the amount of force he has to reign in. you arch along with one another, lips wet and soft and warm.
"roy," you whisper, intonating like a whine, and you fucking hate yourself for giving in so easy. for listening to the ache in your tummy, the pull of his weight on you. maybe, your mind tries to scramble, the only part still rational. maybe you can still distract him.
you curse the body that has betrayed you, but when his hands come up to your thighs, spreading them with little grace, and he says, "i know darlin'. i know." you can’t seem to find it in you to push him away. can’t find it in you to disobey him.
your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper. his hair is soft, smooth, jet black as you run your fingers through it, tugging at the roots. he lets out a small groan, breathy and airy and you relish in it.
you ruined everything. everything.
it doesn't help for you to repeat these things in your head. it doesn't, because all it does is make you want him more, to kiss him and to conquer his battles. to prove him wrong, to show him what a disservice he did upon himself trying to stop you now. you need to make him want you, need you. you need to string him out, and cut him off.
and so you keep kissing him. kiss him until you're breathless, your voice lost in his throat, his spit dripping down yours. you're pulling him, more and more, over you that you collapse together against the large oak desk. you're spilling out of his hands and he's overflowing yours, the lewd sounds your mouth filling the gaps of air between you. "major," he breathes. "god, how long have you been wanting this?"
years. forever. ever since i met you. "i don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you spit at him, tugging him by the lapels of his jacket, hovering over your quivering body. "shut up and kiss me."
"yeah?" he taunts you. "want me to kiss you here, in the middle of your little arson case? want me to be nice to you when you were about to burn a building down? maybe you are a little stupid," he flicks your head. "you don't get to tell me what to do here, sweetheart."
you almost whine. almost thrash in his arms, almost throw a tantrum when he moves away from you, refusing the chase of your lips. "nuh uh," he continues. "you've been a very, very bad little girl."
the situation is ridiculous. what is his point in doing this, in taking away from you the only thing you've ever been brave enough to see through? he straightens up, gazing down at your figure sprawled against the dark oak table, glistening in the moonlight.
"you're beautiful," he whispers, dragging his fingers over your exposed skin. his touch lingers, raising goosebumps in his wake, and you shudder. ""what are you thinking about?"
the slick in between my legs. your hands on my skin. "how to set this shitty place on fire," you lie, gnashing your teeth together. "how much i want you to get off me."
roy chuckles, running a knuckle between your thighs. "are you sure that's what you're thinking about?" his skin makes contact with your heat through the layers of your uniform, and you keen. "something tells me otherwise."
you try to move, try to reach for his lapels or his coat or anything for some kind of leverage against him, to pull him down. but he stops you, gripping both wrists in one large palm.
"don't even think about it, major." he breathes against the skin of your thigh. "maybe i need to teach you a little lesson, hm?"
how did you even get here? in all the ways you'd imagined that this night would end, you'd never imagined this happening. not pinned under colonel roy mustang, his hands gripping yours above your head, some kind of tension palpable enough that you can hardly wade through it.
"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," he chuckles. "always wondered what you'd look like fuckin' powerless under me. never thought you'd be so fuckin' pretty, yeah?"
how much i've thought about this. your eyes snap up to meet his, a look of confusion crossing your features. "you— what?"
"don't pretend like you don't know, major," his fingers trace the seam of your pants, directly along your cunt. "you know what i'm talking about."
"no, i fuckin' don't," your retort catches you off guard, a small huff of breath exhaled through your lips in the shape of those words. "you—"
"and i know," roy's hands, skilled and gloved, shift to the buckle of your uniform pants. "that you've wanted this too. haven't you?"
you look at him. you don't know what you look like, and frankly you're scared you'd be humiliated if you did. because your eyes, rimmed with desperation, some sort of sick want to be held and told, good job, i'm proud of you, peer up at him innocently.
"answer me."
"yes." it's out of your mouth before you can stop it, but you don't bother hiding it. "yes, yes."
roy mustang undoes the buckle of your pants so swiftly you make it a mental note to ask him why he's so skilled at removing women's buckles, but it's lost to you the moment the stiff, starchy material falls away. the air is cold and his palms are so hot, burning you with every simmering touch he graces your unmarked skin.
it's almost ridiculous, the way he shimmies your pants down your legs. "c'mon, help me out a little here, sweetheart." he grunts, and you help him, lift your hips up just a little to let him in just a little more. it slides off with regrettable ease, and you're left pantsless in a cold room.
so thank god his lips are immediately on yours, because you suck the warmth right out of him that way. you take, take, take, your freezing fingertips to his burning ones and you keep taking until it hurts, until you're dizzy with heat. roy warms you up so nicely, snaking his arms behind your back and pulling you close to him, a tight embrace that you can't even begin to count how much years since you've felt.
"baby," he whispers, and the pet name makes you shiver, your core quivering. "tell me. do you think you've been a good girl these days?"
you look at him, kiss drunk, his lips swollen and red and so kissable. "no," you answer truthfully. "i've been far from it."
he gasps mockingly, kissing your forehead. "maybe you aren't that much of an airhead, baby,"
you flush furiously. on any other day, in any other circumstance you would have retorted, shot back with a comment of your own, but you can't. you don't know why. you're sunk, surrounded by waters, tossing you every which way, shallow enough to keep you alive, but deep enough that you could barely reach out of the water, call for help. you've sunken deep into this headspace, and you do what roy has never seen you do.
you whine. and you beg.
"need to feel you," you whisper. it's ridiculous, the rational part of your brain yells, but you can't seem to reconcile your thoughts to your actions, your words. "roy, roy."
"you think you deserve it?" he tuts, another finger rubbing a circle through the thin fabric of your panties, and you buck into his hands, pushing back for more, more. "i don't think you do. i don't think you deserve anything."
that makes you livid. it makes you flush, your cunt ache. "you're terrible," you spit. "if you won't make me cum, let me do it myself."
"i didn't say i wasn't gonna let you cum," he grins, pearly whites flashing fluorescent at you. "i just said i don't think you deserve me touching you just yet."
he bends down now, nosing against the damp spot on the centre of your panties, trailing soft kisses against the skin of your inner thighs, the junction for your legs meet your body, the sensitive skin between your legs and where you need him most. "what do you think, baby?" he whispers, peering up at you from between your legs. "do you think you deserve this?" he licks a stripe along the wet spot, and you clench, the ghostly feeling of his tongue against you brushing you against the wall of your orgasm.
"roy," is all you can manage.
"i asked you a question, major." he sticks his tongue out, pressing it flat against the crotch of your panties, the warmth and heat of his mouth making you gush even more slick. god, he's such a fucking tease, hands behind his back and refusing to touch you even as you buck your hips forward to meet his mouth. "answer."
"no," you almost sob. "no, i don't deserve it."
he smiles. wolfish, sinister. "that's right." he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. "you don't deserve this. i'm so fuckin' nice to give this to you, right? say yes."
"yes."
"yes, who?"
you look down at him, and he peers back at you, curious, demanding. you rake your hazy mind, trying to think whether he had mentioned something in passing to you, whether you keep the notes he's written for you. but nothing comes to mind. daddy? master? colonel?
what finds fruition on your tongue is, yes, sir.
roy mustang groans. groans, guttural and horrendously sexy, against the clothed dampness of your pussy. "sir, huh?" he teases you. "you like when your superior fucks you?"
another question. another, "yes, sir."
you can see the way it makes him flush, the tips of his ears turning red as he listens to you. "good girl," he grunts, licking another fat stripe up against the seam of your panties. "good fuckin' girl."
the feeling of his tongue on you, couples with the hands that slowly, slowly slither up from your calves to your knees to your thighs, to burn you alive. you can't help but whine, humping back against the ridge of his nose, the feeling of his tongue. "sir, sir," you whine. "wanna— wanna feel you."
you're gonna be the death of me, he thinks, looking up at you with an obsidian gaze. "want to feel me, baby?" he asks, slipping a single finger under the elastic of your panties. "want me to get rid of this stupid piece of cotton?" you nod frantically, your hands clutching the ridges at the head of the desk, vision blurry. "then beg."
when roy makes a command to you, you never hesitate to abide by it. never hesitate to drop what you're doing to join him for a meeting, or come with him for lunch. you hand him your pens when he asks for one. you do what he tells you, like a good subordinate. so now, it's in your very nature to obey him completely. "please, please sir. take off my panties, please."
"more."
"roy, fuck, please. please, pleasepleaseplease."
he looks at you, some kind of sick, twisted pity in his eyes. your voice, hoarse and strained, pitching upwards in a plea, it melts him. he, untouchable, invincible, reared to his knees. roy mustang kisses you once, twice, sweet spit slick on your lips. “good girl,” he whispers, and his fingertips dig underneath the flimsy cotton of your panties.
plain white, stretching over the curve of your hips and ass, a pretty pink little bow in the centre of the elastic. “pretty,” he whispers, almost mesmerising. “pretty little thing.”
he keeps his promises. always does. he tugs, once harsh, one more time gentle, and your hips lift intrinsically, the cotton falling away, down your hips to your thighs, revealing to him your slick pussy, cunt glistening with wet. he chokes back a groan, but his eyes never leave the string of slick that connects your skin to your panties. his eyes grow impossibly darker, gaze flicking up to meet yours.
“you’ve been keeping this pussy away from me, huh?” he taunts, pulling your panties further down so it dangles by your ankles, before slipping them off completely, tucking it into his pocket. “years of fuckin’ teasing me, hiding this princess cunt away from me.”
you mewl. “shut up,” you moan, swivelling your hips to back up closer to him. “you— you never wanted me.”
“lies. fuckin’ lies.” he seethes, hunching over you. “look at you. you think i never wanted you? you’re irresistible, fucking insatiable. kept you around hoping one day you’ll cave.” he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “and i’m fucking glad i waited.”
the words make you shiver. make you arch your back to chase more of him, desperate for some kind, any kind of touch.
“be patient,” he huffs, drawing patterns into the plush flesh of your thighs. “you want this, huh? tell me. tell me you’ve always wanted me.” it’s a command but the way his voice pitches upwards, it finishes like a plea. tell me you want this too, he begs. tell me i wasn’t the only one who wanted this.
“yes,” you answer, breathy. “i want— always wanted this,” his hands, warm, so warm, fit like a glove along the curve of your hips, the divots where your torso melds into your legs. “roy, wanted you.”
he groans. “you’re such a bad girl,” you can hear something moving, clunking like metallic, but you can’t keep your eyes open long enough to see, to understand. “need to teach you a lesson, yeah? say yes.”
“yes,” you gasp. “yes sir.”
“bad fucking slut, begging for her superior to fuck her dumb. aren’t you?” his voice is getting frantic, and you feel him moving against you desperately, his hips pressing to your bare, uncovered cunt. his pants, thick and rough, drag along your clit and you stutter out a whine before you feel it.
the hardening bulge in his pants. the painful, excruciating fruition of his desire, prodding against your pussy. fuck. fuck. you want it, need it, more than anything else you’d ever thought about.
“answer me, slut.”
“yes!” you wail, desperate, clinging on to his jacket. it’s infuriating, humiliating that you’re naked waist down, your suit and jacket haphazard on your torso while he’s still picture perfect, kept and clean other than the desperate tent in his pants.
“close your eyes, major,” he commands you, and you frown, mouth open and poised to question him, but you’re met with a stern tap on your cheek and harsh words. “i said, close your eyes.”
you blink back at him, still defiant.
something in his jaw shifts and you don’t see it happening, but his fingers come up to your collarbones, clad in leather and warm. they wrap around your throat, and he gives you a tight squeeze. you gasp, your throat bobbing under the sternness of his hands. “i’m not going to repeat myself, major.”
you can’t retort, not without your voice cutting out, your dignity wavering, so you let your eyes flutter shut. your hands coming down to grasp at his arm, not quite pulling him off, more a kind of grounding, centering yourself as shapes and colours spin behind your eyelids. your cunt throbs, clenching around nothing as he just squeezes harder, and then suddenly lets go.
you stutter through a cough, a gasp, but force your eyes to remain closed. you don’t dare disobey him now, not as you feel him move against you, warm leather tracing down your thighs and lifting up, up, up to expose your bare pussy to the cold air. “s-sir,” you whimper.
“shhhh,” he hushes you, and from the sound of his voice, the vibrations against your core, you can tell where he is; close to your pussy, right above it maybe. it proves right when you feel his tongue, warm, wet, soft run up along the slit of your pussy. you whine, a full body shudder rippling through you, crawling under your skin. “stay.”
the low timbre of his voice convinces you to listen, and stay. stay as he drags his tongue, tantalising, torturous against your cunt, lapping up any of your gush and slick. you can’t see anything, all your trust embedded in the man in front of you as he holds your thighs open, lips right up against your pussy.
roy pauses for a while, the warmth of his tongue and fingers and draping presence leaving you cold for a second before you hear a bit of shuffling, a bit of rustling, shifting. “be good now,” he murmurs. “okay?”
and that’s when you feel it. cold metal, warming up as he drags it up, down along your slick. your eyes shoot open when it dawns upon you what exactly is pressing into your warm skin, a broken gasp tearing through your throat. his gun, his hands on the handle, nowhere near the trigger, guiding the tip against the slit of your cunt. “r-roy—”
“i said, be good,” he grunts, other hand returning to wrap around your throat. “i said i was gonna teach you a lesson, didn’t i?”
you can’t help but clench, can’t help but let your jaw drop open as the barrel rubs against your clit. “oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter through the constriction of your throat. why aren’t you scared? the feeling of the gun against your pussy does nothing to terrify you, but all to arouse you. it’s insane, the chill of the metal material pressing up against your welcoming slit, your pussy subconsciously gushing as it rubs again, and again, and again against the wet of your cunt and pushes in, your back arching into him as his gun fucks you.
“you like my gun?” his voice is rough, scratching against your ear drums. he lowers himself, his thumb and index finger tightening against the pretty column of your throat. “you do, don’t you? don’t even know if i have my safety on, baby. i’m sure i turned it on, but—” but you cut him off with a mewl, and you can see the quick second of confusion on his face.
“ah,” he says when he gets it, the frown in his forehead smoothing out. “you like the danger. you like that i could just—” he mimics the sound of a trigger and a shot, “— don’t you? tell me you like it.”
the oblong shape of the barrel fucks your walls strangely, warming up quickly bathed in the syrupy slick of your pussy. “i-i like it,” you whisper, barely audible over the schlick, schlick sound that your pussy makes every time he works the barrel into your tight pussy. you’re so debauched you can’t gather enough willpower to buck your hips down to meet the rhythm of his thrusts, just letting him stretch you open with the round tip of the gun. “h-haa,” you whimper, throat squeezing with the force of his hand.
“good. good girl.” he breathes, shoving the gun deeper in. it’s humiliating, the way it hurts, the way that doesn’t even deter you from wanting more. the metal is solid, stiff, unyielding, unlike a normal cock. it doesn’t meld to the shape of your walls, or give way, but insteads stretches you out and open and begging for more. “taking it like such a good girl. learning your lesson, hm?”
“shut up,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your eyes open, but they refuse. so you glare at him through hooded eyes, keeping them in focus, trying so hard to stop them from rolling back into your head.
he tuts. gives you one last shove, the barrel of the gun pressed up against your sweet spot, and you fall apart, legs giving out and eyes rolling back. it’s all too much and yet not enough to cum; but just as you’re about to beg for more, just a little more, he pulls it out of you.
roy relishes in the look you give him, part shock, part disgust, but most of all, annoyance. “roy—” you begin, but you don’t get to finish.
“i was just calling you a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to loom over you. he brings his hand, gun in grip, up to your face, and presses the slick barrel to the seam of your lips, globs of clear and white coating the black polish of the gun. “you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?” he presses harder, and your lips part subconsciously, letting the warm metal slide into your mouth. you groan at the sour, sweet taste of you on your tongue, and drop your jaw to make way for the smooth surface of the gun. “suck. clean it up. lick it till it’s spotless.”
you frown at him, but he responds by shoving it further in, and you gag around the barrel. “i said, suck.”
like a cock, like his cock, you bob your head up and down the shaft of the gun barrel, taking all of it down your throat. you taste yourself, along with the tanginess of warm metal, melting together in your mouth, metallic and sour and disgusting, and yet you can’t seem to disobey. can’t seem to stop, or falter. because to you, right now, disobeying roy is so much more terrifying than the gun in your mouth.
and he’s looking at you, really looking at you, a cross between some kind of admirer and a predator, wanting to consume you whole but savour it, mesmerise the curves of your body as he tears it apart. love as consumption, love as violence.
“wanna fuck you on my cock,” he hisses, pulling the gun out of your mouth. “gonna let me? let me into your little princess cunt?”
your lips part in a soft gasp as he drags the bulge of his pants along your bare clit. “yes,” you answer, eyes fluttering shut. “please?”
roy looms over you, his figure hulking and dark. he tips your chin up with a single finger, his gaze so intensely sharp you feel it penetrating through your lungs, scuttling between your ribs. and then he goes soft, dips his head down to press his lips to yours ever so sweetly, groaning the tangy taste of yourself on your tongue.
“give you what you want,” he grunts as he pulls away, hands unbuckling his belt, shucking it down just enough to free his cock. “gonna give my girl what she wants.”
his girl. if there was still any fight left in you after the last ten minutes it’s completely withered away now, the words burning through your torso and flicking out at the tip of your cunt. “your girl?” you ask, dazedly.
“my girl,” he repeats, pulling out his cock. your breath hitches as he lets it free, springing up thick and fat, a pretty shade of pink. the tip of it is bruisingly red, oozing precum in globs of pearly white, and he steps closer to you, scooping you into his arms. “my best girl.”
a whine climbs through your throat and tears out of your mouth. best girl. you aren’t, could never be, not with the lingering scent of kerosene in the room, almost forgotten in your haze to feel him moving inside of you. you aren’t good, nowhere near the best. but in this dingy, dim-lit room, your panties tucked in his pocket, your superior’s cock bumping clumsily against your slick covered folds, he’s convinced you're the best girl in the world.
“let me in,” he all but begs, pushing closer. your hand slithers down two where you are about to meet, angling his cock for him. his hands are busy, one braced on the table, supporting himself, and the other wrapped around your back, keeping you close. “let me in, okay?”
the tip of his cock is excruciating. it’s fat, mushroom tip bludgeoning into the small slit of your pussy. you both groan, his forehead falling forward to press against yours as you work his tip into your cunt. “roy,” you whine, mewl, claw at his shoulders.
“i know, baby,” he grits his teeth, hand slipping to guide your hips further forward, tipping your back against the table. “open up for me— shit. you’re fucking tight.”
your back against the table, your legs hitched up against the edge, he manages to slip himself further into your tight heat, some kind of eminence in the way you both shudder and moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. “you’re so big,” you manage through muffled whimpers. your hands reach out for him, almost like you’re trying to grab him. “come— c’mere. roy. come—”
and he does, leaning over you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. he chuckles. “just wanted to be near me, is that it princess?”
you whine an affirmative, and he places a wet kiss on your forehead. “are you all the way in?” you ask, eyes barely open enough to glance down to see for yourself.
“no,” the word makes your pussy clench tighter. he’s already nudging against the sweet spot of your gummy walls, already burning at the stretch of his cock in your pussy and he’s not even all the way in? you try valiantly to peer down where you are connected, where your poor, abused pussy is stretched out around the middle of his cock. “a bit more to go, okay?”
you nod, and he pushes, so fucking slow and steady until all of him is inside you, until you can feel him nudging against something deeper, sensitive. it feels like you’re suffocating, like you’re stuffed full of his cock; and you are. you are, stuffed to the brim, bursting at the seams. one move and you’re collapsing, falling apart, legs instinctively knocking together as you cry out.
“stop that,” roy snaps, and you feel a quick sear of heat against your thigh. just a small pinch of flame, enough to bring you back to your senses. “keep them spread. got it?”
“y-yes,” you answer shakily.
“yes who?”
your pussy tightens and he hisses, tapping your cheek with enough force that your neck whips to the side. “yes sir, yes sir,” you babble unconsciously. he flashes you a grin, a cheshire smile that you fell so infatuated with, and now it’s here in front of you, balls deep in your pussy. crazy how life turns out, you barely manage to think before he’s rearing back and slamming into your pussy again.
it’s calculated, the way he’s fucking into you, the tip of his cock ramming into your sweet spot again and again and again. he’s hammering at it, the cruel man, rutting in glee at the way you’re falling apart beneath him. your eyes are rolling back and hardly focused, glazed over with a sheen of ecstasy, and your jaw loose. he’s forcing small blabbers and whines and whimpers out of you with every malicious slam of his hips.
they’re earth-shattering. you’ve been fucked before, had men and women alike vy for your attention, but none have ever come close to the way roy mustang is fucking you right now. he’s so careful, so precise with the way he’s treating you, words soft and mellow, completely contradicting the rough, borderline torturous movement of his hips. “that’s my good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear. “just lying there and taking it, huh?”
you feel something pressed to the side of your head. when your eyes come back into focus you glance to your left; the sheen of the metal gun greets you. the barrel pointed at the side of your head, roy’s fingers dangerously close to the trigger.
“go on,” he murmurs. “keep fucking my cock.”
you don’t dare disobey. his hips still slightly, continuing a shallow thrust every so often. you whine but oblige, backing your hips down to meet his hips. “sir, sir,” you whimper, tears springing into your eyes.
he tuts. “don’t you dare complain,” he hisses, shoving the tip of the gun harder against your temple. “keep fucking my cock or i’ll pull it.”
you know he’s bluffing. the safety’s on, and he would never pull the trigger on a colleague, on a friend. but it freezes in your heart, a small hand wrapped in ice twisting around your ribcage and squeezing. the thought of it terrifies you, but more than that it arouses you. the laying down of your life in his hands, trusting him not to pull it. it excites you, sends a reckoning through your bones. so you do what you’ve always done for roy mustang, and that’s obey.
you’re pathetic, hips dragging uselessly up and down against his cock. he’s nice enough not to sneer at you, pathetic pussy half decent at swallowing his cock, because you’re so goddamn tight, so goddamn beautiful. half of him wants to drop the mean demeanour, just shower you in as much affection as he can. but the other, more rational part of him knows; you need to be taught a lesson.
“that’s it,” he smiles. “my little arsonist finally doing something good for once. think i fucked the lesson into you yet? think you can be a good girl now?” he takes you by surprise and shoves himself inside you down to the hilt, watching the way your tits jiggle under your uniform, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. “or do i have to cum in you, leave a little reminder?”
you shudder at his words, eyes going wide. god, god, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, saying what you’ve always imagined him to say. suddenly, you’re begging again. words muffled, eyes glassy with tears. “cum in me,” you beg. “cum inside, knock me up, please.”
“yeah?” he muses. “need a constant reminder of how to be a good girl? a little life time punishment, give you a little baby? maybe that way you'll have to stay with me,” he’s growing restless too now, thrusts messy. “god, you know i’ll give it to you. c’mon. beg for it.”
you look up at him through the tinted glass of your tears. crystalline pearls running down your face as you beg, “please, plea— holy fuck, yes, right there! roy, roy please knock me up, please cum inside!” you’re not even caring, not even half awake to realise that your own orgasm is creeping up on you. the tightness in your abdomen, the sudden urge to—
“i need—” you gasp when you realise. “i need to go.”
“go?” he slurs, pussydrunk on your sloppy, gooey pussy. “go where, baby?”
“no,” you shake your head vehemently, taking the palm that holds the gun in both of yours, the gun clattering to the table as you guide him to your navel. “i have to go.”
his eyebrows pinch for a second before he realises. “you need to go.” he looks down now, at his hand hovering above your navel, your palms so much smaller in comparison to his. roy looks back up at you, something malicious flickering in his eyes before you feel his hand cover your tummy, and pushing.
the gasp that bubbles past your lips is criminal. the way your body reacts is almost primal, bucking into his arms, back arching. “roy, roy, stop—”
“hold it, okay?” he whispers, pushing a little harder. the pressure is insane, dizzying to you. “don’t you dare piss on me.”
“roy—”
“wrong name, baby.”
“sir,” you almost squeal, the combined force of his heavy thrusts and the pressure on your navel impossible to tolerate. you’re trying to reconcile your senses, trying to hold it as much as you can but it’s no use. “i have to, i have to go.”
“gonna piss on me?” he’s rough now, slamming his hips into you with a lewd slapping sound of his pelvis against your ass. “gonna wet yourself like a little untrained puppy? i thought you were my good fuckin’ girl.”
“it hurts,” you whimper. “can’t hold it, can’t.”
“just a little more,” he coos at you, relishing in the way your face pinches, genuine desperation painting your cheeks. “just hold it a little more, okay? you can do that, can’t you?”
you want to shake your head no. but if there’s anything that you’ve learnt tonight it’s to obey roy mustang. so you do, holding as he continues the torture on your cunt. his hand leaves your navel, coming down instead to toy with your puffy clit, sore and neglected. you bite your lip, muffling the whimpers that threaten to betray you as he rubs a slow, torturous circle against you.
“hold. it.” he says one more time, and you can’t listen, can’t obey. not with his fingers speeding up, rubbing your clit with precise movements. not with his cock buried inside of you, pressing against spots you never even knew anyone could reach, before pulling back and slamming into you at a pace that makes you dizzy. all of it, all of it is so much.
and when you cum, you cum hard.
the pressure on your bladder releases as you cum, your stream gushing out as your cunt tightens around his cock. a loud moan claws through your throat, head tipping back as he fucks you through it, the wetness and sloppiness additional lube to ease the chase of his own high. it’s messy, wet, disgusting; and roy’s looking at you like you hung the moon.
“pissed all over me,” he snarks, and you can only whimper, the aftershocks of your orgasm still catching up to you. your mind’s a haze, clouded over with the wet, warm feeling of liquid pooling under your ass, on his pants, all over the both of you. “couldn’t even listen to simple instruction.”
“i tried,” you beg. “please— i’m sorry.”
sorry. that’s new. that’s something he’d never heard from you. an apology, and a genuine one at that; or as genuine as a post-cumming apology can be, with his fat cock still inside you. it rears something in his head, a flame igniting. “i’m gonna fuck you now,” he whispers. “gonna use you ‘til i cum inside you. wanted me to knock you up, right?” he pants, head dropping to rest against yours. “tell me again. tell me where you want it.”
“inside,” you breathe, your mouth hanging open. he pants into your mouth and you want to swallow him whole. “want your cum i’side.”
“gonna give it to you,” he whimpers. he’s close, so close.
“sir,” you whisper. “roy.”
“yeah?” he strains.
“i—” you begin, but it gets caught in your throat, with a particularly strong thrust into you, pushing past the limits you didn't even know could be reached. your words are swallowed by his kiss, a desperate press of his lips to yours as he reaches, chases, grasps his orgasm. and it’s you, wrapping your legs around him and sighing, that push him over the edge.
it’s blinding, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you as he cums. his cum is warm, thick, and you can feel it filling you up slowly. “oh my god,” you whimper. “yes, yes.”
“take it,” he grunts, shoving himself further into you. “take it, take it.” and don’t waste a drop, he can’t find the tongue to say.
you hold each other as you come down from your high, breathing and panting heavily. your foreheads are pressed against one another, and it’s like now that his balls are emptied in your womb, all sense and sensibility come flooding back. his brain’s finally the one in charge, and yet he doesn’t want to leave.
but despite himself, he has to. for his job, his country. “baby,” he whispers softly, after a few minutes. “what were you doing here?”
you don’t want to answer. you wish, wish to whatever deity is looking down upon you now will show you mercy, swallow you whole into the ground. but nothing changes, and he’s just looking and you and looking at you. you don’t know how to answer.
“were you,” he begins. “going to set it on fire?”
“just this room,” you promise quickly, sitting up to grab at the lapels of his coat. “leave my uniform and shoulder marks, produce a corpse.” he looks at you, pity stirring in his dark eyes. “run away.”
from you.
“i can’t, roy,” you beg him to understand. to acknowledge you beyond pity, but as a person. “i can’t serve as an alchemist anymore. not when i have blood on my hands.”
“you don’t—”
“i do,” you plead. “i took an oath to protect and i ended up killing.”
“for the sake of amestris.”
“for the sake of the führer,” you bludgeon on. “for whatever stupid reason he had to attack that innocent town. they didn’t have to die, roy,” you’re on the verge of tears, and he drops everything to hold you now, scoop you into his big, big arms. “i want— marcoh left, so many others resigned, why can’t i?”
you grieve for a life lived disillusioned, a state that promised you success and made you kill for it. you grieve for a hand that has touched blood, spilled blood. you grieve not only for who you were before this, but who roy was, who the other state alchemists were. you grieve for the people you were forced to eradicate, a city turned to dust in just days. the ishval civil war changed you, changed everyone, and you needed out.
roy holds you as you cry, lets a few of his own tears fall as he listens to you. the wreckedness of your voice, the hoarse throat; roy never believed in higher powers, but he calls on them now to keep you safe, to keep you healthy and strong, and to never let you cry these crystalline tears ever again.
“go,” he whispers. “i’ll handle the rest.”
you still. look up at him. “what?”
“i said, go.” he can’t look you in the eye, focusing instead on his gloved hand, and what he was about to do. “promise me you’ll be safe.”
divine intervention. a way out. an escape. “you…”
“major,” he begins. “it was a pleasure serving with you.”
roy turns to look at you one last time, onyx eyes soft and mellow, brimming with glassy tears. you can see the way his lip trembles, aches to feel yours one last time. “likewise,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “it was a pleasure, colonel.”
he watches in silence as you hop off the table, leaving your uniform and your marks on the ground, amidst the puddle of kerosene on the other side of the room. watches as you soak them up, and look at him. “you don’t have to,” you start, your voice wavering.
“it’ll happen anyway,” he laughs, but there’s a hesitance, a reluctance behind it. “i said it once, i’ll say it again. i got your back.”
you give him a watery smile. “thank you, roy.” there’s a moment of silence, a beat passing between the two of you. you know time is not, has never been, on your side, and it doesn’t let up, not even in this moment. your goodbyes have to be quick.
so you take a small step forward towards his unmoving figure, and reach up on your tiptoes. he doesnt move, just holds his breath, and you kiss him. sweet, genuine, melting. your lips are soft, bruised a little from your previous interaction, but he savours it all anyway. the way you gasp when he kisses you back, planting his hands against the small of your back to bring you closer. the sway of your body in his arms. the way you hands slip into the divots of his coat, clutching it like a lifeline. he drinks it all in, and knows this is the last time he will see you, kiss you, touch you.
i love you, he wants to whisper, desperately, clinging onto you. i love you, i love you, i love you.
but he doesn’t. he lets his lips and his hands speak those words, flood out of his fingertips like waves crashing upon a shore. don’t leave me, please.
but you do. you have to. your mind’s made up, and when you part, he can see the hesitance on your face fade. “i'm sorry,” you whisper. "goodbye."
and before he can whisper goodbye back, before he can convince you to stay one more moment, you twist out of his grip and climb out the way you came from. you don’t stop to look back. you don’t stop, and before long, you’re a shadow in a sea of static, blending in with the night.
behind you, central library roars to life. more than just the room you’d doused in kerosene, you’re sure. the size of the fire is terrifying to witness, plumes of smoke rising to the sky. you can hear the shouts of agony, of worry, the sound of the city waking up to its newest accident. but you’re long gone.
amestris has crumbled before you. life long dreams shattered, the pursuit of happiness ending in the path to disillusion.
there’s a piece of paper in his coat pocket. roy pulls it out, words illuminated by the bright flames.
t a g s : college setting(not mentioned), slight breast play, blowjobs, cum eating, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, mentions of squirting, fingering, starts soft and lazy and ends with jimin fucking your brains out lol, socks stay on, porn with no plot at all, degradation, praising, will be continued in a series, listen to the song-
s u m m a r y : it’s a lazy afternoon and you’re watching the sun set with your boyfriend who’s between your legs..
w o r d c o u n t : 1.7 k
You watch the sun set through the large glass window with hooded eyes, one hand is gripping the pillow your head lies on and the other buried in Jimin's soft hair. He's got his sinful tongue spelling out his name in hangul on your sensitive clit. Every so often your thighs tremble and your hips jump from how intense the feeling is. Jimin only presses his tongue harder and flicks it back and forth in quick motions.
Your back arches when he hits a spot inside of you with his fingers, you curl up a little and a tiny whimper escapes your lips. Jimin grins against your cunt, brushing his fingers over that spot again to watch you squirm. "Jimin-" Your moan is choked up and your head slowly rolls back as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Jimin hums and wraps his lips around your clit, giving the bud slow yet hard sucks. He moved his fingers a bit faster as your pussy emitted soft squelching noises from how wet you were getting. Your moans rose in volume filling the once quiet room with needy gasps and cries. Jimin keeps his eyes locked on you as his hips subtly grind against the comforter.
"Right there," you curl your toes and grind into his mouth and fingers, "fuck.." You shakily breathe out and close your eyes.
Jimin pulls back as he jabs his finger into your tender pussy, hitting your g-spot with every hit as he licks his glossy lips wet with your slick. "Yeah baby?" He smirks as he curls his fingers, "Want more? Want me to stuff your pussy full of my fingers cause two isn't enough for a greedy little thing like you."
"Fuck Jimin, c'mere," you pant breathlessly as you make grabby hands, "fuck me, want your cock to fill me up." You mumble.
Jimin licks his lips as he crawls up the bed and hovered over you, "Spread 'em." He mumbled and tugged at the loose sweater you wore, briefly recognizing it to be his.
He left you nude save for just your socks, he pressed his hips flat against yours grinding his bulge against you. You softly moan, feeling the material of his sweats rub over your clit and you chase his hips for the feeling. Your hands slip under his loose shirt and grasp his back pulling him down into you. Jimin's practically smothering you in kisses as he pushes down on your body with his own.
Jimin leans down to wrap his lips around your perky nipple and gives it a little suck. He feels it pebble up in his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the tip. He sees your other nipple harden and reaches for it giving it a pinch as he switches moments later. You moan softly and feel the heat go straight down between your legs and to your clit. You hold his head against your chest pushing your hips up and grinding against him. Jimin softly sighs as he teases the sensitive bud with his teeth.
He gently slaps your tit and pulls away with a lick of his lips, "So fucking wet," he muses softly and works his sweats down and you're happy to find that he went commando underneath.
His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip weeping as a bead of precum runs down. He only pushes his sweats off and keeps the shirt on as he gently spreads your legs. He pushes the back of your knees up and grabs ahold of his cock. "Ready baby..?" He mumbled softly, slapping the tip down on your pussy and spreading the wetness around.
You nod and reach down to grab ahold of your own legs watching as he teases your clit for a little before pushing in slowly. A quiet moan leaves you and your eyes are stuck on where you two are connected. Jimin sighs happily and straightens his back as he stares down at you with pure lust in his hooded eyes. He rests his hand down on your mound, thumb idly rubbing your sensitive clit as his hips slowly rock into yours.
"Jimin," you softly breathe out as you focus on the wonderful feeling his cock rubbing against your walls giving you delicious friction that makes your mouth water.
"Hm.." He lazily rolls his hips, not really setting a rhythm just yet. Jimin's enjoying the feeling of your soppy pussy wrapped around his cock, squeezing him just right and coating his shaft with your slickness. "You like that baby? Love being filled with my cock?" He says and moves his hands to settle on the curves of your waist.
Your body lightly bounces in place from his thrusts that are picking up the pace. Your moans are punched out of you, not too loud but enough for Jimin to hear and know he's making you feel good. "Yes," you breathe out, mouth falling open as you arch your back at a particular thrust, "there-mmm fuck-there, there..!" You whine.
Jimin pants softly and moves you to his liking as he hikes your legs in the air and spreads you wide, "Right there..?" He moans out, his lips parting as he works his hips a bit faster creating these soft clapping noises.
He loses his patience and starts fucking into you harder and faster. It jostles you and your body moves along the sheets with his thrusts. You let out a drawn out cry, hips rolling upwards in a effort to get more pleasure. Jimin smirks down at you and lets your legs go, he hastily throws off his shirt and leans down to kiss you stupid. He brings a hand up to grip your chin and hold you in place as he slams his hips into your in a unforgiving manner.
You whimper loudly and grab at his wrist trying to push him away because the pleasure spikes up drastically. He doesn't let up and fucks you hard on the bed. Things take a turn and everything feels hot and you can't breathe. You feel so good, like you died and went to heaven from how Jimin never misses on your g-spot.
He pulls back a little, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. "Gonna cum?" He asks in a breathy tone, "Can feel you getting tighter and tighter baby." he mumbles, "Fucking love your pussy." He chuckles as he presses his forehead to yours and fucks shallowly into you.
Your mouth falls open as he knocks the air out of you. It feels so good and it makes your legs quiver and pussy flutter from his harsh treatment. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you, "Fuck me." you stutter out as his hips buck into yours, "Harder.. harder please." You moan out as your lips meet his.
Jimin grunts softly against you and pistons into you harder with one goal in mind: to make you cum. His hips work into yours harder and harder, balls slapping hard against your ass and pussy gushing around him. The squelching noises are loud and the bed is subtly hitting the wall. You feel your pussy squirt and throb from the pleasure being slammed into you. You're sure he's going to leave you aching for days.
The orgasm that builds is making you squirm relentlessly, scared but excited to feel it. "Jimin..!" You cry out, "I'm gonna cum, don't stop please!" You sob softly as your shaky thighs close in and press against his sides.
"Yeah?" He grins and brings his thumb down to rub your clit side to side quickly to match the pace he's going at.
You cry out weakly, apparently that was enough to do it for you as your orgasm knocks the breath out of you. Your thighs shake from the force as you squirt around him, weak whimpers and groans escaping your lips. Jimin swiftly pulls out to watch your puffy little pussy weakly squirt on to the sheets with some landing on his heated skin.
"Fuckin' shit baby," he chuckles breathlessly as he holds the base of his throbbing cock, "did so good for me, squirting on my cock like a good girl." Jimin shuffles forward to straddle you, cock smearing your slick over your lips as he taps his cock repeatedly. "Suck me baby, don't be a selfish slut."
Your mouth falls open and his cock is shoved in, you can taste yourself and bits of precum oozing from the head. You suck on him, tongue swirling around as sloppy noises come from your mouth. Your eyes meet his, red from the crying you had done prior to him making you cum. Jimin quietly curses as he bucks his hips into your mouth, his head rolls back as he stares up at the ceiling in pleasure.
"Oh fuckk." He whispers, listening to the obscene sucking noises you make. "Keep going baby, gonna cum down your little throat." He moans out.
He's not far from his orgasm since he had been really close before pulling out. Jimin holds your head close as he rocks into your mouth, feeling your throat tighten up as you gag. It's his favorite thing ever to see: you struggling to take him in as your eyes water and drool runs down your chin. It hurdles him towards his orgasm and a long moan leaves his lips and his cock throbs in your mouth.
"Shit, shit," he sighs as he pulls out slowly, globs of his cum fill your mouth and some trickles out. He moans softly, holding the base of his cock as he smears his cum over your glossy lips. "That's it baby, be a good girl and swallow." He grunts.
Obediently you do as your told and then show him you didn't leave a drop anywhere. Jimin chuckles softly and gives you a good ole chin pat of appreciation, "Let's shower and get something to eat I'm starving." He sighs as he lazily rolls off of you and makes his way to the bathroom uncaring that he's nude and your apartment windows are uncovered.
You hum to yourself, turning to look out the window once more only to see the night sky instead of the sunset that had previously been there. Did you really just spend all evening fucking around with Jimin..? Yes you did. It was the best too.
i missed the other two tags pls im so sorry i realized until the end when i finished writing ! ;-; will write some more including the other tags later on :)
2.2k words. straight fluff and nothing else. they’re literally so whipped and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since they 🤭🤭 for the first time. idk I wanted to do a drabble bc i felt like they needed a whole part of their first date since it became official that y/n liked him too
READ THE ONESHOT HERE
There was something about waking up after a good night’s sleep that drove you absolutely insane. The need to just stay in bed and try to fall back asleep was strong and as your eyes fluttered open to the bright sun beaming down on your face, all you wanted to do was hide under the navy blue comforter. You turned on your side, tempted to do just that and fall back asleep but a small scream left your lips.
“Morning,” Jungkook was laying on his side, eyes wide open with that little sparkle in the iris as he watched your attempt to wake up with a smile on his face like he didn’t just scare you half to death. You released a small groan pulling the comforter up to your chin, “Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yes, did you know you snore?” Jungkook asked and before you knew it he was mimicking what you could only assume was you snoring. You shot a hand up to cover his mouth and he just laughed, “Are you hungry?”
“No,” you mumbled as you turned on your back, “I’m tired, what time did we go to sleep last night?”
“I don’t know, 3am?” Jungkook said he moved to sit up, “But I’m not letting you sleep our whole day away.”
You released a groan, “Jungkook, I’m tir—hey!”
You don’t know how he did it but he managed to pick you up with ease, comforter and all, carrying you out of the room, “Put me down, we have all day.”
“It’s already ten,” Jungkook said, “Don’t you want to get ready?”
“For?”
Jungkook gasped loudly, “Our date? I’ve got the whole day figured out, I was just waiting for you to wake up.”
You released a sleepy yawn, rubbing your eyes as he sat you down on his couch and you wrapped yourself in the comforter like it was a cocoon of warmth. Jungkook looked at you with hearts in his eyes as he combed his hair out of his face, “We’ll go get brunch and that’ll wake you up.”
Jungkook didn’t plan on wasting any more time away from you than needed so when he dropped you off at your place, he hurried back home to shower and get dressed before running a couple red lights to go to you again. By the time he got to your place you were just getting out of the shower so like the ever so patient guy he is, he sat on your couch and waited anxiously.
“Ready?” You asked about coming out in a pretty black dress that showed off the majority of your tattoos and on Jungkook’s way to stand up, his knee hit your coffee table and knocked over an unlit Lana Del Rey candle with her face as Jesus, “My candle!”
Jungkook fixed her back in place and with a cheeky grin he walked over to you at the door, “My mistake, I need to show her more respect.”
“Obviously.”
The first start on this ‘seven course date’ was at a sma brunch cafe. You stared at everything on the menu with a small pout trying to see what you might like. Jungkook looked at you with a smile, “Are you ready to order?”
“No,” you said even as the waitress stood there waiting, with a sigh you looked back at him, “Order something for me.”
You listened in on the way he ordered everything and you were surprised that he ordered something you might like. The waitress looked at him with a slight blush in her cheeks whenever he looked back at her and you just watched her bite her lip and soften her voice to sound a bit more feminine.
Jungkook even made sure to ask for a specific ingredient in your order to not be put in, proudly explaining that you don’t like it so hold off on it and yet she just looked at him adoringly. You could tell right away that she found him attractive and though part of you expected that — because just look at him — you felt a little bothered considering you were sitting right there. You shifted your gaze down to the menu and just as you were beginning to tune them out, you felt the tip of his black combat boot against your foot. You played back, your foot bumping into his and you could see the way his smile widened when you both thanked the server as she left with your orders.
“How’d you know what I don’t like?” You asked in regards to the way he asked for certain things off your plate. Jungkook shrugged, “I’ve snooped through your lunches at work before.”
You scoffed with a roll of your eyes even if you smiled, your feet never stopping their game of footsies, “Wow, you really are obsessed with me.”
Jungkook just nodded proudly with a smile, “Obviously, not like I kept it a secret.”
The second course of your date was a simple walk in the park to walk off the abundance of food the two of you ate. He made you hold hands the entire way down the Han River, swinging them back and forth to the point where yours had grown clammy and you were whining, “Yah, my hand is sweating.”
“Yum,” Jungkook kissed your knuckle, never letting go and once again you rolled your eyes making him smile, “You know, every time you roll those pretty eyes at me, I just want to kiss you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as the two of you stopped, “You’re so weird, you know that? Cringey.”
Jungkook pulled you into him by the same hand until your front was pressed against his and you took the lead, leaning on your tip toes and kissed him. He let go of your hand to wrap his arms around you as you mumbled through kisses, “It’s cute.”
He pulled away, hand to his chest as he faced the River like he was the male lead in some kdrama, “My heart. I’m not used to you or anyone for that matter calling me cute, keep it coming.”
“Well, you only get one compliment per hour,” you joked as you began walking away again, “You get weird when I give you too many.”
“You owe me at least seven of them,” Jungkook said following after you, nearly tripping over his own feet, “For being hot and cold with me all last week.”
The third part of your date was simple, Jungkook wanted to take those corny couple photo shoots at this small studio nearby. He made you wear bear ears and you put a bunny ear headband on him as you squeezed into a photobooth.
In the first picture it was just you two smiling.
In the second, Jungkook was pulling the ears down toward his eyes while you kiss his cheek.
In the third the two of you missed the timer cause he was having a staring contest with you and you refused to back down.
In the fourth, he was kissing you with his eyes closed holding your face in his hands.
The fourth part of your date was an extremely late lunch. This time you ordered food and he excitedly gobbled it all down dramatically saying, “You’ve never bought me food before, I think I’m gonna cry.”
To which you said, “Why are you so dramatic?”
In truth by the time Jungkook had taken you to your fifth destination, you were beyond exhausted. It wasn’t hard or anything, just a short trip to an illusion museum but the amount of times Jungkook stopped, made you pose, and took a dozen pictures of you was tiring.
“How many more?” You asked as he made you pose with your hands under your chin like you were a blooming flower while he snapped away.
“One more, I swear, now say ‘Jungkook is my favorite person in the whole world’.”
With a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face, you said, “Jungkook is my favorite person in the whole world.”
You finally unposed as he looked down at his phone and about two seconds later you could hear your voice speaking back to you in a video and you gasped, “You said it was a picture!”
“I lied,” Jungkook held his phone away from you, “Next time you’re mean or try to ignore me, I’m gonna play this video for you.”
“Shut up, you like when I’m mean to you.”
“Yeah it turns me on, lowkey.”
The sixth part of the date was short, you went to a small restaurant for hot pot and Soju and he insisted on feeding you every now and then even if you absolutely hated it. He was king of PDA and you were queen of ‘please not in public’.
The seventh and final part was a trip to a stationary store. Jungkook could tell you were tired and probably tired of him already but he just couldn’t contain himself. It’s no secret you were the black cat to his golden retriever energy and he didn’t want the night to end. He loved annoying you because deep down he knew you liked it and he was intent on making you think about him just as much as he thinks about you.
You surprised him in the store when you said, “Let’s pick something out for each other, a secret surprise.”
He spent about thirty minutes debating between two things. One, a sketchbook with a pretty floral cover and two, a candle with a scent that reminded him of himself that he just had to get you with the excuse that maybe it would make you think about him every time you lit it. In the end he ended up buying both — and a matching gel ink pen set that he had seen you eye when you first got here. When he was done he went in search for you and found you at the register getting whatever you got him wrapped up and put in a gift bag.
“Hey!” You squealed as you felt him looming over your shoulder, “Stop peaking, you cheater.”
“I wasn’t!” Jungkook said, backing away, “I was just you know… trying to get a look?”
“Yeah, and that’s peaking, you himbo,” you said, thanking the clerk and heading toward the door, “Now we’re not opening it till we get to my place.”
“Wait, you want me to come over?” Jungkook asked walking you to his car, “Yay.”
…
“Okay, okay let’s open them already!” Jungkook groaned as the two of you sat on the floor in your living room with some rom com playing in the background. You got your gift bag handing it to him and the guy tore into it like it was Christmas morning.
“Alright well I guess we can’t reuse the gif—“
“Oh my god,” Jungkook gasped loudly, “Oh my god!”
You felt your cheeks redden as you looked at all the things he got you, suddenly feeling bad that you only got him one thing. You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Sorry, I should’ve gotten you something better. We can go back an—what are you doing?”
Jungkook was snapping pictures of what you had gotten him. It wasn’t anything crazy, it was a pretty picture frame with a picture printed from earlier today. You put one of the pictures from the photo studio inside, it was one where you were looking at Jungkook while he tried to fix his hair, not even noticing that you had that look in your eyes that he always had when he looked at you.
Jungkook turned it over and on the back the words, ‘Seven first dates in a day’ and the date written in your handwriting.
“Give me a second, I think I’m gonna cry,” Jungkook said and you made a pout. This big, buff, dressed all in black, guy looked damn near close to tears.
“Why?” You asked scooting closer to him, “I promise I’ll get you something else, I thought we were only doing one thing. I know it’s kinda stupid but I figured it was a nice memory after everythin—“
“Shut up,” Jungkook said as he looked away from you, “You’re gonna make me cry.”
You laughed nervously, “Jungkook, I—“
“I’m just not used to you being so sweet,” he cleared his throat, running his thumb over the glass of the frame over you, “I don’t know, I guess I thought that I was still being a pain in the ass and—wait, Y/n, why are you crying? Did I make you cry?”
You hid your face in your hands, full on sobbing, “I was so mean to you a—and you were always so nice but I just wouldn’t let myself believe that you liked me and—why are you crying?”
“Because you’re crying!” Jungkook cried. You couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay let’s stop crying, it’s kinda dramatic.”
“Okay,” he sniffles, “But I was never mad at you for it. I think you blowing me off so much is what made me like you more, you made me want to prove to you that I really wanted to be with you.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Okay, no need to get emotional, sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I liked you too.”
“I know,” Jungkook moved your hair out of your face, “That’s why I didn’t give up. I knew you wrote scared to like me but I get it, I am really hot and it’s intimidating.”
You rolled your eyes laughing a bit, clearly knowing he was trying to make you feel better and it was working.
::.
okay we have sweet, clumsy himbo jk but imagine when he gets jealous for the first time? 🤭
You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.
☆ pairing: best friend!seokjin x fem!reader x best friend!jimin
☆ genre: roommates au, best friends with benefits, smut
☆ word count: 7.3k
☆ warnings: evil jin & jimin cus i can't write them if they aren't meanies (they're still cuties 💘), reader's kinda a bimbo and a crybaby oops, roommates jinmin, a bit of possessiveness 🤫, pussy drunk jimin <3 (he could drown himself in it istg), dicks analysis 🤓 (i love doing that, sorry not sorry), threesome, unprotected sex, degradation, edging, oral (f & m), fingering, lil bit of anal play 🙊, cum eating, and btw kissing is overrated.
a.n.: fucking finally ‼️ this is me signing up for hell. jinmin turned me into a helpless romantic whore.
... idk how my characters are supposed to interact outside of sex ☠️ sorry
"Hi."
Seokjin greets you as a huge grin forms on his face. He leans on the door he just opened, eyeing you up and down before hiding his other hand in the pocket of his shorts. You recognize them to be his basketball ones, his favourite and lucky pair of shorts.
"Hello," you say in return, passing by him to enter his dorm room he shares with Jimin.
His eyes follow you, lingering on your body shamelessly. You're already dressed for the sleepover, having chosen to wear your Snoopy themed night shorts with a random t-shirt you own since high school.
You turn around, catching Seokjin staring at you at the same time. Fortunately, you're not that bright so you don't question him. You probably didn't even notice his eyes were on you anyway.
"Where's Jiminie?" You ask him, voice pouty and disappointed to not see your other best friend in the room with you.
After he closes the door behind him, he walks up to you. He almost wants to laugh at the height difference you share. He can see the top of your head, well, he would if you hadn't your head tilted upward to look at him.
He's much taller and larger than you. It does something to him. Is he old fashioned for preferring his women shorter than him? Maybe, but screw it. It attracts him, he can't deny it, especially when the woman in question is you.
"He'll be back soon," he answers, watching how your hold on the strap of your backpack twitches when he steps closer to you. "He went to take a quick shower. Didn't want to stink after his practice," Seokjin explains and you nod, quickly backing away and throwing your bag on Jimin's bed.
He doesn't mean to make you anxious. It's not his fault if his proximity cuts your breath short, but he finds it cute. Really fucking cute.
Jimin's bed is placed on the left side of the room while Seokjin's bed is on the right. Their dorm is minimalist in terms of decoration because in terms of mess... it's the opposite. Typical of a young man's room — of a two young men's room.
It's not super messy where you can't even see the floor beneath your feet, but a box of empty beer bottles is chilling beside their mini-fridge and dirty clothes are scattered everywhere as well as school furniture.
As unpleasant as it seems, you feel good in their room.
And anyway, they know how to clean, they just don't really do it. What's new?
"Sorry for the wait!" Jimin exclaims as he enters the dorm, coming in with his used towel around his shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to get his wet brown hair away from his face. "The shower I normally use was broken, so I had to use another one and the stupid curtain was sticking to my ass," he loudly complains and removes his sandals by throwing them in a corner by the entry, walking up to you.
"That's why I don't pull the curtain," Seokjin says, always having the best but also weirdest advice. "Doesn't bother me anymore."
Jimin winces, giving him a dirty look. "You're fucked up for that," he accuses Seokjin, laying his towel on the back of his chair so it can dry properly. "There's water everywhere if you don't pull it."
"And you make weird eye contact with people," you add on, Jimin agreeing with you with a 'yeah' and a nod of his head.
Seokjin rolls his eyes as if you and Jimin are the weird ones when everybody knows damn well it's fucked up to not pull the shower curtain.
"Nah, just close your eyes," he persists, believing he's in the right and you both are in the wrong. "And anyway, it's better than having the curtain sticking to your butt every time someone enters the shower room. Plus, there's a drain for the water, so fuck you."
You gasp offendedly when he insults you, giving him a tap on the chest to scold him for his bad words. He only smirks at the hit, wanting to tell you it tickles as a way to tease you, but he knows you hate it when he laughs at your lack of strength.
"Don't say that!" You reprimand, staring at him severely and he thinks you just look so cute. It's unfortunate how he'll never take your anger seriously.
He grabs your wrist, stopping from giving him another hit as he can't help but laugh at your facial expression. "I wasn't saying it to you, babe," he rectifies, pulling you closer to him by the hold he has on your arm. Your face is then a couple inches away from his, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as always. "Just to him 'cause he deserves it, but not you."
You look at him in the eyes, breath quickening as his plump lips seem way too close to yours. You notice his gaze shifting between your lips and eyes, understanding the idea he has in mind. You don't let him think about it too much.
"You're stupid," you mumble as you detach yourself from him, putting a safe distance between you two.
You glimpse in Jimin's way, hoping he didn't see how Seokjin was literally asking for a kiss, but he's busy tidying up his hygiene products he brought to his shower.
Seokjin's eyes haven't left you, still looking at you with a smug smile on his face, but he stops when his friend turns around.
"Ok, so... what movie do we watch?"
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡
"There's no more soda," Seokjin announces, looking inside their almost empty mini-fridge. It would be time to go to the grocery store.
"But I need one!" You whine from where you are laid down on Seokjin's bed, previously sandwiched between the two men with Jimin's laptop on your lap to watch a movie. "I'm thirsty and water won't hit the same..."
Seokjin sighs, knowing he'll give in to your whims. How can he resist your adorable face and your pouty voice? You're their spoiled best friend, after all.
"I have to go to the convenience store..." He explains, hoping it'll make you change your mind and go with water instead of a soda.
You keep the same expression, big rounded eyes and corners of your lips tug downward. "Yeah?" You say back, not bothered to make him walk miles just for a little can of soft drink. "Please, you'd be a sweetheart, Jinnie," you flatter him, using compliments to make him give in and it works, as always.
"Okay..." He sighs again, upset for being so weak with you. You deserve it, but he's not really willing to leave you alone with Jimin, especially with the smug smile he has on his face right now.
"Bring some candies, too," you ask while he's searching through his wallet to check if he has enough coins.
"And chips," Jimin adds in, smirking like a devious child. "Oh, and ramen, since we're at it."
Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, well aware that his friend has something in mind, but he can't tell what exactly. "Do you have the money for it?"
"You do," he replies quickly, snuggling himself closer to you.
"I'm not paying for your shit, Jimin," Seokjin says back, putting his coins in the pocket of his basketball shorts.
"Ah, come on, hyung!" Jimin groans, but his friend doesn't want to hear him.
He picks up a pair of dirty jeans off the floor, knowing Jimin hides his coins in there. He pulls out a couple, not really caring if he takes more than he needs to.
He puts on his sneakers and brings his phone and keys with him, opening the door. "Don't wait for me!" He yells before exiting his dorm room he shares with Jimin, door closing behind him.
As you're about to press on the spacebar to resume the movie, Jimin closes his laptop, extending his body over yours to drop off the electronic device on the floor.
"What are you doing?" You question him, confused.
"Waiting for Jin."
"But he said-"
He cuts you off, putting his index finger over his lips. "Shut up, will you, princess?" He smiles when you don't dare to open your mouth again, looking at him with widened eyes and pouty lips.
He hovers over you, one hand supporting his weight on each side of your body. He rapidly settles himself between your legs, lowering himself slowly, looking deeply into your eyes. Your heart accelerates and your stomach twists, starting to get nervous about what Jimin is about to do.
He carefully lifts your pyjama top over your belly, making you involuntarily flinch when his lips brush against your skin. He glances at you when you move, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with his piercing gaze as a warning or maybe as a way to reassure you, telling you that you don't have to be anxious.
You swallow in a whine when his pillowy lips lay on your stomach, leaving you bothered and hot by the simplest action, yet the most meaningful at the same time. He kisses your skin, his lips trailing down until they reach the band of your night shorts.
You shiver, swallowing again, the area between your legs heating up as he gives your stomach more kisses. They are wet and warm as well as intimate and sexual.
He presses his plump lips down on you, the tip of his nose touching your skin as he gets terribly close to your crotch. You're flustered by the way he explores this area of your body you never knew was this sensitive until now.
His hands grip the fat of your hips, gripping hard, but it doesn't pain you. It cuts your breath short and makes you feel possessed, like he owns you. Owns your body, owns your emotions because there's nobody else at the moment other than him who makes you feel this way.
His hands on your hips shift down to your clothes that separate you from his insatiable mouth. It's as if it's searching for you, searching for your core that is turning wetter as the time passes incredibly slow.
His lips travel between your thighs and you open them for him, not thinking once about anything else than his mouth on your private parts. His fingers tease you by slipping under the band of your shorts before slipping back up, doing it over again. He pulls them slightly down, but stops since he likes torturing you.
"Are you going to... to, um…" You lose your words, gasping loudly when his mouth finds your bud of nerves, already aching from the lack of contact.
He doesn't stay long, going up just above your pelvis, pulling down on your shorts by hooking two fingers under them at the front. "Yeah," he whispers, confirming your doubts.
You feel his hot breath on your skin, locking eyes with him as he continues to pull, also bringing down your panties. "Like... like the last time?" You ask in a little voice, which makes Jimin smirk.
"Like the last time," he repeats before concentrating back on his task.
He attacks your stomach in kisses, distracting you from the fact that he's now using his two hands to get your shorts and underwear off of you. It works, you don't fight back and only bury your fingers in his thick soft hair.
Rapidly, your clothes find a spot on the floor, being long forgotten the moment Jimin puts his mouth on your pussy. He licks a long strip from your leaking hole up to your clitoris, wrapping his lips around it. He passes his arms around your hips and your legs hang on his shoulders, clad feet touching his lower back.
He nibbles on your clit, suckling on it, making it puffy and swollen. He sucks avidly on your bud and million tingles pass through your body. You buck your hips upward by instinct, pushing down on his head and gripping his hair between your fists.
You moan sweetly, Jimin's cock hardening in his shorts at the beautiful sounds you let out each time he sucks and licks, giving you the impression that he's literally making out with your pussy.
You imprison his head between your plush thighs and he likes the feeling of it, he likes it very much. He's happy to know he makes you feel good, so good that you could suffocate him between your thighs. You do this because you're agitated, squirming around under him and moaning, sounding almost like cute little meows.
His head of silky brown hair peeks out from between your legs and your stomach flutters at the sight, your mind fuzzy from thousand little clouds.
He suckles on your clit and you lack the words to describe the feeling, but it's wet, so wet. His tongue is everywhere, teasing and licking like it’s second nature to him. At this very moment, you believe Jimin was born to eat pussy and nothing else.
He ruts his hips against the mattress and lets out a deep moan, cock aching from being restricted in its confines. The wet sounds your cunt produces turn him on so bad, dick painfully hard at the melody of your moans and at the way you shove him against your pussy as if his head wasn't already buried between your legs.
It's a lot for you, your fingers can't compete against his mouth — they would lose instantly. If Seokjin knew what you two were doing right now, you can't imagine what his reaction would be. You wonder if he knows about last time, there's no way he doesn't, Jimin hides nothing from him.
If he knows, then why did he leave you alone with his friend who is incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth, away from your cunt? That's why he was so hesitant. You feel bad, you shouldn't be doing this behind his back... No, you shouldn't be doing this at all. Or should you?
Is Seokjin's tongue as skillful as Jimin's? As wet and warm? Surely, with his pair of heart-shaped lips you can only imagine what they would do to your poor little clit.
You moan at the thought, twisting Jimin's hair in your small fists, coming closer to your orgasm. It doesn't take you a lot, a few licks and he has you over the edge. With skills like his, you're sure to be in seventh heaven really quickly.
So quickly and intensely that you don't even hear the door opening and closing, nor does your best friend.
"Jimin, what the fuck!?"
You knit your eyebrows at the sudden exclamation, but don't give it much importance as you feel your orgasm coming. Your pleasure is cut short and you get frustrated really fast.
"No, no, no," you panic, feeling Jimin's mouth leaving your pussy. You pull on his hair to have him back against you, but he doesn't budge.
"What?" Jimin responds nonchalantly, looking at Seokjin who has just entered the dorm with sodas and snacks bought at the convenience store down the street. "Don't you want the poor girl to cum?" He smirks like the situation is totally normal.
And maybe it is normal. It's not the first time he's gotten his way with you, it surely won't be the last. You're stupid enough to not see the way your friends look at you, how they undress you with their eyes and how they lick their lips salaciously whenever you find yourself in a compromising position.
They are perverts, but with you they are more than that and you're about to find it out.
You turn your head toward Seokjin who's standing beside the bed, a crease between his dark eyebrows. His gaze is sharp, mad at you for being such a whore, but can he really blame you when Jimin's lips are so tempting, literally breathtaking.
"Oh, please, Jinnie!" You beg, clit pulsating. Having Jimin's mouth just over your cunt is agonizing, so hurtful when he could soothe the ache between your legs in less than a second.
"What are you begging for, hm?" He says, his voice husky, making your stomach twist. You whine, eyes watering at how badly you need this release. "Can you tell me instead of crying like a little slut?"
Jimin looks at you from his spot between your thighs, smiling devilishly with no intention of helping you unless you follow Seokjin's order. You find it unfair and kind of dumb because if he had come in just a minute later, you would've orgasmed by the time. And it would have been magical.
Sloppy kisses are given to your inner thighs and you swear Jimin is doing it on purpose. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Seokjin. "Please, can I cum?"
"I don't know," he answers curtly and you frown even more. He approaches you and lean over you, taking a hold of your jaw, angling it in his direction. "How badly do you want it?" He whispers, his pink lips so close to yours, you can't help but stare at them.
"I- I," you stutter out, totally braindead and on the verge of tears. It shouldn't be that hard to say a complete sentence, but right now, it is. You surely look pathetic, crying for a stupid orgasm. "Please, want it badly."
"Good girl," he purrs when you finally say the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he gives his approval and your eyes light up.
Jimin doesn't wait to get back into it, lips already on your clit when Seokjin lets go of your face. You both look down at where Jimin's mouth operates, slurping up your arousal and flickering your little bud of nerves with his pink muscle.
You whine and grip his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You jut your hips upward in his face, his licks and sucks much more powerful than previously.
You're brought back to the edge of your orgasm in little time, mouth agape as you close your legs around Jimin's head. Seokjin takes the opportunity to insert two of his fingers in your mouth, going deep and pressing his digits down on your tongue.
You close your lips around him and you ask yourself if he's verifying how much you can handle at once. If you can take his long fingers, you're surely capable of taking something else way bigger.
You drool all over yourself and wince at the wet feeling, not really appreciating it. You moan around his fingers as you rock your hips in Jimin's face, the knot in your stomach ripping apart. The pleasure is intoxicating and ten times more intense. Who would've thought Jimin's mouth can turn such a little orgasm into a literal tsunami.
You cum hard while still having Seokjin's fingers knuckles deep in your mouth. You hear Jimin groaning at the pain you inflict on him by pulling on his hair, but he loves the pain and loves even more your cunt rubbing in his face.
Jimin removes your thighs off of his shoulders and pushes them over your stomach. He savours your arousal dripping down from your hole, drinking it like a thirsty man as if it was his only source of water. He makes out with your pussy and this time it's not just an impression. He's opening and closing his mouth on you, sucking on your lips like he would do if he was kissing you.
Seokjin retracts his digits from your mouth and slaps the side of your face with his wet fingers, cupping your jaw after. "Happy? You got what you wanted, greedy little girl," he rasps out, gritting his teeth.
He's so hot when he grits his teeth. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes goosebumps run down your spine. He seems mad, upset you've let Jimin get into your pants so easily without a second thought. Or mad because you didn't wait for him. Well, according to Jimin it's what you were doing, but you shouldn't have started without him. If only you knew you were about to start that.
"Yes," you nod, muttering the word. Seokjin holds your face tightly, fingers pressing on your cheeks, jutting your lips out.
Jimin gets up on his knees and your heart does a flip in your chest at the view of him with his hair tousled, knowing you're the cause of this beautiful mess. His lips and chin are drenched in your juices. He licks them clean and wipes his chin with his hand, flashing you a devious smile after.
"She's just a dumb little girl, now," he teases, bulge very apparent in his shorts. "Did you have a good time, hm? Grinding on my tongue like a deprived virgin?"
Seokjin frees your face to cup your cunt instead, slapping it a couple of times, making you squirm out of overstimulation. "She sure did," he agrees, licking your arousal off his fingers before speaking up again. "Look at her. No thoughts behind those pretty eyes."
You want to say something back, but you can only produce a pathetic whimper.
Jimin is about to lower his shorts over his crotch when Seokjin stops him. "What are you doing?" He asks with a scowl on his face.
"Well, it's my turn," he answers casually, but Seokjin doesn't really agree with him. "I got her all wet, I deserve that pussy."
"Yeah, and you did it behind my back. It's only fair I get to it first-"
"No..." You grumble, interrupting your friend. They both look at you, intrigued with what you have to say. "Stop fighting. I get to decide who enters me." You roll over, getting on your stomach and then on all fours to escape Jimin. You sit up, flicking your eyes between the two men. "And nobody will."
"What!? Why!" Jimin exclaims while Seokjin scoffs. It's stupidly easy to piss them off.
You place yourself over the edge of the bed, your back facing Seokjin and your clad feet hanging off the mattress. You grab Jimin's hand to bring him over to you. You sit on your calves, opening your legs wider and leaning on your hands while Jimin is placed on his knees, back straight.
You look over your shoulder and point at Seokjin where he should be. "Kneel here," you instruct, pointing to the spot just behind you.
You smile when he gets on his knees and he grins back at you, knowing your greedy little pussy wants more. Two pairs of plump lips on your sex on the same day? Blissful.
But you should know Seokjin isn't really the type to follow orders, far away from obeying to your selfish little rules. He's the one who commands, not the opposite. Never the opposite.
"Jimin," you tug on his shorts, making him look down at you.
He smiles sweetly, cradling your face in his warm hands. "Yeah, princess?" He purses his lips as if to send you a kiss. "Wanna suck on my dick? Is that what you want?" He coos, saying such lewd words in a soft voice.
"Please."
He groans appreciatively at your pleading, his cock twitching happily in his briefs. "Get rid of that first, baby," he demands, pulling your pyjama top off of you, revealing your breasts to him. "Perfect..." He purrs, fumbling your tits in his palms before reaching for the band of his shorts.
At the same time Jimin's pulling his cock out, you feel your asscheeks being pushed apart and a big glob of spit falling down between them, dripping down over your puckered hole. You gasp when a thumb comes to stroke the muscle, lubricating it.
You can't really focus on what's happening behind when Jimin's angry erection stands proud just before your eyes. You moan at the sight, having never thought that seeing your best friend's dick would have been so arousing.
He's perfectly girthy, his head a cute shade of pink and glistening in pre-cum. He's not super veiny, but you can sense the weight of it. Looking at it makes you hungry, salivating like a dog in front of a bowl of food.
Jimin is not shaved and you love it. He has two well defined shallow grooves on his abdomen going from his hip bone to his pubis, accentuating how slim and muscled his body is. A few veins pulse out on his abdomen, going down to his pubis, and you want to pass your tongue over each one of them.
You open your mouth, Jimin guiding his cock toward your mouth, but it's at that moment that Seokjin plunges two fingers in your cunt. You moan out, knitting your eyebrows as he reaches a sensitive spot right away. He scissors your insides, and even if you said nobody would fuck you, you think he's stretching you out exactly for that.
"Shhh," Jimin tries to soothe you, patting your head in an endearing manner. "Keep your mouth open, baby." You do so and he doesn't hesitate to penetrate it, moaning in relief as he puts a hand at the back of your head to keep it steady.
He keeps a hand around his base to guide it in your mouth and you relax your jaw, letting him stuff you full of his cock. You want to reach the end so bad, pleasure Jimin like he did with you, but he feeds you his dick slowly, too slowly.
You've never been that eager, that impatient to suck a cock. You want to make him cum, to satisfy him. You want him to use you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sexual object. He can ruin you, fuck your throat with his fat cock, you only care about his — their — pleasure.
He holds your head, letting go of his cock when he considers he's far enough in. "Ah, what a good fucking whore," he praises breathily, watching the way your lips wrap tightly around his stiff erection, drool dripping down on your chin from being so full.
You bat your eyelashes at Jimin, feeling your eyes stinging. He growls when your eyes connect, his fluffy bangs covering his beautiful almond shaped eyes.
You can't see Seokjin's movements, but you can feel everything. His breaths, the calluses on his hand palming your butt, his long fingers pounding into you, his thumb teasing your rim, you feel it all.
He lays his tongue flat over your cunt where his fingers operate, licking a long trail until he reaches your other hole. You clench around him, a little bit taken back by his obsession with your ass, but still really turned on.
It's nowhere near uncomfortable, though it's not an area you usually explore when you're alone. You keep your jaw slack for Jimin as he starts to thrust in back and forth at a slow pace. He doesn't move much, most of his length stays in your mouth. It's enough friction for him to enjoy, hearing his soft moans above you.
You arch your back to Seokjin's pleasure and he groans pleasantly, having his head buried between your cheeks. He curls his fingers in you and pat gently the spongy spot in you, making you moan obscenely around Jimin's thick cock.
It sends delicious vibrations through Jimin's body and he opens his mouth in pleasure, pushing his cock in deeper. He frowns adorably while his mouth is ajar, watching his meaty length disappear and reappear between your swollen lips.
Seokjin's traces your empty hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing you and making you contract around his fingers so hard he has difficulty to move in. He slaps your ass and your whine is muffled because of Jimin's cock in your mouth. You unclench and he can finally move in freely.
He pulls on one cheek while he kisses and licks around your rim, sometimes going in just a little. You push your behind onto Seokjin, eliciting another groan from him, angry or maybe satisfied, you have no idea.
You're trapped between your two male best friends and you don't know what to think, mind so dizzy, potentially ready to explode. One feeds you his cock, the other eats your ass while fingering your pussy. How can your brain function correctly in this situation? Well, it cannot.
"So fucking impatient," Seokjin observes, now entering a bit of his thumb into your hole. The stretch is weird, but it tingles at the same.
He removes his two digits from your drenched pussy, making you whimper around Jimin, spreading your wetness over your puckered hole after he extracted his thumb. You feel the dampness between your cheeks, purring when Seokjin brings up more arousal.
He pulls your two globs of flesh apart, coming to lick your ass again. You feel his nose pressing down on you and the teasing tip of pink muscle tickling your tight hole. He almost cleans you off of your juices, leaving only his saliva and the insatiable hunger he has for your ass.
Your eyes roll back and Jimin sees it, gripping your hair at the top of your head in a tight fist. You let out a painful long whine, loving the burning sting and the stretch of your ass Seokjin offers you.
Jimin guides the bounces of your head on his cock, doing long and rhythmic thrusts. He groans deeply, the sound coming from his throat, and you mewl in return.
His face is all puffy, cheeks coloured in red, breath shallow and lips dried. He licks them, swallowing in a breathy moan after. He looks delectable, his dark gaze planted on you, never once looking away unless it's to watch his thick cock entering your mouth at an exhilarating pace.
You feel digits stroking your rim, teasing a bit before Seokjin spits on it. "I should fuck that tight ass," he states as he spreads his saliva, dipping in his thumb slightly. "For fucking with Jimin behind my back." He passes a finger over your slicks, noticing how wet you are.
You want to protest, hearing Seokjin standing up on his feet after his scary, but tempting threat. You're about to pull out when Jimin pushes down on your head, keeping it in place. "Ah, shit..." He hisses, feeling you swallowing around him.
It's not long until you sense a long cock sliding over your drenched cunt and you look worryingly at Jimin, but he only smiles at you, still holding your head down.
Seokjin pushes his bulbous head down your tight ass hole and you clench around nothing, heart beating faster. You wonder if he'd really dare to do it, but you know he's not the kind of guy to do it the... messy way. He's teasing, as always.
"Stop whining, baby," Jimin coos, stroking your cheek delicately. He moves in slightly and you flatten your tongue under his meaty cock. "Relax, m'kay? There's nothing to worry about, it's just us," he reassures you and you close your eyes, letting him use your mouth as he pleases.
You finally feel his cock penetrating you, sliding in your pussy in one motion. Your wetness allows him to enter you with ease, making you moan around Jimin's hard dick. One hand strokes your back, big palm caressing your sweaty skin, passing over the bumps of your spinal column.
"She's fucking tight, sucking me in like crazy," Seokjin rasps out, smacking one of your asscheeks, making your flesh jiggle from the force of the hit. "Acts like she doesn't wanna get fucked, but that's all she's been dreaming about..."
You whine, wanting to say something, but you can't while having a full mouth. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you, princess?" Jimin purrs, perfect pink lips curving upward into an evil smile.
He refrains a lewd moan from escaping his mouth by biting down on his bottom lip, fist pulling harder on your hair. You do your best to breathe through your nose, focusing on your gag reflex and hollowing your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.
"Ah, fuck-!" Jimin frowns and grits his teeth, too close to his high to continue fucking your mouth. He yanks your head back, pulling out of you in an instant.
His cock twitches after he analyses your face, looking absolutely destroyed. You breathe with difficulty, cheeks stained by your tears and chin by your drool. You blink several times, looking back into his eyes before moaning out loudly, leaning yourself on Jimin.
Seokjin doesn't miss your sweet spot and it's too intense for you, holding on to Jimin for some emotional support. You grip the sides of his t-shirt, sticking the side of your face to his chest, crying against him all while you're getting fucked by one of your best friends.
Jimin can't help but play with your dangling breasts, fumbling the plushy flesh in his rough palms and pulling on your nipples. It makes you arch your back, leaning on Jimin's touch and pushing your hips against Seokjin's.
The man behind you grips your hips tightly, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh, leaving your poor skin sore and the marks of his fingertips behind. He snaps his hips against yours roughly and he seems to never get enough, driving his cock into your wet pussy like a mad man.
Jimin's erection stands just before your eyes, glistening in your spit and hard as rock. He sees you looking at it so he grabs it, guiding it to your lips. "Wanna suck it, baby?" He asks in his sweet voice and you glimpse up at him, drooling on his t-shirt, looking totally braindead. "Don't be shy, open your mouth..."
You part your lips to mouth at the reddened tip, suckling on it gently. Jimin hums, stroking your hair delicately, the opposite of Seokjin's actions who pounds into you with force, using you to get himself off.
Suddenly, he steadies his hips against your ass, stopping his vigorous hip thrusts. He then pulls out and your legs fail you, no longer strong enough to stand on their own without him holding you up. You cry, letting go of Jimin's cock and glancing over your shoulder to see Seokjin getting rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt.
"Do you want to switch?" Jimin questions his hyung and this one nods, catching his breath.
"Yeah," he breathes out a positive answer.
Jimin smirks down at you. "Come here, baby," he softly instructs, grabbing your bicep and bringing you to the head of the bed. He takes off his sweats before stretching out his legs and leaning his head on the pillows. "Turn around, show me this little ass."
You straddle his lap how he wants it and you see Seokjin following you, gently tugging at his aching cock covered in your juices. He's long and curvy, but he looks less stiff than Jimin. You suppose he's the type to get more length when erect, unlike his friend.
"Come on, princess, put it in," Jimin smiles and you look at him, shuddering in desire at his words. "Sit on it," he insists.
"Yes, Minnie," you sigh out of exhaustion.
You take his wet cock in your hand and angle it toward your leaking hole, moaning softly when you sink down on him. The stretch of your cunt is good, feeling completely full. He twitches happily in you, Jimin extending his arms to grip your hips possessively.
You moan in unison, Jimin letting out a long grunt and you a loud whine. He doesn't reach as deep as Seokjin, but he fills you up really well.
"Oh, fuck," Jimin curses, biting down on his bottom lip out of pleasure. "Go ahead, ride me, baby," he softly demands and you oblige happily.
You start doing a grind motion, leaning on Jimin's thighs to keep your balance. He runs his palms all over your body, appreciating your curves and the way you move your hips on him to pleasure yourself.
Seokjin grips your chin, making you face his angry erection, his hand wrapped around it. "Show me how good of a slut you are, sweetheart," he sings, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear.
His long fingers stroke his cock, but they stop at the base when you tilt your head down, catching his swollen tip in your mouth. He hums appreciatively and passes his fingers through your hair, now wet by your sweat. He collects your hair in an improvised ponytail, keeping them away from your face.
You bob your head over his long cock, stroking the base with one of your palms since you can't fit all of him in your mouth, your other palm still sitting on Jimin's thigh. You hear the beautiful, raspy moans of Seokjin, proud of yourself for making him feel good.
He is smoothly shaved, skin soft and sturdy under your tongue and fingertips. You love the sleek feeling of Seokjin's pubis, although you equally adore the stinging feeling of Jimin's pubic hair against your skin.
You grind on Jimin, doing little motions that are more pleasurable to you, but he still approves, muttering a 'fuck yeah' while directing your hips.
You suck Seokjin as if you were in a porno, bobbing your head over his length and moaning around him exaggeratedly. You don't know where this sudden vigour comes from, but you won't complain. Surely not when he looks impressed, in total admiration.
"Fucking slut," Jimin slurs out, pupil dilated and filled in lust at the sight of a white ring around the base of his cock left by your pussy.
You whine around Seokjin, disagreeing with him, or maybe agreeing. It doesn't matter anyway with the way you clench around him each time he throws bad words at you.
You like how they treat you, as if all those insults were deserved and justified. But they know damn well none of the things they say are true, that's why it's so exciting.
You move in slow circles, Jimin's hands grabbing and slapping your ass. Your juices are everywhere, dripping down on his balls and sticking to his pelvis. It feels a little bit nasty, but you don't think anyone in this room really cares.
It smells so much like sex and you wonder how long it'll take for the odour to go away. Knowing your friends, they could probably never open the windows just to keep the smell of you in. You would dissuade them from it, because come on, but the thought makes you slightly smile.
"Fuck, this mouth is doing wonders," Seokjin compliments and you're ravished to hear that. "Don't know how long I'll last, sweetheart," he announces, looking down at your lips gliding smoothly over his long, curvy cock.
"Same," Jimin adds in, voice raspy and breath erratic.
You're encouraged by that, pleased to know you're making them feel really good. You use your full potential and lift up your hips, dropping them back down on Jimin's dick. You love the stretch, love how his cock pushes your walls to make room for himself, being so big your pussy just can't keep his size.
You take Seokjin's in your mouth, slurping and swallowing around him. He groans, telling you how much he likes you and your wet tongue.
"Okay- Fuck," Seokjin begins, but curses when you cup his balls, innocently glancing up at him. He puts a hand on the top of your head and pushes you away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth. "I'm taking her pussy, now," he says, still looking at you even though he's addressing Jimin.
"No! Why?" Jimin complains, groaning loudly in disagreement.
"Because I want to," he says back, too stubborn to even consider another option.
"Well, you're gonna let me finish first."
As you lift up your hips, Jimin's cock pulling out of you, he's quick to turn you around and lay you down on the bed where he was positioned previously. Seokjin lets him, rolling his eyes at the childishness of his friend — even though he's not acting very mature either.
Jimin straddles your waist, stroking his cock just over your breasts, licking his lips. You watch his hand running up and down his length rapidly, all coated in your wetness and saliva of earlier.
"Shit, shit- I'm cumming," he hastily warns, fingers wrapped tightly around his dick. He was already close when he was in you, so it doesn't take long until he's brought back close to his high.
His eyes are blown out, looking at your tits like there's nothing sexier than them. His hips stutter and you place your palms on his naked thighs, feeling how hot his skin is.
"Ah! Fuck," he chokes on his words, angling his cock toward your boobs. You look at him emptying himself on your chest, long ropes of white cum landing on your breasts. He keeps stroking obsessively until he spills out everything, little white beads falling from his wet and reddened tip.
He whines a little when it starts to hurt because of overstimulation. He eventually finishes, passing a hand through his hair, removing his wet bangs from covering his eyes. His chest heaves rapidly as he tries to regain a normal breathing.
"Go away, loser."
Jimin sends a murderous glare at Seokjin before clearing the way, sitting down, back against the wall.
Seokjin penetrates you again, locking your shaky legs behind his back. You gasp when he pounds in immediately, not once missing a beat. You sneak a hand between your legs, reaching your pulsating and puffy clit left alone for too long now.
With your other hand, you swipe a finger in Jimin's cum on your boobs, picking it up and bringing it to your mouth. Seokjin watches you eating his friend's cum and he squints his eyes at you, perhaps a little jealous.
"Oh! Jinnie," you mewl, the knot in your stomach tightening from his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you and your finger drawing quick circles on your clit.
You lick more cum off your fingers, arching your back and closing your walls around Seokjin's long cock. You moan loudly when you reach your high, milky his dick and clenching repeatedly around him, bringing him close to his high as well.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His hips snap against yours and like earlier, they steady on you, cock twitching inside your pussy.
He doesn't pull out this time and paints your insides white in his cum, spurting everything he has deep into you. You sigh of contentment, loving the hot sensation of his cum in your pussy.
"I'm so full, Jinnie," you purrs and he slips out slowly, looking at his seeds dripping out of you as you hole keeps quivering and clenching from your previous orgasm.
He wets his lips, wishing he could see this everyday of the week; you full of his creamy cum. But of course, he's not the only one to want this. He'd have to share.
"Next time, I'm the one cumming inside," Jimin says from where he is, catching a glimpse of the white substance falling out of your hole. "You selfish jerk," he mutters to his friend.
Later on, after Seokjin passed a cloth between your legs and Jimin cleaned the mess he made on your breasts, you fell asleep in Seokjin's bed. The boys finished the movie without you since you were too tired, eyelids closing on their own.
They stayed up late at night, playing video games and eating ramen, sometimes giving each other stupid challenges like doing a certain amount of push-ups in a determined time.
They didn't really disturb your sleep since you were knocked off. Though you sometimes woke up from their voices, you went back to sleep easily. You don't know who slept beside you that night, but you woke up with Jimin's arm around your waist and Seokjin coming back with breakfast.
Yes, it’s more healthier to talk and work your problems out like grownups. But you both were very stubborn to actually come to an agreement, so you both would fuck it out instead. Letting all the anger and frustration out.
It’s how you did things. You both were okay with that, because after you both fucked the shit out of each other, you could actually laugh and talk about your problems on a more lighter note.
It was a win win situation for both of you.
So when Jungkook walks into the living room and notices you laying on the sofa with your book in hand, totally ignoring his presence, did he know his favourite hobby was slowly approaching.
He watches you from a distance for a while, before he slowly walks up behind the sofa, studying your face.
You were still pissed, as he expected.
Jungkooks smirk on his face is evident when he says, “You still mad at me?” His tone teasing and cocky. He uses his hands to lean against the back of the sofa as you lay down on it continuing reading your book.
You can feel his eyes on you, never leaving your position on the sofa. His black hair hanging in front of him as he looks down at you, watching as you make it your point to ignore him as you continue to read your book. The words on the pages leaving your head as soon as you read it.
“Y/N, you can’t ignore me forever” he comments after a moment of silence.
He knows how this goes.
You are mad, will ignore him for a little while,let him tease and try to make up with you, but he knows it’s mostly an act. Foreplay if you will.
Yes you might actually be mad, but you and him both know you can’t resist him, as he can’t with you.
His tongue pokes his cheek when you offer him more silence.
If it’s one thing you know about Jungkook it’s that he hates to be ignored, especially by you.
It’s not that you planned to ignore him after your argument, but his teasing tone and his cocky look on his face made you reconsider.
Plus, you have fun making him annoyed, and your silent treatment is doing the job.
Your eyes follow Jungkook as he slowly makes his way around to the sofa, sitting just by your feet.
His bare torso almost teasing you as you watch him behind the pages of your book.
This is the first time you’ve seen Jungkook today, despite your argument that you had a few hours prior.
You can tell he’s been in the gym, his wet hair full proof.
When Jungkook gets tired of the games and you ignoring him, does he dryly say, “We gonna fuck or what?”
You immediately put your book down discarding it almost instantly on the floor beside you.
“Are you serious? After what you said, you can fuck yourself”
“You said some things too baby” his black inked hand works it’s way up your bare leg, gently stoking it back and forth. You give him another scoff as you nudge him off of you.
“How about you come sit on my lap and we can talk about it huh?” He pats his thighs, the light fabric of his joggers easily outlining the print of his dick. “I can tell you’ve got some more things you want to say”
You hate yourself for already being wet. You can’t help it when he says things like that, especially when he’s got his shirt off and his dick is visible under his sweats.
When you make no move to sit on his lap, despite your wet pussy pleading for you to, Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow and his tongue in his cheek as his eyes gesture down to his lap before looking at you again with the same intense stare.
“Now, y/n”
You find yourself on his lap, his hardening cock right under your pussy as he holds both of your hands in his, gently playing with them.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn huh? Making it so hard to just talk to you” he tilts his head as he watches you, his eyes taking in every feature on your pretty face.
Your breath hitches when his hands leave yours and make its way to your clothed pussy as his fingers rub you through your cotton panties.
“Is it because you wanted to piss me off just so I could fuck you how you like?” His voice is low and teasing which makes your pussy throb.
When you don’t reply, just heavy breaths, he adds more force as he continues to rub you.
“Answer me” he demands which earns a mumbled ‘yes’ with a whiny moan that slips out of your mouth.
He smiles in response already knowing your intentions.
He moves your panties to the side as his two fingers circle around your entrance.
“You’re already so wet princess”
You gasp and lean onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his fingers slip inside you.
It’s your soft moans that make Jungkook go crazy every time, making him want to give you the world, the galaxy, and more.
But for now he’ll just stick to sending you there, to that galaxy he speaks of as his fingers quicken in pace, curving so it hits that spot he knows will have you seeing stars.
“I’m sorry for saying what I said during our argument baby, let me make it up to you?” He nuzzles his nose into your neck as he takes in your sweet smell that he’s obsessed with - He’s obsessed with everything that is you. He then litters a few kisses working his way up to your jaw.
You’re already a whiny mess as you can feel your orgasm approach, despite his fingers working in you for a short amount of time.
“Jungkook” you plead as his lips find their way to yours as he catches your moans in his mouth.
“I want you to cum for me” he tells you before kissing you more harshly as you hurriedly nod.
It doesn’t take you that long after that to come undone around his fingers. Your breathing quickening and your head resting against his bare chest.
He removes his fingers from inside you to suck on them, the taste of you making him eager to try more.
“Lay down for me” he taps your ass in an attempt to catch your attention. You’re not surprised that he’s not finished yet, at least your breathing is returning back to normal.
“Let me clean you up”
You don’t have enough time to register what he’s saying as he suddenly lifts you up off of his lap and lays you down on the sofa.
“Kook, I’m still sensitive” you mumble, watching him pull your wet panties down as his eyes darkly watch you under him.
“I know, I’ll go easy I promise” he kisses your inner thigh, littering kisses that work their way towards your bare pussy. He leans back, admiring you and your wet cunt before he leans back in.
The kiss he gives to your clit makes you gasp, before his lips softly suck on it that almost has you fighting for air.
You grab his hair, tugging on it as his tongue continues to circle your clit before sucking on it again.
“Hmm” the vibrations cause your thighs to close in against his head as you try to fight away the pleasure that is becoming unbearable.
“Don’t fight it baby, let me show you how sorry I am” he sends a lick to your pussy before he starts to make out with it.
You’re a scrambling mess, so much so that Jungkook has to hold you down on your stomach with his hand while the other holds your thigh apart, so he has better access.
His tongue enters your hole and his hand works its way up to your breast to fondle with it. You look down and watch as his eyes are fixated on you.
His intense stare alone can send you over, but the added sight of him eating you out is enough to make you cum again.
Your hands use his hair to guide him through your orgasm, his mouth not showing you any mercy as your body begins to jerk.
“Fuck fuck fuck” your grip on his hair tightens, but that only makes him hum against you.
“Hmm”
Your eyes roll back and you can swear you can see stars.
Jungkook licks off the mess he created, again, as you lay there wondering how you’re going to make it through the night because you know Jungkook has more planned.
“You with me baby?” He hovers over your tired body as his hand comes up to stroke your flushed cheek.
His mouth and chin glistens with your juices and you’re eager to taste yourself.
You nod, pulling him down for a kiss. Your hand makes its way inside his joggers, his boxers fully discarded after his shower, not long after he came back from the gym. You stroke him back and forth, a quiet moan escaping his lips as he continues to kiss you.
You’re already eager to have him inside of you. Despite you and your pussy being tired, the feel of his cock in your hand only makes you want him inside of you.
You pull him completely out of his sweats, moaning at the way he sucks on your bottom lip.
His red tip is already rested against your swollen pussy, you guiding him up and down while your free hand strokes his muscular back.
“Stop teasing and let me feel you” he mumbles against your lips.
You chuckle at that and let him inside.
Both of your moans fill the room as you both feel each other. His cock is stretching you out and you try to prepare yourself for the orgasm he’s going to give you, because he already had you exhausted and those were just his two fingers.
You watch Jungkook as he licks his lips and bites them, he’s watching as he goes in and out of you. His pace is slow, allowing you to get used to his length for now, you know it won’t last long though.
His thumb comes up to your mouth as you slowly suck on it, both of your eyes never leaving each other as his cock continues to give you long, slow strokes.
“I’m sorry beautiful” he tells you again, he really wants you to know how sorry he is.
His pace is still slow, but the added force he gives when his full cock is inside you has you gasping for air.
“I’m so, so sorry” his thumb leaves your mouth and works its way down to your pussy as he softly rubs it.
“I don’t ever want to make you feel sad or angry, those aren’t my intentions baby”
You clench around him as you listen to his words. You’re so fucked out that you can’t even form your own sentence, just whiny mumbles and moans.
Hearing your moans causes him to quicken his pace. That and the feel of his balls slapping against your ass has you a mess as words scramble out of your mouth.
Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock hits your spot each time it goes in you.
Your juices can be heard amongst the sound of his balls slapping against your skin, and your moans, along with his grunts.
“I’m sorry” you choke out, knowing you had some part of the argument too.
“I know baby, I know”
He repeatedly lets his length leave your pussy, just the tip inside before he slams into you. His movement along with the added force makes both of you groan.
“Jungkook” you choke out. His movements becoming so forceful that your body starts to jolt in its position on the sofa.
His hand comes up to your neck as it wraps around it causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure.
“So what was you saying before huh. I can fuck myself? why would I do that when you do it better baby?”
You don’t answer him, your words getting caught in your throat as he continues to ram into you.
“Look at how well you’re taking me” he grabs onto your waist with both of his hands, lifting you up slightly as he slows down his movements, but still fills you up completely with his cock.
“Such a good girl”
“Hmm fuck” you feel your third orgasm approach.
Jungkook hungrily fucks you as he feels you nearly there. His thumb rubs your wet cunt as you shut your eyes.
“Open your eyes”
Your eyes open despite them fighting to stay closed, your tiredness quickly taking over as he continues to fuck the shit out of your slumped body.
You’re sure his eyes have never left you. His hair is a mess that falls in-front of him as he leans over you, him still looking insanely good. His eyebrows are furrowed as he concentrates on giving you another orgasm. His own starting to approach. And his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches your face screw in pleasure.
Your face alone can make him cum right now, it’s enough to send him over the edge. But he’d hate himself if he deprived you of an orgasm.
“Cum for me baby” he watches you in all your glory as you whimper, your orgasm approaching fast.
“P-please, fuck” you cum around his cock when it hits your spot. You can still feel him working inside you as you come down from your orgasm. Him still forceful with his movements as he chases his high.
Your pussy is a throbbing mess, it clenching now and then around his dick. Your juices have surely made its way to your sofa, luckily it’s leather.
“Kook” you’re becoming sensitive and his cock is too much for you to take anymore. You reach down and stroke him while his cock continues to go in and out of you. You can feel your wetness on him which eggs you to tighten your grip around him.
“F-fuck” he watches your hand move along his length as the rest of him feels the warmth of your insides.
Your free hand moves to his hair, pushing back the strands that have fallen down as you feel him cum inside of you.
His body slumps against yours, being careful not to hurt you as you both try to control your breathing. Your hand running up and down his back, a kiss being delivered to his shoulder.
If sex was going to be like that, you want to argue more often.
summary: jungkook had an undeniable fondness for your vanilla-flavored chapstick, so it came as a surprise to him when you decided to switch up the flavor one day. the unexpected change left him pleasantly taken aback.
pairings: boyfriend!jungkook x f!reader
genre/warnings: established relationship, kissing, a disgusting amount of fluff, a lil crack
wc: 1.5k
a/n: here’s some jk fluff until i find the motivation to write ur requests :p haven’t proof read!
you perched on a stool beside the kitchen island, propping one leg up on the seat and resting your chin on your knee. in an attempt to ease your anxiety, you absentmindedly chewed on a small plastic spoon—the kind typically used to serve ice cream samples. it had become a peculiar habit of yours, seeking solace in chewing on random objects.
with unwavering focus, your gaze remained fixed on the vibrant glow of your laptop screen. as you effortlessly typed away, your glasses perched slightly lower on the bridge of your nose, yet you paid no mind to readjusting them, fully immersed in your work.
the hushed echoes of soft footsteps resonated through the hallway, heralding jungkook's arrival in the kitchen. a gentle yawn escaped his lips, a telltale sign of him awakening from his midday nap. after his routine gym session, he often indulged in these power naps, finding solace and rejuvenation in their brief respite.
as you stole a brief glance at him, you couldn't help but find his tousled hair endearingly adorable as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. with deliberate and unhurried steps, he made his way towards you. a low, rumbling sound akin to a contented growl escaped him before he mumbled a sleepy "morning," despite the fact that it was well past 2 p.m.
a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you inquired, "slept well?" a gentle smile adorned your face as he leaned in to plant a tender peck on your temple, his arms enveloping you from behind, and his cheek resting against your shoulder. in response to your question, he emitted a contented purr, conveying his satisfaction.
as you directed your attention back to the screen, a gentle smile graced your lips while a melodic hum escaped in response to his presence. meanwhile, the plastic spoon in your mouth clinked against your teeth. time ticked by as he slouched against you before eventually straightening up, his tattooed hand tenderly ruffling his own hair. as he positioned himself beside you, he posed the question, "coffee?" to which you replied with a nonchalant, "i already had one."
a gentle, low hum resonated from his throat as his hand, previously occupied with ruffling his hair, extended gracefully to retrieve the small spoon from your mouth. in a tender exchange, he planted a sequence of brief, velvety kisses upon your lips, prompting a soft giggle to escape from you against his mouth. his lips curled into a smile in response.
with a subtle, sly grin playing on his lips, he pulled back, his eyes still partly closed in the lingering embrace of sleep. he ran his tongue over his lips, detecting an unfamiliar yet oddly sweet taste that enveloped his senses, causing a slight crease to form between his eyebrows in bewilderment. maintaining close proximity to your face, he gazed at you intently. "what?" you inquired, your voice tinged with a low, curious tone, accompanied by a raised eyebrow.
his gaze descended upon your lips, and with a swift motion, he kissed you once more, his lips meeting yours in a gentle embrace. this time, there was an added element of intimacy as his tongue lightly traced over your bottom lip, evoking a soft, surprised utterance of "mm" from you.
after a few fleeting seconds, he gradually pulled back, his gaze meeting your amused eyes. the faint furrow in his eyebrows lingered as he tilted his head to the side, his tongue tracing over his lips once more. "cherry?" he inquired, causing you to mirror the slight crease on his brows. however, a soft, laughter-tinged scoff escaped you as realization dawned. returning your attention to the laptop screen, you watched as he straightened up, shaking your head with a hint of amusement. "raspberry," you corrected, a playful lilt present in your voice.
a gentle hum escaped him as he leaned against the counter, propping himself up on his elbow, his fingers idly toying with the small spoon he still held. a soft pout graced his lips out of habit as he fixed his gaze upon you, fully engrossed in your work, observing your unwavering focus.
"that's new." his words escaped as a muttered observation, prompting a soft laugh to escape your lips. Intrigued, you ceased typing and leaned back against the stool, crossing your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze with playful curiosity. "do you not like it?" you questioned, feigning a hint of mock hurt as your eyebrows furrowed deeply, your voice carrying a tinge of playful theatrics.
a soft click of his tongue accompanied an amused laugh, laced with playful offense. he mirrored your posture, crossing his own arms against his chest in a charming display. "i never said that," he retorted, his words carrying a slight pout as he defended himself, provoking an amused, sly grin from you.
"that's certainly what you implied," you countered, playfully teasing him.
"if I did," he began, his voice trailing off as he casually discarded the little spoon into the trash. "would i do this?" without further hesitation, he swiftly leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender assault of soft kisses. his hands delicately cradled your cheeks, ensuring your unyielding presence in that moment. you playfully whined, your hands instinctively reaching to gently grasp his wrists as you emitted a soft laughter, intermingling with the exchange of affection against your lips.
"stop!" your voice pleaded, muffled against his persistent kisses. despite your plea, you could sense the curve of his lips forming into a smile, intermixed with soft giggles escaping from him. he pressed closer to you, firmly holding your lips against his, indulging in the moment a little longer than your lungs desired, before finally pulling back. the brief separation left you both breathless, yet utterly captivated.
a breathless laugh escapes him as he shielded himself with his arms, attempting to evade your playful smacks. With each successful strike, he exaggeratedly exhaled faux sounds of pain, adding a touch of dramatic flair to the moment.
after a playful exchange, he eventually seized both of your wrists, firmly yet gently, to halt your actions. bringing your arms behind his back, he drew you into a warm and affectionate embrace. he wrapped his own arms around you, one hand tenderly cradling the back of your head, urging you to bury your face against his neck.
"you're an annoying little rat." you playfully muttered against his neck, eliciting an amused laugh from him. "a rat?" he feigned offense, his voice carrying a slight, teasing high pitch as he struggled to contain the widening smile tugging at his lips while keeping you securely held against him.
"you just kissed a rat." he teased in response, playing along to taunt you further.
"the rat kissed me."
"you kissed back."
"did not."
he emitted a gentle giggle, the sound mingling with the strands of your hair as he tightened his embrace around you. in a playful retaliation, you teasingly sank your teeth into his neck, evoking a soft sound of pain from him. he instinctively pulled back, his eyes searching yours, only to find you grinning widely, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, as if reveling in your victorious prank.
"deserved."
"does raspberry flavored chapsticks come with an attitude?" he quipped sarcastically, causing a genuine gasp to escape your lips. you couldn't help but be amused, a laughter-tinged scoff escaping as your mouth remained slightly agape, caught between surprise and amusement.
"you're insufferable." you declared, narrowing your eyes in mock annoyance. with a huff, you turned your head away from him, crossing your arms against your chest, a subtle display of defiance. meanwhile, he couldn't help but wear a self-satisfied smirk, reveling in the mischievous banter between you.
"don't be such a baby," he teased, his voice laced with playful amusement. his arms skillfully encircled you from the side. with a mischievous intent, he maneuvered his face in front of yours, attempting to meet your gaze once more, but you averted your eyes, purposefully moving your gaze further away, adding an extra touch of coy resistance.
narrowing his eyes in mock annoyance, he swiftly retaliated by tickling you, catching you off guard. you flinched in surprise, a sound of startled amusement escaping your lips before you burst into frustrated bursts of laughter. despite your feeble attempts to push him away, you failed miserably, only fueling his amusement. he chuckled, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, barely containing the urge to laugh further at your delightful struggle.
"you're such a pain!" you exclaimed, delivering a light smack to his chest once he finally relented. your breaths were heavier than usual from the tickling, and he couldn't help but throw his head back in a fit of laughter. his arms instinctively clutched his stomach.
"we could've avoided all of this if you had just cooperated," he exclaimed, a mischievous smirk adorning his lips once his laughter subsided. his arms found you once again, this time lifting you effortlessly from the chair and throwing you over his shoulder. you let out a startled yelp, your eyes widening. "i believe it's time to teach my little cherry a lesson," he teased in a low, flirty tone, beginning to make his way towards the bedroom while you struggled.
"it's raspberry!" you protested with a mix of laughter and determination.
summary: "i think, just think, if you stay here, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: jeon jungkook rotting my brain fluff
wc: 875 words (tiny baby)
a/n: lmao look who's back because she fell asleep on jungkook's live (like literally my phone was on my face) also for this story's sake, this took place in the dark of morning and not the dawn :] also, also, there's a spoiler for the pale horse by agatha christie in here :P happy 10 years everybody! here's to more ♡
-
"how was the book, my love?"
you trip over the soft rug placed infront of the bathroom door, startled that your boyfriend's still awake at 3:33 a.m. you figured he would fall asleep after watching spiderverse reels and coming up with tons of theories about the final movie of the trilogy. jungkook lies on your side of the bed, fluffy mop of dark hair covering his tired eyes. you take your time with your skincare routine, describing the agatha christie you've been reading for the past 2 and a half hours, knowing it was gonna be a long night anyway.
"it was thallium poisoning, koo, not witchcraft. i never knew your hair could fall out in clumps because of that." you gently massage the serum into your face, looking around from the mirror to jungkook's gaze on you, slight smile playing on his pierced lips.
"did you put this before heading to bed, koo?" he moves his head absentmindedly, eyes darting from the small bottle in your hand to your face back again. you take it as a yes, meticulously placing the bottle in its designated place. you all but rush to bed, sneaking under the covers to his side of the bed.
your beloved shifts from lying to his side to on his tummy, chin placed on his special neck pillow, cheeks getting squished from his hands holding up his head. you scoot closer to him, brushing the bangs away from his face. you finally catch the stars in his eyes, nose scrunching in delight at the impromptu head massage.
"what's on your mind, baby?" you mumble into his hair, when he finds his way to your chest, arms immediately wrapping around you tightly in the softest way possible. "dunno," you feel his shoulders go up and down when shrugs, "there's always something up there now, you know?" he practically buries his face in your neck, placing a chaste kiss here and there. his fingers trace their way all the way from your hipbone to your shoulder, fidgeting with the thin silver necklace holding the delicate pendant he had given you on your birthday.
"wanna sleep and at the same, i don't wanna," he pouts, moving away from you ever so slightly to look up at you. "and why is that?" you ask curiously, smiling at him shivering at the touch of your cold fingers at the back of his neck. jungkook gazes at your eyes boring into him like warm rays of sunshine after a sudden spring shower. your moon-like eyes turns into pretty crescents when the silence gets comfortable, your bodies blending into one for warmth, despite the sultry heat outside. jungkook flings his leg over you, practically intertwined with you like vines on a lamp-post. its like his mind has come to a standstill, in a good way. the million thoughts running in his head has suddenly ceased, all because of your firm yet tender hands on him, one playing with his hair absentmindedly and the other tracing hearts on the upper part of his tattoo sleeve.
jungkook knows, despite not answering your question, you see right through his silence. he has wondered and pondered, over countless nights and self made whiskey cocktails, what exactly plagues his mind to avoid him catching up on some shut eye. he is no stranger to insomnia, often finding himself with new hobbies to while away the time till he finally gets sleepy. he boxed, karaoke-d, cooked his way through it all, that is until, he found you.
his own personal remedy, in the form of the most emotive, sometimes amorous love. nights spent with you is new everyday, no matter the place or time. you both could be on the couch, tummies full and hearts content at 9:45 p.m and jungkook would find himself asleep within seconds, something he could rarely achieve by himself. your lingering touches are something he thought he could only dream of, often waking up to you rolled over to the other side of the bed, grumbling to himself about your adventurous sleeping habits, wondering why you could never stay in one place, knowing he's subject to your teases about the same everyday. he gently pulls you to him anyway, spooning you until he finds the warmth he was searching helplessly for so long in his dream-like state.
"i can only sleep well when you're here with me," he confesses, a whisper into the dark space you both fondly call home. you catch his doe eyes on you, the night lights from outside never failing to enhance the galaxies you wake up to and sleep to everyday. jungkook clasps the back of your shirt in his hand, a subtle sign that he's succumbing to sleep's heavy hold.
"i think, just think, if you, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."
your hand immediately resumes it's precious job, chuckling slightly at his quiet request of a head massage. his eyelashes flutter when his eyelids betray his mind, wanting one last look at you before he sees you again. before you know it, he's snoring away to dreamland in your arms, where you trust you'll meet him soon.
(thank you, @dearlyjoonie for the cute little banner!!)
Pairing: boyfriend!jk x reader
Genre: smut!!! (18+), established relationship, zero plot just sex.
Word Count: 841
Summary: you and jungkook fuck in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
Warnings: clitoral stimulation, teasing, fingering, making out, sweatiness (lol), sex in front of a mirror, foggy/steamy bathroom, begging, some minor manhandling, eye contact in mirror, unprotected sex, cumshot, reader gets teary, lots of whining, showering together henced at the end.
Authors Note: this is probably the quickest I have ever finished something in my entire writing career thus far. also, my first jk piece!!! sorry for making the girlies wait so long. hope you enjoy, and as always give me your thoughts!!
Want to be added to my taglist? Click here.
_
“Please…” Your voice was a barely audible whine as Jungkook’s fingers didn’t let up on your clit.
“Finish that sentence.” Jungkook looked at you through the bathroom mirror that was beginning to fog up. One of your legs hiked up so that your knee rested on the countertop. Both of your clothes are almost gone, thrown in piles onto the floor. “I want to hear you.”
His sentence was punctuated by his middle and ring finger dipping between your folds and leaving in an instant. You tried to lean into him and keep him there longer, but he pulled away; making you cry out in desperation.
The humidity from the bathroom was making your shirt that was hiked up to reveal more of your body to Jungkook stick to you. The body heat coming off Jungkook was not helping the situation, your back against his naked upper body.
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, letting out a sigh. Jungkook leaned down, his voice right in your ear.
“Finish the sentence.”
You were sure that your wetness was about to drip onto the floor at this point because you could hear the noise from Jungkook’s fingers.
“Please. I need…I need…” Your voice breathy. “I need you. Your cock, your fingers, anything.”
“Good girl.” He pressed a kiss by your ear, making a chill run down your spine.
You let out an erotic moan when you felt his fingers inside of you again. This time fucking into you just how you like it; swirling to explore your inner walls.
“Fuck, I love your pussy.” Jungkook’s voice was low; somewhat muffled in your neck.
You closed your eyes, nodding to whatever he was saying.
He held your body against himself as he suddenly started going harder; knowing you liked it that way.
“Yes…Fuck.” You whined, slightly smirking to yourself as you grabbed onto Jungkook’s arm, your nails slightly scratching his skin.
“Fuck.” He grunted before pulling away from you, quickly pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.
You sucked in a breath when you felt him teasing your entrance; practically dripping for him.
“Don’t tease me.”
Jungkook hummed in response, slipping the tip of his cock into you, then pulling it out. You leaned forwards onto the countertop.
“No!” You whined, trying to move back towards him, feeling the cold marble in contrast to your hot skin. “Please, please, please.” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so desperate in your life.
“You know I like hearing you beg for it.” Jungkook’s hands grabbed your waist to steady you. “But I think you’ve done enough, right?” He looked at you through the mirror again, locking eye contact for a few seconds. You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a whimper.
Your mouth fell open when he finally pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out in the first thrust.
Jungkook groaned at the feeling, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts. You reached behind you with one of your hands to grab onto him.
“Fuck, right there.” You cried out, eyes starting to water. “Don’t stop.”
You were already so worked up, you felt like you could cum at any moment. Your walls were already clenching around his length.
Jungkook pulled your body up, your back against his chest, arms holding you tightly against him. You gasped at the sudden change in position, and Jungkook’s rhythm never changed.
“Fuck, you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jungkook was panting, his hot breath on your neck.
You couldn’t find the words, so you just nodded.
Jungkook started fucking into you harder; making you clutch onto him. You were being so loud now that you were so sure he was going to cover your mouth.
“Jungkook. Fuck.” You turned your face towards his as he watched you in the mirror, your body slightly trembling. You closed your eyes, brows furrowed and feeling like you’re dripping sweat – or maybe it was Jungkook. “I’m so close…”
“Mhm.” He turned and sloppily kissed you. “Tell me.”
Your orgasm crashed over you soon after; and you did nothing to stop it. Your pretty sure you let out a rather loud whine, because Jungkook quietly shushed you as he continued to fuck into you. He was still holding onto you as you probably would have fallen if he wasn’t.
“Jungkook…” You mumbled, starting to get overstimulated.
“Can I cum inside of you, baby?” Jungkook asked you, his face close to yours. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Please, please.” You nodded almost too quick, biting down onto your bottom lip. “Wanna feel you.”
Jungkook’s rhythm got sloppy right until he abruptly crashed his lips into yours. You moaned into his mouth when you felt him finish inside of you.
“Fuck.” You moaned against Jungkook’s mouth as he was still kissing you, your fingers ran through his dark hair that was somewhat damp with sweat. “What a mess…”
Jungkook hummed, beginning to kiss down your neck. “Tell me about it.” He slightly laughed. “Wanna get in the shower?”
summary: in which jungkook can sleep without you, but he’d rather not to.
> fluff, suggestive, they’re so in love it hurts typa angst / wc: 2.4k
> warnings: jungkook is hard and tipsy and sleepy and needy for love and oc is ready to risk it all, making out, grinding, allusion to s/x
note: just a lil sumsum to indulge in the painful blues and sappiness i’ve been having lately <3 you can blame this one to my hormones <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated :]
—
you almost trip on your own feet, sputtering out a string of whispered, panicked curses as you stumble inside the dark apartment. jungkook’s beloved galaxy projector lamp illuminates the space you also call your own, and although you adore it as much as him, you wish he didn’t turn off the light by the door in favor of it.
“oh, jungkook.” you murmur softly, dropping your bag as a careless heap on the floor as you kneel beside his vessel in slumber on the couch. he fell asleep on his stomach, side of his face smushed against the outstretched arm he’s using as a pillow. you pry off the remote control from the confines of his left hand, turning off the television before setting it down on the center table.
the distinct scent of fabric softener permeates the air— unmistakably kindled by your boyfriend’s affinity for scented candles. the soothing crackles of the candle wick burning on the side table contests with jungkook’s snoring, and you can’t say this is the first time you’re listening to this unique harmony.
you tenderly caress his hair, moving down to his beautiful face, and the pad of your thumb brushes over the apple of his cheek. and as your watery eyes take its sweet time adoring his godly allure, you decide to worry about how you would bring him to bed later. he just looks so peaceful like this, and you do not have the heart to wake him up.
you plant a loving kiss on his forehead before you stand on your feet, picking up the bag you left on the floor, and you jolt in surprise when a hand seizes your wrist.
jungkook utters your name, hushed and slurred that you almost don’t recognize the word.
“is it you? you’re home?” he croaks out, blinking his eyes to adjust from pitch black to his current surroundings. “what time is it?”
“four in the morning,” you sit down beside his stomach, whispering to him quietly as if there was anybody else in the room you could possibly wake up. “i didn’t drink. at all. not even a drop. i lost in rock-paper-scissors and ended up being the designated driver. for the second time in a row! i’m cursed!”
he slowly stretches out his lethargic limbs as he shifts to lie down on his side, chuckling at the sound of your grouchy tone as you laid out the story before he could even ask how your night out went.
“my poor baby- would’ve helped you but i needed to be taken care of, too.”
“made it home safe, so it’s fine.” you smile as you give his cheek little pats, and he catches your hand in his to press kisses to your knuckles. “go back to sleep. i still need to go wash up.”
“my goodnight kiss.” he puckers up his lips in a doll-like pout, urgently demanding for affection before you can leave.
you lean down to grant his request, and he guides your face in his warm hands to connect his pillowy lips with yours. you instinctively hold on to his forearms so you won’t collapse on top of him, heart skipping multiple beats as you find yourself lost in the feeling of your lover relishing in the intimacy of having no distance between you. a second feels like a minute, a minute- an hour.
the kiss breaks, but he still keeps you close so that his nose lightly brushes against yours. “jelly? you smell like jelly… i like it.”
“now, you do, too.” you’re the one to completely pull away, wiping away the boysenberry gloss smeared on his silken lips using your thumb. its saccharine scent replaces the hint of beer that lingered around him. “go to bed, my love.”
“nuh-uh. i’m already too comfy here.” he protests weakly, curling up into fetal position and burying his face into the cushion of the couch.
“okay, okay. suit yourself.” you roll your eyes, grabbing the edge of the blanket pooled below his feet and draping it over him until it reaches his shoulder. his heart flutters at the thoughtful gesture, but when he turns his head to look at you, preparing to persuade you into sleeping with him there, you’re already out of sight.
—
your melodic humming of ‘my funny valentine’ echoes in the bathroom, unable to shake it off after singing the song with your friends in the karaoke room. you waltz around as you return the products you used in the cabinet next to the mirror, and then you wipe the floor dry from the drops of water that fell when you stepped out of the shower booth.
when you deem yourself satisfied with the cleanliness of the bathroom post your bedtime routine, you conclude that it’s finally time to allow yourself much-needed rest. you were all over the place for the past twenty-four hours, and the promise of drifting off into unconsciousness with jungkook sounds like paradise.
you swing the door open and-
“oh my god!”
…your knees nearly give out, heart jumping out of your skin when you’re met by a ball of figure on the floor, enshrouded by your own dark shadow. but the bathroom light manages to shine over the little yellow star patterns on the navy blue blanket wrapped around the mystery person, and you just know.
you clutch at your aching chest with a sigh of relief, still breathless as you sputter out. “what are you doing here? i thought the sofa was comfy?”
jungkook lazily lifts up his head, most of his hair falling on his face but he couldn’t care any less because if you give him one poke he would definitely be sent straight to the dreamland among the clouds. his round doe eyes have turned into slits as he squints up at you, his lips forming a permanent pout.
“i was, but i don’t want to fall asleep without you again.” he scoffs out the complaint as he attempts to rub off the sleep from his eyes. “i need your love, please.”
you don’t think jungkook realizes— just how courageous it is to build camp infront of a door asking to be given love, holding his pounding heart in the palm of his hands, and trusting that you will accept it in yours to handle it with the gentlest of care.
he has come a long way from when he would bend himself backwords to make you happy and comfortable despite your constant reassurance. he wanted to retain your attention, to occupy your thoughts, to make a bigger space for him in your heart. he was afraid of appearing weak, too needy, not worth the trouble. and no matter what it took, he wanted you to never run out of reasons to stay. however, for the jungkook of today, control is an abandoned form of self-destruction and he can tell you in confidence that ‘here i am in all my glory. there are unfixable, fractured parts of me and i am laying them out on the floor for you to see- you can take me or leave me, but i know you’ll always choose the former’ and ‘i am stubborn and i do not give up’ and ‘i want to buy a house in the countryside with you’ and most of all ‘i need your love.’
often times you hear the question ‘how you can make a relationship last?’ being asked. beyond love, patience, and respect— you think… what makes a true love ‘true’ is faith. and out of all these feelings and capacities, to be honest, it might just be the most difficult one to surrender to another soul.
“babe, literally, you were already asleep down there.” you put a hand over your hip, giggling in amusement.
“no, i wasn’t!” he strongly denies. he reaches out to his side to show you the glass of scented candle you failed to notice until now. the melted wax sloshes around like waves crawling to and from the shore. “i was watching the candle to keep myself awake. like this-”
he demonstrates the earlier scenario with a small smile of mischief tugging at the corner of his lips. like an enamored moth, he draws closer to the candle that casts a subtle orange glow on his skin. the flickering flame forms a burning star in each of his wide eyes as it frantically dances to its own beat: making itself smaller, stretching taller, and swaying back and forth.
time stands still. he looks absolutely breathtaking, too good to be true, like an angel that only appears in dreams. you’re almost sure that this life is a hoax and he’s come to take you away. the crackling of the candle gradually lulls you to sleep, and when you wake up, he will be a distant memory.
but then he playfully grins at you and he crosses his legs to switch positions— the weight of his calf almost crushing your toes reminds you that he’s tangible. you chuckle, heart swelling in ten sizes because you can never imagine yourself getting sick of his simultaneously endearing and humorous antics.
“okay, babe. sorry for making you wait.” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair to gather it on the back of his head and form a ponytail in your fist, a little paranoid that a strand would dip in the candle and burn. still, his bangs escape and cascade down like waterfalls. “let’s go to bed and you can have all the love you need.”
“about damn time.” he enunciates the curse word, instantly springing on his feet, and the sudden movements blows out the treasured candle he’s been carrying around. his expression drops. “oh shit- it fainted-”
“it just fell asleep, don’t worry.” you support his silly joke. “wait- i forgot to close the door of the shower.” you huff in annoyance, catching a glimpse of it when you peeked in to flip off the lightswitch.
jungkook, on the other hand, sneakily speedruns to return the blanket on the couch and the candle beside its many other siblings. they have turned into an organized mess of a collection on the small corner of the living room, along with three of those long stick of lighters and assorted remote controls of your appliances.
the second after you shut the door behind you, your boyfriend is already enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck to drown yourself in the comfort of his embrace, and before you know it, the fuzzy slippers spill from your feet as his strong arms sweep them off the floor. your legs automatically encircle his waist as he walks to your dimly-lit bedroom.
“i swear i’m stealing you from your friends for the rest of the week.” he says in a raspy voice before pressing a kiss to your temple. “have i told you that i missed you?”
“hmmm-” you tilt up your chin to look at his face, scrunching your nose as you pretend to be in deep thought. “not yet. i don’t think so.”
“i missed you.”
“then i’ll meet you in your dreams.” you smile sweetly, poking his supple cheek as he kneels on the bed and gently lies you down on the mattress. he settles down beside you, using your arm as a pillow. a squeak escapes your mouth when he squeezes you closer to his body, breathing out a sigh of sheer contentment because he is cuddling with you at last.
“goodnight, baby. i’ll dream of you.”
listen, you know, you’re drained. your ankles are soulless ghosts and your eyes are drooping heavily. but you can feel his hard-on poking your bare thigh, only separated by his sweatpants, and you can’t fucking brush it off because it’s also waking up something very carnal in you. you harshly chew on your bottom lip before you muster up a voice.
“want me to take care of you, baby boy?”
jungkook’s eyelids flutter open, and he raises an eyebrow sternly at your offer. “you’re tired. and you need to wake up in a few hours for work.”
“you’re more important to me than work.” you throw caution to the wind, tucking his hair behind his ear to pepper featherlight kisses all over his face. “besides, i did say that i’ll give you all the love you need, didn’t i?”
the tenderness of your ministrations makes him fold, swallowing thickly as he mutters. “oh, fuck it.”
you gasp as he easily manhandles your body on top him, capturing your lips for a searing kiss as he grinds his hips against yours in a slow, coaxing rhythm. you shudder under his touch— his desperate hands slip under your shirt to caress your waist, tracing your curves as if he’s mapping out your figure, and your fingers tightly curl around the fabric of his sleeves to cling to your remaining shred of strength and sanity.
“i love you- hmmph-”
he doesn’t allow you to finish your sentence. with a filthy moan, he swallows your words to satiate his thirst, sliding his tongue in your mouth to taste more of peppermint and honey and bliss. he smiles into the kiss when you vibrate with a sulky whine, pushing you far enough to see your face. he plants an apologetic peck on your lips, pulling up your t-shirt to reveal the expanse of your skin to the cold air, but he quickly remedies it as he strokes your lower back with his smooth palm.
“i love you more.”
his lips part, a glossy dark shade of pink, and his bunny teeth tug at the silver ring adorning the corner of his mouth as he gloss over your facial features. the sun is about to rise in the east, and it is another day of existing in this beautiful and wretched world with you.
“i’m so fucking lucky to have you, you know that?”
you break free from his hold to properly straddle his small waist, and it’s almost embarrassing how he’s too eager, putting his tattooed arm beneath his head to get a better view of bewitching temptation in its finest. his free hand, shaky with desire and anticipation, finds your bare thighs to caress.
“i know.” your cocky grin turns him on even more, testing the blurry limits of his compromised self-control. his lovedrunk eyes drink you in as you begin stripping off your black t-shirt, which he then recognizes to be his. “but remind me again after i rock your world, will you?”
—
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
Genre: smut/pwp, neighbours/enemies-to-well, not really lovers, not even really fuckers lmao
Word count: 5.8k
Summary: You've moved into a nice, new apartment but there's just one problem: your noisy neighbour with the voice of an angel who insists on doing karaoke in the small hours. You decide it's about time to tell him off and get a whole lot more than you bargained for.
Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex (well... sort of... you'll see!), dom!JK, slight bratty reader, bit of spanking, bit of biting, overstimulation, alcohol consumption
A/N: JK said middle of the night karaoke (again!) so here we are (again!) lmao. Originally written for M @here2bbtstrash. Not edited for reposting.
* * *
The previous tenant of your new apartment had assured you that there were no issues with the apartment, the landlord, the building, the management company, or the neighbours. It was peaceful, quiet, they had said. They were clearly lying.
You pull the pillow off your head and huff, frowning into the darkness of your bedroom. You check the clock: 2am. 2am. Who does karaoke at 2am on a Wednesday?! You put the pillow back over your face and scream into it; you can’t hear it yourself over the noise of your next-door neighbour’s wailing and warbling. This has been going on long enough.
He has no set pattern, no set routine, it seems, so it’s not even as if you can plan your life around it. At weekends, you don’t mind; people can do what they like at the weekend; you’re not immune to fun! And, truth be told, he has a nice voice; at least he can actually sing well. But cranking up the karaoke machine at midnight on a weeknight is pushing it. And you’re at your limit. You’re supposed to be sleeping but your heart is hammering as anger floods your system, blood roaring in your ears, your patience so worn, it’s transparent.
It’s almost project deadline time which means a) there is more work to do than there has ever been because, obviously, everyone is running behind and no one is ready and b) very important meetings with the clients to explain why you’re behind and how, actually, it’s fine and ok and you are all good at your jobs even though nothing is ready. It would be stressful and exhausting on 8-hours a night, but you were scraping through with three or four thanks to your pop-star wannabe neighbour.
Silence. Has he stopped? Is it over?
A new song starts. The single thread with which you had been hanging on snaps and you sit bolt upright in bed. Something has to be done.
You run a hand through your hair, put on a top and some trousers, and take a deep breath before stomping out of your apartment to stand at the door of the apartment to the right. You can still hear him out here.
You thump on the door, four heavy-handed, side-fisted thumps. No answer. You try again, harder and more this time. No answer. You consider going back to your apartment for a pair of boots to try to kick the door (or kick the door in, either way) when it finally swings back.
“Oh,” is what comes out. Your brain has fallen out of your ears.
You hadn’t given much thought to what your neighbour might look like; it certainly hadn’t occurred to you that he might look like that: all tall and dark and handsome, with those huge, brown eyes, and... and... see-through pyjamas. You bite your lip as he looks at you, confused but friendly; you still dimly remember why you had been knocking at his door in the middle of the night but, somehow, you can’t get your mouth to move.
“Are you ok?” he asks, brows creasing in concern. His pink tongue pokes briefly out of his lips as he sucks his lip ring into his mouth and you are transfixed. Your poor brain is scrambling to try to get you to say anything when all your body’s attention is somewhere far south of that. You gulp.
“You are loud,” you say and groan internally at yourself. Get a grip!!! He’s just a man! He’s a man who’s keeping you up! He’s a man you came here to tell off!
Yeah, but he’s a man that looks like that.
Your eyes move from his mouth to his hands, still holding his karaoke mic. Little tattoos on his hand, bigger tattoos moving up his arm, his muscled, well-defined arm. Your heart skips a beat when you imagine that hand around your throat and that beat is taken up with a throb in your core.
“Uh, oh, the karaoke? Is it too loud?”
“Yes,” you answer weakly, your voice disappearing as he scrunches up his nose and ruffles the hair at the back of his head, bashful. You wish you had thought to put on underwear beneath your pyjamas; your nipples are hard, all too visible underneath the pale vest and you can feel your arousal between your legs. You cross one foot in front of the other and squeeze your thighs together.
You’re ashamed of yourself, honestly. You came to tell him to knock it off and put a sock in it and shut the fuck up because some people (clearly not him) have real jobs that require them to get up early in the mornings and use their brains which, in turn, require a good night’s sleep and yet, here you are, a mindless, gawping hole with cum for brains and one, singular thought resounding in your head.
“Oh, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you’d be able to hear it. I guess it is kind of late...”
“Yeah, it’s late,” you say, able only to echo what’s already been said, not daring to say more lest that thought escape out of your mouth while your brain is unavailable.
“I’m sorry, yeah, I’ll turn it down; I’ll try to be quieter next time!” His smile is glorious; he glows and you can only bask in it.
When you don’t leave, he falters.
“Um, do-.. C-… I-… Is there something else?”
Yes, there is, your brain says to you. Yes, I want to put my mouth all over your body. Yes, I want to make you sing my name. Yes, I want to fuck you and make you cum so hard, you actually shut the fuck up. Your eyes rove his body hungrily, unsupervised by your mushy brain, and when you finally meet his gaze, the look on his face is different.
The cute, baby-faced, little cherub is gone and his eyes look darker now. He raises an eyebrow at you and you swallow a whimper.
“Do you want to come in?” he asks.
You don’t respond but he moves backwards and you follow, letting him shut the door behind you. You stand awkwardly as he goes to the kitchen and gets out two shot glasses and a bottle of soju. He opens it, pours the shots and slides one along the counter in your direction.
You’re surprised, a little unsure, but you take it and down it and he refills the glass.
“I’m Jungkook, by the way.” He raises his glass at you and takes another shot.
You tell him your name and drain your glass, moving further into the room. It’s dim, main lights off, a standing lamp in the corner, one on a corner table, and a colourful, swirling lamp casting rainbows across the walls, across Jungkook’s face, across his body... There’s a mattress on the living room floor and it’s incongruent enough that it slightly shakes you from your stupor.
“Does this apartment not have a bedroom?” you ask.
Jungkook giggles, scrunching up his nose again and he sighs.
“It does. I just... also have a mattress in here...”
You don’t ask why. You don’t think you need to.
“It’s not like that,” he says, as if reading your mind. “I just... like to lie down and the sofa isn’t comfortable really, especially if I fall asleep on it. It just- I don’t know, it made sense to me.”
“You’re kind of weird, right?”
He laughs, surprised, and then shrugs.
“I don’t know. I guess. Maybe? Is that bad?”
You shake your head and move closer, putting your empty glass down next to his. He refills them both and this time, you clink them together and he holds your gaze as you sink them.
The soju has rounded your edges and you have completely forgotten your anger, forgotten your anxiety about work, forgotten about everything else outside of these four walls. It’s just you and Jungkook – that guy that you have been ranting and raving about since you moved into this apartment a few weeks ago, that guy you hated, that guy you were going to give what for... that guy with his hand on your arm, that guy moving closer to you, so close you have to tip your head back to see his face.
“Did you really come to complain about the noise?” he asks, his voice quiet and low. His hand moves to your hip, gently fingering the waistband of your trousers.
“Yes,” you whisper back, your mouth dry, adrenaline and alcohol buzzing through your system.
“Is that all?”
His face is so close to yours now; he nudges your nose with his and you can just barely feel his lips hovering over yours. You intend to close your eyes for just a second, just a second to catch your breath, but he whips it from you, closing the minute distance between you, his lips on yours, so soft, so sweet.
Your body responds before your mind has registered what’s happened. One hand rakes through his hair, the other gripping his arm; he pulls your whole body closer, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. He has your bottom lip in his teeth, letting go to slip his tongue into your mouth. He moans and you’re suddenly brought to your senses. You jump back and shake your head.
“No, wait, no! I did actually come here to complain about the noise! That is all! That is all! I didn’t even know who you were or what you looked like when I knocked on the door.”
Jungkook chuckles darkly.
“Yeah that much was pretty clear.”
“What does that mean?”
“I saw your face when I opened the door. Not much good at poker, are you?”
He grins and you want to hate him again but he’s so cute even when he’s being smug and condescending.
“Is this how you get away with it?” you ask. “You just look like that and people let you do whatever you want, is that how it works?”
He looks taken aback, almost offended.
“What do you mean? Get away with what?”
“With this!” You fling an arm out towards the karaoke machine and gesture with the other to the microphone sitting on the kitchen counter. “It’s 2am, Jungkook! On a Wednesday! And you’re screaming into a microphone! Who does that?!”
You’re relieved that your anger is back. He is heady and intoxicating and the anger is refreshing – not to mention that getting dicked down by him will do absolutely nothing to solve the actual problem at hand.
“I didn’t know you could hear it!” He’s raising his voice now, too. “No one has ever complained before!”
“Yeah! Because you look like that!”
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
“It means my brain dribbled out of my ears the second I saw you and I forgot that I fucking hate you-!”
“You can’t hate me! You don’t know me!”
“I know you enough! I know your favourite songs! And I know that I can’t fucking sleep because of you! So, I got out of bed to come over here and tell you to just fucking shut the fuck up, and then you opened the door and you’re so ridiculously good-looking that I forgot! I fucking forgot that I’m livid with you!”
“Well, I can’t help what I look like. It’s not my fault you’re attracted to me.”
“If you were a normal person who didn’t go karaoke in the middle of the night then I may never have met you, so it might not be your fault that you look like that but it’s definitely your fault that I had to find out about it.”
“So, you’d rather have never met me?” He moves closer to you again, looking down at you, licking his lips, catching the bottom one in his teeth. “Really?”
You can’t say yes. You can’t say no. You want him to just take you, to shatter the tension between you and fuck you into next week. You can’t tell him that... Can you?
“I didn’t say that, exactly,” you respond, your voice thick, your heart trapped in your throat.
“Then what are you saying?” His body is close against yours now, his hands on your skin beneath your top, sending sparks flying, a shiver down your spine as he presses his lips to your jaw.
“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook,” you growl. “You can’t just fuck your way out of this.”
“No? Can I at least try?”
He pushes his hips against you and he’s hard. He kisses your neck, licking and sucking, drawing tiny gasping breaths from your reluctant mouth. As one hand moves around and he gently pinches your nipple, you moan.
“Fine, fine,” you answer. “But this had better be really good.”
He pulls back and grins, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Oh I’m not worried about that.”
He slips his hands down and lifts you suddenly, carrying you with apparent ease to the mattress on the floor. Then they’re immediately at the waistband of your trousers, pulling them down your legs, throwing them across the room.
“You’re going to fuck me on the floor? Don’t I deserve better than that?” you ask, resting on your hands.
He looks up at you, his hands on your ankles. He tugs quickly and you fall back with a light squeal. You raise your head and he’s crawling over you, his eyes black.
“I’ll fuck you on the actual floor if you’re not careful,” he warns, voice low and steady, sending a spark straight to your core.
“Is that right?”
You know that he could rip you in half without breaking a sweat but you don’t want to make it easy for him. He chuckles and rolls his eyes, shaking his head so that his hair falls forward and tickles your face.
“Are you always such a brat?”
He takes your jaw in his hand, resting his full weight on the other, and grips it tightly. He considers you for a moment: your pupils wide, mouth open, breathing heavy. Then he loosens his grips, strokes a thumb over your cheek.
“Why don’t you try being a good girl?”
“Fuck you.”
His hand snakes to your neck, wraps around your throat.
“Is this ok?” he asks quietly and you nod fervently.
“Then why don’t you try saying that again.” The difference in his voice sends more arousal pooling at the crux of your legs. He’s commanding, authoritative, in charge. You’re already aching, desperate for him.
“F-”
As you go to speak, his hand squeezes hard on your throat, cutting you off. His eyes bore into yours and he lets go.
“Sorry, what was that?”
As you open your mouth to reply, he squeezes again. You kick your legs and squirm beneath him even after he lets go. He lowers his face to yours and kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
His hand squeezes once more then lets go your throat and travels down your torso. He kneels back and hooks the hem of your vest under his thumbs.
“If you’re a good girl,” he tells you, lifting your top over your head and discarding it, “Then I’ll be good to you...” He presses kisses against your throat and chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue and you can’t stop your hips bucking below him. Releasing you with a pop, he continues. “But if you insist on being a brat...” He kneels up and gives a swift, sharp slap to your pussy. You gasp and his face switches back, cute and open and concerned; he mouths the question ‘are you ok? Is this ok?’ and you nod, nod, nod.
“Yes, yes, please.” Like a doll with a ring-pull in her back, it’s all you can say.
“So tell me,” and it’s authoritative Jungkook back again, “Are you going to be good or are you going to be a brat?”
He sits and waits for your answer, slowing unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes on you. You don’t know the answer. You just know you want him, desperately; the need in your centre is so strong, it’s almost painful; your walls are fluttering, clenching around nothing; arousal almost pouring out of you onto this stupid mattress on the floor. You’re shameless with desire. You’ll do anything, anything to have him inside you.
“I asked you a question. Are you going to be a good girl or are you going to be a brat? Don’t make me ask a third time.” His voice is sharp and he stands to take off his trousers and boxers.
“Fuck,” you gasp when he’s finally naked, his prick standing proud before him. Your mouth waters and your pussy floods at the sight. “Good, good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” The words tumble from your mouth in a rush and you sit up, about to get to your knees when he pushes you back down. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you whisper. “Just please-”
“Please what, princess?” He’s sweet now, indulgent, his lips back on your neck as his fingers trail down your stomach.
“Please touch me.”
“Touch you? Oh, but I am touching you. Look-” He gestures with his free hand to where his other dances his fingers across your stomach. Kneeling, he pulls your legs apart, settling them over his legs, stroking your thighs.
“No,” you whine, rolling your hips as if there is anything there to roll them against. You can feel a bead of sweat roll down your spine as Jungkook hitches you higher, pulling you closer so that you can feel his cock rest against your clit. You whine again but he’s holding you so tight that you can’t move.
“No? No? So you don’t want this?” He presses his thumb into your swollen, throbbing clit and you keen, grasping the blankets in your fists.
“Please, yes, please, that.”
“You like that?” He moves his thumb in slow circles and you think you might explode with need. You’re so wet and so sensitive and your head is swimming as your body tingles all over, as if the surface of your skin is sparkling water, bubbles rising and popping, goosebumps sprinkled from top to bottom.
“Yes, yes- ahh, yes, fuc- yes.. But-”
“But?”
“More. Need more.”
Jungkook sighed and removed his hand.
“No,” you cried, trembling with desire. “Please.”
“That’s right, princess, you ask nicely now.”
“Please, please touch me,” you beg, unravelling with unmet desire. “Please, Jungkook-, hngh-”
His thumb is back and insistent now and you moan as he finally slips two fingers into your wet, aching cunt.
“Fuck, Jungkook!”
“Mm, yeah, I like it when you say my name like that.”
“Jungkook, mm- fuck... Faster.. Please.”
“As you wish.”
Pleasure coils tight inside you as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall. Your walls begin to clench against his fingers and your muscles tighten as he brings you to the edge.
“Please, please, please, please, please, please...” You repeat over and over, your mind barely present, only conscious of your climax, closer and closer, so, so close until Jungkook stops. “What? What?” You look at him, wild-eyed and he grins like snake. “Why?” You sound petulant, you can hear it yourself, but you were so close and you need it so badly.
“You’re just so wet, princess. I don’t think I can go another second without tasting you.”
You expect him to curl forward, shuffle towards the edge of the bed, and bring his mouth to you, but he wraps his arms and around your waist and hoists you upward, bringing your burning core to him. You’re virtually upside-down, his cock pressed against your back. Keeping one arm tight around you, Jungkook slips his other hand under your opposite shoulder making sure you don’t slip, and then he kisses your thighs and your puffy outer lips and he licks the crease of your hip and you’re whining, squirming, his hot breath against you torturous, tantalising.
The blood is rushing to your head and your vision swims as he finally puts his lips where it matters. He licks through your folds and you moan, free and wanton, your breath hitching, voice breaking when he flicks your clit, then seals his lips around it.
“Fuck! Fuck! Ah-.. Jesus- fuck.”
You can barely move as he’s holding you so tightly, so securely as he sucks hard at your tight pearl, as he licks through your folds, as he pushes his tongue inside you, drinking you greedily, hungrily, insatiably. He moans and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re dizzy but you don’t know if it’s being upside down or if it’s being licked and sucked and slurped at as if Jungkook’s life depends on it.
He doesn’t move his mouth from you, moaning and groaning, sending vibrations through your core until you’re light-headed. You’re back on the edge as he sucks at your clit, the soft pad of his tongue rubbing over you; your walls are clenching, your hands are shaking, your thighs trembling as pressure builds. You glance up at him: eyes closed in concentration, brows together frowning into you, tiny hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat.
“Fuck, Jungk-”
Your orgasm takes the rest of his name from your mouth, replacing it with a long, loud whine. Even he can’t stop you squirming as pleasure pours over you. Colours and patterns dance in front of your eyes as your whole body starts to shake, toes curling, legs squeezing Jungkook’s head. But he doesn’t stop, mouth still moving against you, drinking you in like you’re an oasis and he’s been wandering the desert for forty nights.
“Jungkook!” you gasp, fingernails finding his thigh, grasping, digging. “Jungkook!”
He moans in response but doesn’t detach and you think you might die if he keeps going, don’t know if you can take anymore. You feel floppy; you feel drunk; you feel giddy and hysterical. He releases your clit and you gasp, relieved, but he hasn’t finished. He licks through your folds, wanton and in search of more.
“Jungkook, I can’t,” you whine, your voice almost breaking, tears almost pricking in your eyes.
“Be a good girl.” His voice is deep, dark, liquid as he speaks, his lips still touching your skin. It makes you shiver. It makes your empty pussy throb. “Just be a good girl, ok?”
He hoists you up another inch and your head falls between his legs, fully and completely upside-down now. You arch your back against him and his nose bumps your clit, shooting a jolt right through you. His mouth is moving slower now and you’re grateful for the reprieve but then he’s back on your screaming bundle of nerves and, no, that’s you screaming. You screaming his name, screaming yes and screaming nothing comprehensible. You feel feral, no longer human but animal, no longer aware of anything but his mouth and your cunt. Your nails dig into the flesh of his stomach but he merely growls against you, holding you tighter. You feel like you’re trapped in a riptide, rolling and swirling and tumbling, barely breathing, choking on his name in your mouth.
He pulls another orgasm from you, a shuddering, thunderous climax the likes of which you have never before experienced. Everything pulls tight like an overstretched elastic band and then it’s snapped and you’re free-falling, a wailing cry sounding far off in your ears, as if you’re out of your body. Jungkook gently shuffles backwards, lowering you to the mattress, where you lie, panting, your head spinning, every part of you feeling as if you were on another planet. Your body feels heavy and weightless at the same time, limbs like lead somehow floating above you.
He kisses your feet and your ankles and your calves. He kisses your knees and your thighs and your stomach. He kisses the tips of your fingers and the palms of your hands and the crooks of your elbows. He kisses your shoulder and your neck and your ear and your cheek. He wipes the hair from your brow and gently turns your face towards him. His face is swimming in front of you as the blood still slowly levels out in your body.
“Are you ok?” he whispers, those huge, dark eyes bright and shining. The swirling colours of the kaleidoscopic lamp pass over his face and you think you might just be dreaming. He wipes at his lips and his chin, but he’s still sticky and shiny with your arousal all over him. “You ok?” he repeats.
A sound that isn’t a word leaves your lips and you frown and try again.
“Tem-… bu-… uh... Fu-…"
He giggles and kisses your cheek again, pressing his nose against you.
“You want some water?”
You can only nod as you wait for your body to come back into itself, as you wait for your brain to pick itself back up off the floor. When he brings the glass over to you, he has to help you sit up; you lean heavily against him as you gulp down the full glass in one. You gasp as you finish, water trickling down your chin and onto your chest. You lean your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“I... I...” You start but you don’t know what to say.
“Mm? You what?” Jungkook’s hand starts to stray, gently rubbing your side; his mouth connects to your neck again and your head falls to the side. “You were such a good girl,” he purrs and you are thrilled by the praise.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, so, so good for me, princess. Think you’re ready for me now?”
“Oh...”
It’s not that you don’t want it. It’s that you can barely sit upright without leaning against him, your legs all jelly and your spine a column of paper.
“It’s ok, you can say no,” he reminds you, stroking your leg.
“No, no, -”
“That’s ok.”
Jungkook shuffles behind you, laying you against the sofa while your brain strives to catch up.
“No, no, no I mean, no, I don’t mean no I-. No, YES. Yes, I mean yes.” You twist so you’re facing him and press your palms his chest – soft, firm, warm – and push yourself up. “Yes, I mean yes. Please, please fuck me.”
He grins and takes your face in his hands.
“You’re so cute when you beg.”
He kisses you, still so soft, still so sweet. Still so strong: he scoops you up in his arms and lifts you so you’re straddling him, without breaking the kiss. He sucks on your tongue and you moan, your body awakening once more. You slip your hand down and find his cock, hot and hard between your bodies, the tip slick with precum. You twitch at the thought of him inside you as your fingers don’t quite wrap all the way around him. Jungkook moans as you spread the precum around his head, thumb gently bothering the soft underside.
“Fuck, one sec.”
He sets you back down on the mattress and stumbles hastily to another room, returning with a condom in his hand. He rips it open as he kneels back down in front of you and then slips it over his tumescent length.
“You still want this?” he asks, as if the greed and desire weren’t plain in your face.
“God, yes. Please.”
“You’re so needy!” He laughs and presses a firm kiss to your lips. “That’s just how I like you, princess.”
From your kneeling position, he hooks his arms under your thighs, spreading them wide, lifting and pressing you against the edge of the sofa.
“This ok? Comfortable?”
You honestly can’t even tell. All you can feel is the deep, heavy drag of desire in your core, the persistent, empty ache of Jungkook not inside you. You nod, dumbly, and swallow as he runs the head of his cock through your soaked wet folds before pressing into you.
Oh, he’s big. He’s slow and careful as he stretches you out and you whimper, not because it hurts but because it feels so, impossibly good.
“Tell me how it feels,” he commands.
“So big,” you pant. “So good.”
“Tell me if you ne-”
“No, don’t stop.” Your hands grip his shoulders and you look him in the eye. “Do not stop. Please.”
He doesn’t stop until there’s no more left to give and he holds you there, stuffed full. You wait a moment and then another but he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips against him but you’re held fast between the sofa and Jungkook and he is like a statue, unmoving.
“Jungkook?”
You try to catch his eye but he’s looking down at your body with his lip between his teeth.
“Jungkook.”
“What, princess? What do you need?”
He looks at you with a grin and you realise he’s just teasing you, waiting for you to beg some more. You huff and pout and look away, refusing to meet his eye again. You cross your arms over your chest.
“Uh oh,” he says, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. “Uh oh, is my good girl sulking? Have I spoilt you, princess? Given you too much of what you want already?” He grips your hair tightly and pulls your head back. “Have I created a brat out of you?”
“No,” you reply, still petulant and pouting.
“No? Then where’s my smile? Where’s my ‘please’?”
You look at him, bottom lip still jutting, and he raises his eyebrows.
“Oh, that’s a real shame...” He starts to pull out of you, as slowly as he went in and you bite the inside of your lip to keep quiet. “I was really looking forward to fucking you, but we don’t reward bratty behaviour in this house...” As his tip reached your entrance, you grabbed his arms, no longer pouting, your eyes pleading. “Hm?” he asked. “What’s that?”
You growled and rolled your eyes and dropped your head back, taking a deep breath before snapping it back.
“Please,” you spit but Jungkook shakes his head and falls from you.
“No, no, that’s not how we ask nicely, is it?”
He drops you and you flop onto the mattress but before you can react, he’s lifting you up again, turning you around, bending you over the sofa. He presses himself against you and the two of you moan in unison. Then he smacks you hard on your right glute and you gasp.
“You ok?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what you get for being a brat.” He smacks you hard again in the same spot and you whimper. He licks over the sting and cracks you on the other side.
“Jesus!” you exclaim.
“Too much?”
“No, no, keep going.”
Another smack.
“Keep going what?”
“Keep going, Jungkook.”
And another.
“Keep going what?”
Seconds pass in tense, exhilarating silence. Your heart skips in your chest at the thrill of it, of denying him what he wants, of what he might do in return. As the seconds tick by, another and another and another, Jungkook’s hand sneaks around in front and he grabs your clit sharply and twists.
“Oh Jesus, fuck!” you cry, your head dropping onto the sofa.
Jungkook’s lips are back at your ear.
“Is it too much?” His voice is so gentle and the contrast makes you laugh.
“No, no, it’s not.”
“Ok, you say when, though ok?”
You nod and he kisses the shell of your ear.
“Please, keep going,” you say and he laughs.
“See? So, you do know how to ask nicely, eh?” He leaves a trail of kisses down your spine and rolls his hips, his dick sliding through your wet folds so that you moan. “Come on, then, princess, enough being bratty. Ask nicely for what you want.”
But you don’t want to ask nicely. Not anymore. You push your hips back against him and his hands come down, squeezing them tightly, fingers pressing hard into the skin, the muscle.
“Just fuck me, Jungkook,” you growl.
“Eh?”
You turn your head to look at him, dark, determined.
“I said, just fuck me.”
He smirked and sucked his teeth with a shake of his head.
“What a rotten princess you are, so spoilt, so quickly.”
He bends down and takes a hard bite of your bum cheek. He doesn’t let go, his teeth sinking deeper into your soft flesh as you whimper. You whimper even as fresh arousal pools inside you and your walls flutter. They flutter around nothing as you try to push back or wiggle your hips or get him to move. You hear him growl, your skin still between his teeth, and then he drops you and licks broadly over the clear, dark indentations.
“Jungkook,” you whisper.
“Yes?”
You don’t want to beg but you are desperate for him back inside you. He can bite you and smack you and god knows what else but you need him to fuck you. You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles sweetly at you, expectantly. He plays with your folds and toys with his dick at your entrance, just waiting. You wish you could hold back the moan in your throat, wish you could stop your core clenching, wish you could just get him to fuck you.
“Come on, princess,” he says, his voice quiet, encouraging, even kind. “You can tell me...”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, I know that,” he laughs, running a hand up to your hair, tangling it there and then tugging backwards, lifting you off the sofa by it so your head rests against his collarbone. “And I,” he growls, letting your hair go and running a soft hand across your breasts, “just want you to ask nicely,” his voice sweet and soft again. These switches are giving you whiplash and you don’t know which Jungkook you want more. Any will do, you think, but then your cunt throbs at the thought of your flesh in his teeth and your resolve hardens.
“I won’t,” you say through gritted teeth.
“You won’t?” He moves backwards and your bodies are no longer touching. He continues to move and the space between you grows, causing you to shiver without the heat of him there. He sighs dramatically. “This is very disappointing. Turn around.”
You do as you’re told without a second thought and when you’re facing him, he’s kneeling and grinning at you.
“What am I going to do with you?” he muses, an evil twinkle in his eye that you are sure is not just the swirling colours of the lamp. He reaches out towards a side table and your eyes widen when you see what’s in his hand. He turns his back to you briefly, pressing buttons on a small remote. You can’t believe your ears when music fills the room and Jungkook brings the mic to his mouth.
this may be confusing to some who haven't read quality time! go read that and then come back to get the full story!
➳ pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader (f)
➳ genre: established relationship, a little angst, mostly fluff
➳ warnings: mentions of sex but no sex ygm?
➳ wc: 1.8k
➳ author's notes: SO many people were commenting about jungkook being away for five hours...and i couldn't take it any longer....so this is what he did.
➳ summary: "Had Jungkook really been out for five hours?" yes, he had. and this is what he had been doing.
-
HOUR ONE
As soon as Jungkook banged the front door shut, he wanted to run back in and talk this out. He hated the idea of leaving a fight to sit, the thought of you being upset at him eating away at his soul.
But he knew you needed time. He knew he needed time. And so he decided to stay away for a while.
Getting into his car and slamming the door shut, he sat there for a while. Your words echoed in his head over and over. Had it really been that long since you guys spent time together? Now that Jungkook thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time you guys cooked together, couldn’t remember the last time you guys snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. Had it really been that long since he touched you?
Sighing angrily, Jungkook turned the key and started to drive. Where he was going, he had no idea but he needed to get away and think. Before he fucked up anymore.
Jungkook drove for a whole hour. Until he found the park. The park where you first met.
-
HOUR TWO
“Namjoon, I don’t care if she liked me.” Jungkook groaned down the phone “She wasn’t my type, there was no connection whatsoever! Set her up with Jimin or something! He’s single!”
A park bench was not the time to have this kind of conversation. Jungkook needed Taehyung to hurry up so he could cut this stupid conversation short.
Never again was he letting Namjoon set him up on a date again.
It’s not that the girl wasn’t nice. She was lovely and obviously had a good heart. Jungkook just…didn’t feel it. It wasn't the destiny he was looking for. It didn’t feel right.
Explaining that to Namjoon however, was harder than explaining college-level physics to a five-year-old.
“Joon, I’m not saying she WASN’T pretty! I just-”
Jungkook was interrupted by a loud cry. Abruptly, his head turned towards the sound, being met with a figure on the concrete floor. He straight away saw that you had hurt yourself, blood dripping from your elbow.
“I’ll call you back.” he ended the call quickly and jogged over to you.
“Are you okay? What just happened?” Offering you a hand, he hoisted you up so that you were now on your feet. Getting to see your face at last, his breath hitched. Jungkook had never seen beauty like yours before. Even with your face a little scrunched from the pain of your arm, you still looked angelic.
“Oh, I’m good!” You chuckled lightly, looking down at the blood dripping down from your elbow. “It’s just me being clumsy again, as usual! This is so embarrassing..”
“No no, don’t be embarrassed! Here come sit, you’re bleeding.” He led you over to the bench he was sitting at before. “I’m Jungkook by the way.”
“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you! Well, as nice as this situation gets.”
“Do you have any plasters on you, Miss clumsy?” Jungkook flirted. You laughed, looking up at him and rolling your eyes before digging through your bag.
“I might do…..uhhhh…yeah! Here’s one!” You pulled out a thin strip of plaster and went to remove the plastic. Jungkook intervened.
“Here, let me.” He took the plaster and gently placed it on your cut. You winced faintly but sighed soon after as he finished neatening up the patch. “All done, you’re good to go!”
“Ah, thank you so much! I’m sorry if I bothered you. You seemed like you were in the middle of an important phone call.”
“Pfft, no no don’t worry. I was trying to get away.” Jungkook smiled “You kinda saved my ass so I had to return the favour.”
Nodding politely, you got up to leave “Well, I best be on my way. Thank you so much again. Kind of glad it was you who-”
Suddenly you were interrupted by a booming voice coming from down the path.
“JUNGKOOK YOU ALREADY KNOW I’M GONNA BEAT YOU ON OUR RUN TODAY, AND NO CHEATING THIS TIME!”
Jungkook sighed, murmuring under his breath “Taehyung…”
“That sound’s like my cue to leave!” You laughed “See you!”
You walked away as Taehyung finally caught up to where Jungkook was still standing.
“Who was that? Do you have a secret girlfriend I don’t know about Kookieee?” Taehyung teased, slapping him on the back while Jungkook stood there, still staring at your walking figure as you rounded the corner.
“H-huh? No, she was just…a girl.” He mumbled. Taehyung chuckled at his dumbfounded expression, putting a foot on the bench to tie his shoe.
“Well, lighten up. I hope this isn’t an excuse to get out of this run just because you’re scared I’ll beat you-.” He got up and looked around back at Jungkook. But was met with a space.
Because Jungkook wasn’t there. Jungkook was halfway down the path, running in the direction you had gone.
He had to get your number. He KNEW you were different. And he wasn’t losing that.
To cut a long story short, he got your number.
-
HOUR THREE
Jungkook was interrupted in his daydream by the loud ringtone of his phone. Quickly hauling it out of his pocket, he was met with Taheyung’s picture.
“Hello?” He answered glumly.
“Wow, you sound miserable! What’s up with you?”
Jungkook sighed angrily “Y/n and I got in a fight. So I’ve gone out for a bit.”
“What did you do this time? Come one, let me hear it.” Jungkook heard Taehyung sit, indicating he should start his story right away.
After he finished telling the story, Jungkook was met with silence. “Hello? Tae? You still there?”
“Oh, I’m still here. I just wanted you to sit with what you just told me for a few seconds because WOW you can be so stupid sometimes.”
Jungkook groaned “Can you not make me feel more guilty than I already do?”
“Look, both of you need to chill before you talk to each other. Maybe go get something to eat and chill for a bit more. We can meet another day.”
“Yeah, no shit. Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye Kookiee!” Taehyung sang as Jungkook hit the red button.
At the mention of food, he realised how hungry he was. Walking back to his car, he craved a certain type of food. Although it was some way away, he knew he HAD to go.
And so off he went.
-
HOUR FOUR
The coffee shop. Not the most extravagant place to have your first date but, with Jungkook, it seemed like a perfect setting to fall in love. And that was what was happening. Both your guy’s pastries were long forgotten as you both talked and talked for hours on end.
“You seem like such a muffin girl,” Jungkook said, laughing to himself.
“What the heck does that mean?” You gasped, mocking your offensive and putting a hand to your chest. “Muffins are good, it's a coffee shop delicacy!”
Jungkook laughed harder “I know muffins are popular but I didn’t think people actually ATE the blueberry ones! The chocolate chip ones are right there!”
You pushed him lightly, chuckling to yourself “That’s so mean! I happen to like my blueberry muffins and if you don’t like that then there’s the door!”
“Come onnn, you know I'm kidding. I think it’s adorable that you’re weird like that.”
“Thank you!” You exclaimed and took a bite of your muffin “.....Wait… WEIRD?”
-
“Sir…Hello?” Jungkook was immediately pulled out of his daydream by the server at the till. “Your order is ready!”
Embarrassed, he mumbled a quick thank you before taking his cinnamon bun (the blueberry muffin he bought for you to eat later) and going to find a seat.
The cafe was not as empty as he thought it would be, considering the hour that he was there. There was a businessman on the phone in the corner near the window, a teenage couple laughing at each other's phone on the couch side and then a woman and her baby sat on a table.
Jungkook decided to sit nearer to the woman. She smiled at him as he sat, rocking the sleeping baby in her arms. In a sleepy state, the baby dropped the toy and landed right near Jungkook’s feet.
“Excuse me, ma’am, your baby dropped this.” He said lowly to not make up the peaceful infant.
“Oh gosh! Thank you! Silly girl, always dropping things and then crying when he loses it!” The mother took the toy and smiled sweetly. “If only my husband were this attentive.” She motioned towards the businessman on the phone. “He would have never spotted that even if it was flying right at his face!”
Jungkook gulped. Is this what Y/n feels like all the time? A partner that’s distracted and away even when he’s with her?
At that moment he realised he had to go home.
He had to be with you and tell you that he was a fool.
He had to tell you how much he loves you.
-
HOUR FIVE
“Well thank you for walking me home.” you stopped at your front door. “You don’t have to do it every date though! I’m perfectly fine walking back alone!”
“No way, I’d never let my lady walk back by herself in the dark. That’s not how the Jeons role!”
You froze. He’d never called you that before.
“Y-your lady?” you stuttered. The recognition of the nickname made Jungkook freeze too.
“Oh, uh. I didn’t mean MY lady as in, you’re my property because you’re a strong, independent woman and no one could ever own you I just meant that-”
Your laughter interrupted his rambling “Kook….are you trying to make this official?”
“Uh, I think so. I mean…fuck…I want to. I'm trying to I mean.”
You walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Then I’m officially yours, Kook.”
-
Your old apartment door raced past Jungkook as he sped back to you. The different memories of your relationship filled his mind. Memories of your first kiss and the feeling he had walking home afterwards. The first time you were introduced to his friends. How Taehyung immediately recognised you from the park. The first time you guys got intimate with each other, the image of your face as he entered you played over and over again in his mind.
He knew from the bottom of his heart that you were the one for him. He wanted to marry you one day, wanted to someday start a family with you. No matter what, he wanted to grow old with YOU. and just you. Nobody else.
But he needed to fix things in the here and now. No way would he end up like the guy from the coffee shop. He wanted to be with you at all times. He was just too stupid to realise what had become of the relationship.
Pulling up outside the apartment complex, he knew he had one chance to make this right.
He wasn’t gonna fuck up this time.
-
please let me know what you think! let me know also if you would like to be on a taglist for any future work i may post! ily!
➬ Summary | Even in the mornings, it is always hard to resist him. His presence alone captivates you, yet there is something else that always catches your eyes, drawing you to touch him. Not so surprisingly, he shares the same sentiment, though he has his own way of showing it to you. And neither of you mind it when things escalate further into something else that is not quite so innocent.
➥ Pairings | Tattooed boyfriend!Jungkook x Tattooed!reader
➥ Genre | PWP, Smut, Established Relationship au
➥ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; explicit sexual scenes, kissing, body (and tattoos) worshipping, sexual stimulation, teasing, edging, begging, hair pulling (Jungkook and his long hair), dirty talk, swearing, breast play, nipple play, nipple biting, biting, biting kink, clit play, fingering (vaginal/female receiver), oral sex (female receiver), hand job, morning sex, overstimulation, orgasm delay, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, post-sex cuddling, aftercare
➥ Word count | 5,9k words
➥ Author/Posting date | @yoonia / Nov 17th, 2022
➥ Masterlist
➥ Author’s note | I have no idea where this came from. This Jungkook just came to me while I was in the middle of writing In Motion and I just had to write it down before it would drive me crazy. Actually, I blame @hisunshiine for this. All thanks to that incriminating tweet that you shared.
If you could list out all the things that you love the most about being with Jungkook, then you would definitely put small moments like this one right on the very top.
⇿ Warnings - fingering, squirting, slight breast play, Jungkook has jokes, oral (female receiving.)
❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎♋︎♡⚡︎☽☹︎➂❣︎✰ ❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎♋︎♡⚡︎☽☹︎➂❣︎✰❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎
“I’m bout to drop the pin to the location to my place.”
“📍” It was code for “I’m horny.” Only you and Jungkook knew it and were allowed to use it in emergency situations. So as you found yourself laying in your bed at 2 am, lonely, sad and horny you thought that now was the most appropriate time to send off that save me text. After about ten minutes of waiting you hear his car pull in your driveway. A small smile appears on your face as you hear him putting in the pin to open the door. He didn’t need to yell for you because he already knew where you were. You sat back and listened to his footsteps get closer until your door opened to reveal Jungkook behind it. “That kind of night huh?” He smirks as he removes his shirt. “I didn’t think you would mind.” You say shyly. You always felt bad when you texted the code word because Jungkook would always drop everything he was doing no matter what time it was. “I don’t.” He reassures you, climbing in bed next to you. “I wouldn’t have came if I did.” He says.
His hand finds it’s way to your leg rubbing up your thigh until his hand meets your panty less center beneath the loose t-shirt you had on. “You were prepared, yeah?” He teases. “Course I was… I always am when I hit your line,” was your response. The shit eating grin that appeared on Jungkooks face tells you he appreciated the fact that you actually took the time preparing for his arrival. “Lay back, baby girl,” he demands with a gentle push to your shoulder. Your body instantly relaxes into the mattress, hands instantly finding his hair and tangling into his curls like a web as soon as he dives his head towards your center. “Damn, baby, you’re soaked,” he says with surprise. You can’t help but smile as you look down at him. “I really hope you can swim,” you say with a wink. Jungkook smirks, pushing your legs upwards before pinning them down with the force of his veiny hands. “I’ll have you know I placed first on my schools swim team. If anybody can backstroke this shit it’s me!” He says proudly before diving in.
His tongue licking the first stripe up your clit from your dripping pussy. Jungkook could have swore he never saw your back arch as much as it did. “Don’t break your back, hunny that’s my job,” you could feel his smirk between your thighs which only turned you on more if that was humanly possible at this point. “Fuck you, Jeon,” you roll the eyes that were already in the back of your head. Jungkook never skips a beat. His fingertips were doing a mean job digging into the skin of you thighs as his tongue concentrated on the random shapes he was making on your clit. “Lift your shirt up,” he demands. Now, normally he would be the one removing any clothing off your body, but giving the fact he was tongue deep inside your pussy at this very second he needed some kind of assistance unless he wanted to stop for two fifths of a second… and you both know neither of you wanted that to happen!
Once your white t-shirt was lifted above your breast, your hands gripped both of them. You could say it was out of habit, but you knew Jungkook enjoyed it when you played with your boobs. “That’s right, baby girl, play with your titties for me,” as if the pleasure couldn’t have got more intense leave it up to you to change that by playing with your titties. “Fuck me, Kook it feels so good!” You moaned. Head moving side to side as you make a pitiful attempt in moving your legs. “Don’t fucking run away from me,” Jungkook says with gritted teeth as his grip around your thighs becomes tighter. He begins making slurping sounds as his lips wrap around your clit. The vibrations from his mouth making it harder and harder for you not to come undone. “Kook… so close,” you warn, lower lip bitten as you grip your breasts harder. Jungkook releases your right leg so he can enter two of his tattooed fingers inside of your dripping pussy. “God,” Jungkook groaned as you sucked his fingers inside without any hesitation. He scissors them in fastly as he watches your liquids coat his tatted digits.
“Oh, God, baby… fuck right there!” You yell. Your hands now on the side of you fisting the sheets as Jungkook finds himself hovering over you. “Gonna make a mess for me?” His words edging you along further as his fingers hit that certain spot inside you. “C-coming… I-I’m coming,” your legs come up to wrap around his waist, but Jungkook pins them back down as you squirt around his fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he groans. His fingers stilled deep inside you as your juices gush out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, legs shaking profusely beneath him as your lay in the aftermath of the climax Jungkook brought to you. His wet fingers swipe up your clit before making their way to his mouth for a final “taste test.” After sucking off every digit like his life depended on it, Jungkook brought his hands to your hip bones massaging all the way down to your legs and up your thighs. He repeated that motion until the shaking was under control. “You ok, love?” He asked. You looked up at him and smiled softly.
I mean, I don’t know if anyone ever noticed this comparison, but when I saw the pink and blue from Jimin and V this is immediately what I thought of 😂💗💙
