Here is where I give all my favorite authors love for their hard work and creative genius! Kpop Fic Recs (18+) • Mainly BTS content Fic Rec Index • Main Blog
For your drabble reqs - I’ve been sitting on this for a hot hot hot second because imagining jimin’s crotch grinding on my ass and what could follow is turning me feral -
on your first date with shy Park Jimin, you both drink more than anticipated to take the edge off and end up getting a little too touchy feely on the dance floor.
☺️
MALLORYYYYYYY thank u for this lovely lovely req 🙆♀️ this was the perfect thing to shake the rust off!!! i hope you enjoy this one 💌
~taking jihope drabble requests all month!!~
pairing: jimin x reader
wordcount: 1k exactly mmmm satisfying
contains: alcohol use, first date, reader and jimin are a lil sloshed, horny thots are thunk, grinding on the dancefloor, jimin calls himself a slut lmao, jimin playing with her panties through her dress and getting hard, sooooo it's kinda semi-public i guess, mentions of begging and sub!jimin, going home on the first date..... think that's it!
~*~
Your drinks catch up to you on the dancefloor, all at once.
You’ve thrown them back like water tonight, faster than you normally would on a first date. But the man who’s sat across from you all night is intimidatingly gorgeous, not to mention sweet and soft-spoken and full of endearing little habits, like the way he pouted down into his own glass as he lifted it for a sip only to realize he’d already finished it.
Then he’d glanced up again as the empty glass tapped back down onto the table between you, his eyes just barely narrowing in a way that somehow managed to change his entire expression– made your stomach do a little backflip, too.
His voice was spun silk when he asked the question, dripped in something not quite innocent.
“Do you want to dance?”
What you hadn’t accounted for when you’d nodded your agreement and tried to will the flush of heat out of your face was the fact that dancing would mean getting even closer to Jimin. Dancing means his hands cupping the curve of your hips, warm through the thin fabric of your dress. You also hadn’t accounted for the way your liquor-soaked brain would take that spark and run a marathon with it, imagining those hands tangling in your hair, circling the buds of your breasts, slipping up your skirt.
There’s a steady pulse thudding in your core, in time to your heart and the bass of the speakers, and you swear the beat skips every time the flashing lights catch on an edge of Jimin: the full lines of his lips, the hoops sparkling diamond-bright at the corners of his jaw, the flicker of his lashes over the soft color bloom in his cheeks.
It’s too much. The space between your thighs aches, begging to be filled, and so you let your body lead. The room spins a little; you turn with it, Jimin’s hands fluttering at your waist.
You don’t know who initiates it– if you pressed back, if he pulled you in, or if the draw is all magnetism– but the space between your bodies narrows and then disappears. Your hips slot together, easy.
Something tells you the alcohol’s not to blame for the headrush buzz that hits you at the warmth of Jimin’s body under yours. The colors of the club smear together on the backs of your eyelids, and your lips part for a breath in when you feel his hips roll into yours like he knows what he’s doing.
And then his soft voice paints heat up the slope of your neck, and your eyes blink open again. “Can I tell you something?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter on your next exhale. The motion of his hips is steady now, a deliberate grind against the swell of your ass, a riptide threatening to drag you under. You make no attempts at resisting.
“I’m kind of a lightweight,” he admits, and you can hear that it’s true, his words sliding into each other. You can’t help your giggle, partially because you weren’t expecting his confession, and partially because, well– you’re feeling it too.
“That’s okay.” You do your best to reassure, speaking up to carry over the pulse of the music. “Me too, I think.”
“Can I tell you something else?”
Jimin’s voice sinks low into his chest when he asks the question, and the rumble of it vibrates through you like the thrum of a plucked string, underscored by his hips still rocking into yours. You drag your teeth over your bottom lip before you answer.
“Uh-huh.”
His nose grazes the line of your jaw, and you can hear the shy smile in his words when he speaks again.
“I’m also kind of a slut.”
Your breath hitches in your chest and you wonder if Jimin feels it. It’s so dark, your bodies pressed flush– it’s hard to keep up with where you end, where he begins, his tight black t-shirt and jeans blurring at the edges of your little black dress.
“That’s more than okay,” you finally manage, and you feel him dig just a little deeper into where he has you, gripping tighter at the line of your waist, as if making a promise of what’s to come.
“Yeah?” Jimin purrs.
You let your body answer him, let your hands slip over his to guide them lower, a slow tease. It’s easier to ask without words, your head dropped back against his shoulder, his fingertips seeking out the v-line of your panties through your dress, tracing the lace edge.
There’s no question that the crotch of his jeans has filled out now; you can feel him straining against denim, an insistent bulge at the curve of your ass. When you roll your hips in a circle, it earns a soft moan in your ear, one you could easily return at the wet drag of your thong when Jimin tugs at the fabric, rubbing a taste of friction just right over your clit. It lights your body up, a live fucking wire, and you need more than what you can get away with on this dancefloor.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” you murmur up to the ceiling.
Jimin’s mouth is hot when he presses a tongue-first kiss to the hinge of your jaw, then takes your earlobe between his teeth before answering. “Your body is driving me crazy. Wanna… fucking beg for it.”
“Shit,” you can’t help groaning, reaching a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel him stiffen all over when you tug a little, swear his dick even jumps in his pants. “I’d love to see you down on your knees, Jimin.”
“I’ll be so good for you,” he outright whines, and you tighten your grip, arching your back to better rut yourself against him.
There’s only one question left to ask, it seems, and you can’t wait a second longer.
Stumbling across this spicy little drabble first thing in the morning is a blessing and a curse. I won’t be able to think for the rest of the day but I can’t find it in me to be upset about that. This Jimin is so hot it melted my brain 🫠
Let's continue practicing this angst muscle of yours:
Stealing your wicked stepmother's booty call
As for member? I have my obvious preference but I'll let you choose
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: smut, maybe a smidge of angst?, Pool Boy!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, reader is plotting against her stepmom, infidelity (not involving reader), mistaken identities, cherry-haired Jimin, implied smut, Jimin's nickname is pretty self-explanatory 💦🍆🥴
Word Count: 1.5K
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: You're tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father's money. So you steal one of her toys.
A/N: Luce, I'm sorry this took so long! 💜 I hope you like what I dreamt up here. I still have a few more requests waiting for inspiration - y'all are so patient, I can't thank you enough 💕
"YN, darling, pass me the suntan lotion, will you?"
Your lips instinctively curl themselves into a sneer as the sound of your stepmom's voice cuts into your poolside slumber. Opening your eyes beneath your oversized sunglasses, you tilt your head to find her lying in the chair next to you, hand extended expectantly.
You watch as she slowly applies the thick cream to her smooth skin, noting that you're not her only audience. Her movements have drawn the attention of the young man skimming the corner of the pool. His fingers tighten around the thin pole in his hands, eyes focused firmly on your stepmom's statuesque legs.
Interesting. Although Jimin was one of your classmates at university, you only knew him from his weekly visits to your father's house to clean the Olympic-sized pool where you were currently spending your summer break melding with the lounge chair. He never said more than the occasional hello and goodbye, was always polite and quiet. You thought he was incredibly cute, with his cherry red hair and gorgeous smile, but he kept to himself so you kept your distance.
So you're more than a little surprised to see such a hungry expression in his eyes as you observe him staring at your stepmom. Then he catches you looking, and quickly turns away.
You suppose you can't entirely blame him. Your stepmom is only a few years older than you and absolutely stunning. She's also a horrible, manipulative bitch who managed to sink her 30 mm stiletto fingernails directly into your father's heart and bank account.
For three years now, you've watched this woman slowly drain your inheritance away. Your father turns a blind eye to her exorbitant spending, probably because she's using her cunning wiles to keep a tight chokehold grip on his wallet. Among other things.
Your nap effectively ruined, you head into the house to grab a drink. There's a designer purse sitting on the kitchen island, your stepmom's latest purchase, and a brief rush of spite washes over you. Impetuously, you knock it over, spilling its contents all over the countertop. It's a very childish thing to do, but any chance you get to annoy the obnoxious gold digger, you take eagerly.
You wish there were something else you could do to show her just how much you hate her. Something more effective than simply knocking her things about. Like taking away one of her expensive toys. But it'd have to be something that wouldn't get you in trouble with your father. As much as you question his choices, you still love him dearly, and don't want to risk your relationship in the name of petty satisfaction.
There are some fresh cherries in the fridge, so you plop down on one of the couches in the open-concept living room to have a snack. It's not long before Jimin passes right by your perch as he heads home for the day. He doesn't seem to notice you, but it's easy to miss someone in this gigantic house if they're quiet. You just blend into the background.
He has his phone in hand and as he approaches the front door, his steps slow while his fingers fly over the screen. Then he finishes whatever he was doing and slips the phone back into his pocket before letting himself out.
From the messy pile on the kitchen island, your stepmom's phone buzzes.
You only pause for the smallest fraction of a second before leaping up to look at the phone. The screen is already dark, but you know your stepmom's code - her precious toy poodle's birthday - so you tap it in, and read the text messages waiting there:
You gotta stop teasing me when I'm working. I wanna rub you down like that
Can I come over later?
I need you tonight
There's just a nickname attached to the phone number, with a string of emojis - Super Soaker 💦🍆🥴 - but you're sure you know who is on the other end. And it's definitely not your father.
Your stepmom floats into the house. She spots your half-eaten bowl of cherries on the living room table. "YN, darling, please don't leave food just lying around like this! That's how you gets ants." She sighs heavily, as if her cushy life of doing nothing all day is exhausting. "I'm not your maid, you know? Or your mother."
"Believe me, I know," you mutter under your breath before nodding. "Okay."
"Thank you, darling. Oh, and before I forget, your father and I have plans with the Mins tonight, so we will be out very late! You'll be on your own for dinner."
"Okay," you repeat. "I'll just order something."
The look she gives you makes you grit your teeth. "Your father isn't made of money, YN." Unbelievable. How can she utter such phrases without a trace of irony? "I'm sure you can find something here to make for yourself for dinner. But please, try to keep the place clean! I don't want to come home to a messy house." And with a dismissive wave of her hand, she disappears towards the master bedroom.
That cheating brat. You want to take away her toys.
Your fingertips dance over her phone.
Be here at 8. I'll leave the door unlocked.
The response is immediate:
Can't wait, baby
You hear your stepmom's footsteps returning and quickly delete the messages before locking the phone and vanishing towards your room.
At eight, you resume your spot on the couch. Only you've traded your swimsuit for a satin robe, wrapped tightly around your body as you wait.
You don't have to wait long. The front door opens and a moment later, Jimin appears. When he sees you, he freezes, eyes widening under raised brows. No poker face.
"Hey… YN," he speaks slowly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out what to say.
"Hi Jimin," you reply lightly. "I didn't hear you knock."
"Oh, uh, the door was open so I just… walked in…" he pauses, "I think I left my earbuds here so I came to… check."
"Jimin." You smile sweetly. Luring him in with honey. "It's ok. I know."
He feigns confusion. "You know what?"
You motion for him to join you on the couch. Jimin crosses the room carefully, like a wild animal waiting for a trap to spring. He sits next to you, running his palms over his tight jeans, wiping away the sweat. His tanned skin seems to glow against the white of his tank top, and as he fidgets, his biceps flex gently.
"Be here at 8. I'll leave the door unlocked," you say as an answer to his question.
His eyebrows rise again. "That was you?" He huffs out a breath. "Fuck."
"That was me. Listen - "
"Please don't tell your father!" Jimin interjects, panic twisting his features. "I - I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have… but she said… I mean… I really need this job! And if he - "
"Honestly, if my dad finds out…" you wind the silky belt of your robe around your fingers, shrugging. "I think the job will be the least of your worries."
Jimin looks like he might get sick all over your stepmom's pricey couch. "Oh god. What do I do?" He pauses as the reality of the situation sinks in. Then his eyes narrow as he tips his head towards you, considering. "You… if you wanted me to know that you know, you could've just told me. Why did you send me that message, pretending to be her?"
You smirk, shifting to curl your legs beneath you. Jimin's eyes travel over your frame as you move, drinking in the flimsy material that hugs your curves while leaving large swaths of your skin bare. He swallows audibly, and your smirk deepens.
"Why do you think, Jimin? I want something."
He frowns. "Look, I don't have a lot of money, but I can pay - "
"Keep your money." You gesture around you. "I don't need it."
He meets your gaze again, with darkened eyes. "Then what do you want, YN?"
A wave of heat rolls through you. The hunger you'd seen earlier is back in his expression. Again you shift, shuffling closer to him until your knees brush his thigh, the thick muscle twitching at the contact.
"I want you to stop seeing her. Stop answering her texts, stop meeting up with her. End it completely, or I tell my father." You smile, running your fingers over his forearm. "He'll believe me. I never lie to him."
Jimin stares at your hand for a moment before placing his own on top. His touch is so warm. "And is that… everything you want?" His eyes flicker to yours.
You bite your lip. "Do you know what she calls you? In her phone?"
Jimin laughs, glancing away. "Yeah. Super soaker." He rubs the back of his neck.
"Mmmhmm." You pull your hand away. Rising up on your knees, you let your robe fall open, revealing the lacy black bra and panties you're wearing beneath.
Jimin lets out a tiny exhale. "Shit."
"I want to know where that name comes from," you declare, robe slipping off your shoulders. "Will you show me?"
warnings: some language, so much kissing, ppl definitely getting turned on and then talking about it and feeling it, reader is implied larger than felix, some self-pity, i think that’s it?
a/n: so, this kinda feels like it’s set in the same world as ‘i adore you’ and with the familiar motif of a sofa as our main location. don’t ask me why this is a thing. it happens to be a thing. big thank you to @jl-micasea-fics for beta-ing this, @seokjinger-ale and @hannahbee12719 for reading it. i hope it’s enjoyable to you, dear reader.
masterlist
——–
“I’m sorry.”
Felix lets out a sigh in such a way that his fringe flutters from it. You want to comment on it, just that his hair is getting so long, but you know that it’ll take your thoughts down a dangerous path.
You know better. You’ve been avoiding that path for awhile now.
“I told you,” he says softly. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“But I do,” you reply, your hands lifting up from your lap to emphasize whatever words pour forth. “I have to apologize because if I was listening to myself as a friend, I would be tired of this topic too.” You search out for something to grab in the air in front of you. But there’s nothing. Maybe you need to steal (borrow) a plushie from Felix’s collection on the window seat in his bedroom.
You and Felix often hang out at the apartment he shares with Seungmin and Changbin. Your place is smaller, and unless he wants to curl up on your twin bed with you, to watch something on your five-year-old laptop…
This is so sweet and sexy and real and wonderful! Your special talent is making situations realistic without even coming close to killing the mood and I am in absolute awe of that.
Oooo the tension and the build up in this is so good! I adore oblivious friends to lovers. They’re so sweet and adorably awkward with each other and I love it. I, too, want to kiss every single one of Felix’s freckles and stare into his beautiful big brown eyes while he tells me he’s been pining for me for ages. What a dream!
Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, Jin in another suit, a little ass grabbing, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), use of sex toys, nipple pinching, dirty talk, Jungkook's filthy mouth goes from 0 to 100 real quick, god bless technology
Word Count: 8.3k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!
A/N: Thank you to @minttangerines and @miscelunaaa for helping me with this one when I got a little stuck! And @bangtanintotheroom for providing some much-needed musical inspiration. I might need to start a Paradise playlist, huh? 🤔
Unbeta’d as usual. Please let me know what you think, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕
Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter
You need a new job.
The thought has been plaguing you for weeks. It hits you again for the 875th time on Monday afternoon, working on yet another project dumped into your lap mere days from deadline thanks to an incompetent coworker. These last minute assignments just keep popping up like whack-a-moles lately, and you’re getting really tired of always being the only one who can smack them into submission. Stretching, you close your laptop and decide to take a walk downtown to grab some lunch and try to clear your head a little.
Lost in a reverie picturing taking an actual whack-a-mole mallet to your waiting work assignments, you don’t realize that someone sat down next to you at the counter until a tattooed hand gently taps the top of your menu.
“If you’re looking for a recommendation, jjajangmyeon’s always a solid choice. Can’t go wrong with a classic.”
The corners of your lips automatically tug upwards at the sound of his voice. Lowering your menu, you smile. “Hey, Jungkook.”
“Hey.” He’s wearing a white tee and grey sweats, a black beanie shoved on his head, the tips of his long dark hair sticking out as he grins back at you. If you didn’t already know his alarm clock so well, the yawn he fails to stifle and the slight puffiness to his eyes would’ve let you know he just rolled out of his bed.
Was it really just yesterday you’d woken up in that same bed?
A server approaches and orders are taken. You do go for the jjajangmyeon. So does Jungkook, along with several other meals. After the server drifts away, you drum your fingers on the counter, still slightly vexed about work, though your anger ebbs away the longer you glance at Jungkook.
“I’m going to meet up with Taehyung and Jimin,” he announces suddenly. “I’m not eating all that food myself.”
“I wasn’t judging.” You grin. Far be it from you to shame anyone with a big appetite.
“So… how was your breakfast yesterday? The one you practically ran out of my apartment to get to?” he teases. You twist on your stool to face him, and he does the same, his thighs bracketing yours.
You purse your lips in a mock pout. “I didn’t run!” You had, in fact, basically had to drag yourself out of his place in order to meet your friends on time. But he doesn’t need to know that. “But it was good.” He doesn’t need to know that he was pretty much the sole topic of discussion, either. “My friends really liked the photo we took. Of the antlers?”
He nods coolly at this information, but his cheeks flush. “I thought they might.” One of his hands rests lightly on your knee, thumb skimming over your jeans. Whatever annoyance was left boiling in your blood dissipates at his touch. “I’m glad I didn’t hold you up. As much as I wanted to.”
Your neck heats at the look in his eye, but before you can come up with a reply, the server reappears with your drinks, breaking the moment. You let your own hand fall on his knee, fingertips tapping out a random rhythm as you change the subject. “So… what did you do yesterday afternoon? I got back from brunch and you were gone.”
Jungkook cocks his head. “Oh yeah? You come looking for me?”
“No.” Yes. “I just didn’t hear any music all day, figured you were out.” It’s true that you realized he was out, once you knocked on his door to no reply. You hadn’t planned on going back over to his place, but when you saw his latest note, you might have wandered down the hallway just to let him know that yes, you’d had a wonderful time on your date.
Just to reassure him. No other reason.
“Mmm.” The hand on your knee moves just a fraction of an inch higher. The warmth of his palm bleeds through your clothes, drawing goosebumps as he rubs slightly. “Went to the gym. Grabbed some food. Came home and painted for a while.”
“Speaking of art…” What a smooth segue, you think wryly, “thank you for that sketch yesterday.” That heat is back, crawling up your face as you recall the portrait on his note. “I really don’t know how you make me look so good.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not me. What you see is you.” You drop your head shyly, but can’t help but roll your eyes at his proclamation, and he laughs. “Actually, I -” He breaks off.
“You what?”
He pauses for a second, wide eyes sweeping over your face, before he laughs again and clicks his tongue. “Nah. Nevermind.”
Once again, before you can pursue that topic of conversation any further, the server returns, bearing your food on a tray and Jungkook’s in several bags. Jungkook rises to his feet as you stir your noodles.
“I better get going. Taehyung gets cranky when he’s hungry.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you. “Enjoy your lunch.”
“Thanks. You too, Kookie.”
If he’s going to blush every time you use that nickname, you’re never going to stop calling him that.
He starts to back away towards the door. “Don’t forget to text me.”
You won’t. Though you are going to give it a day or so, so you don’t seem too eager.
Even though you are.
“I won’t,” you promise as he nods and slips out into the midday sun. And then it’s just you, and your noodles, and the slight fluttering of your heart.
TUESDAY:
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:34): Hey you
(2:35): Hey yourself
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:36): How’s your week going?
(2:36): I’ve had better but I’ve also had worse, so… 🤷
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:37): Let me try to swing that pendulum towards great.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:38): Are you free Thursday night?
(2:39): No, I have a very busy night planned
(2:39): Face mask, maybe paint my nails, catch up on some shows
(2:40): I have no life, Jin. Of course I’m free. Would love to hang out
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:40): Not exactly playing hard to get, huh?
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:40): I like that.
(2:41): I aim to please
(2:41): What did you have in mind?
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:43): Well, I’ve been invited to a reception for Flavor - you know, the magazine?
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:44): It’s one of those “30 under 30” types of parties where it’s half celebration, half networking event.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:44): It will likely be a stuffy room full of old men in ill-fitting suits trying to snap up new and burgeoning talent in an attempt to infuse some youthfulness back into their restaurants and other culinary ventures.
(2:45): Wow
(2:45): How could I say no to that?
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:46): But there will be an open bar. And me, also in a suit. That fits.
(2:47): Okay, now I’m sold
(2:47): Is this like a fancy reception? Formalwear required?
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:48): Wear whatever you’re comfortable in.
(2:48): Hoodie and pajama shorts. Got it.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:49): As much as I would LOVE to see that…
(2:49): Fine. I’ll try to class it up a little.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:50): I didn’t say it had to be classy.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:50): Just perhaps not pajama shorts.
(2:51): Noted ✍
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:53): I’ll pick you up around 7?
(2:54): I’ll be here
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:54): Then it’s a date.
Seokjin 👨🍳 (2:55): Now, tell me more about these shorts. Exactly how short are we talking? 👀
By Wednesday, you’re about ready to throw your laptop out the window, if only doing so would stop the projects from piling up. It wouldn’t be so bad if your bosses bothered to give you a little kudos or even just a thank you for the extra work you’ve been putting in to get these reports done on time. Everything would still be terrible, but a little acknowledgement would go a long way to keeping you sane.
After a quick dinner, you decide to tackle a different problem weighing on your mind. What should you wear on your date tomorrow night? You’ve never attended something like this before. Should you pick out something dressy? Something professional? A bit of both?
Staring at your closet yields no answers. So you grab your phone.
(6:35): Question
(6:35): What does one wear to a reception slash networking event?
Bestie 😇 (6:36): You’re going to a networking event?
(6:36): Not for me
(6:37): Going with Jin
(6:37): He’s being recognized by Flavor magazine. I’m just arm candy
Bestie 😇 (6:38): Yeah you are
Bestie 😇 (6:38): Ummm what sort of vibe are you going for?
(6:39): Would “delicious” be too on the nose? Or “eat me”?
Bestie 😇 (6:40): I mean, Jin does love a pun. But if it’s a networking event, he might not appreciate being distracted if you walk in looking like a whole meal?
(6:41): I don’t know. From what he was saying, you might be surprised
Bestie 😇 (6:41): Oh god don’t tell me
Bestie 😇 (6:42): I’m covering my eyes right now
(6:42): Dork
(6:42): Help me pick out an outfit!
Bestie 😇 (6:44): Something simple, like that black dress of yours?
(6:44): I already wore that on our first date.
Bestie 😇 (6:45): Okayyyy
Bestie 😇 (6:45): That blue dress you wore to our engagement party?
(6:46): The one I spilled red wine on? Ended up in the trash
(6:46): Ughhhh
(6:46): Clothing is hard, dating is hard, I give up
Bestie 😇 (6:47): Oh my god, you’re falling apart over this?
Bestie 😇 (6:47): Do I need to come over and help you get it together?
(6:48): 🥺🥺🥺
Bestie 😇 (6:49): I’m on my way 💃
An hour later, there’s a knock on your door before Jennie lets herself in. She finds you lying on your bed, scrolling through for images of “classy cocktail reception outfits” in frustration.
“All right, the cavalry's arrived, let’s see what we’re working with.” She starts rummaging through your closet. The two of you go back and forth for a few minutes, pulling items out and pairing them together, offering them up for the other’s opinion, only to be met with a shaking head.
“You have an alarming number of hoodies,” she declares as she flips through your clothes. “Why do you need so many?”
“I don’t know. They’re just comfortable.” You tug self-consciously on the drawstrings of the hoodie you’re currently wearing. Jungkook’s hoodie. You’ve been wearing it for two days now. You fully intended on washing it yesterday with your laundry, so you could return it to him, but then you got chilly. And it’s so comfy. And smells like him.
You’ll give it back eventually.
“Okay, come on, there has to be something here,” Jennie mutters, reaching back as far as she can. She reemerges from the corner of your closet with a garment in hand. “What’s this?”
“Oh damn, I forgot I owned this.” It’s a white jumpsuit, with a simple sweetheart bodice and a gold belt cinching over the natural waist. Jisoo had convinced you to buy it a while ago, on a shopping trip fueled by a brunch involving way too much soju for so early in the day. There’s a reason it’s been hanging in the very back of your closet - it’s most emphatically not your style.
But then again, you’re not the type of person who usually attends events like this, so… maybe you should dress like someone other than yourself? Play pretend.
“Let me see how it looks on you!” Jennie chucks the jumpsuit at you and you change. She tips her head to the side as she makes you spin a few times. “I think this is it!”
“I think you might be right.” Studying your reflection in your floor-length mirror, you have to agree with her. The woman staring back at you looks polished. Perfectly put together. Like she belongs at a fancy cocktail hour. Plus, the high waist makes your legs look way longer than they actually are.
Your mirror self looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Suddenly, you wish it wasn’t pretend.
“Perfect! Then my work here is done.” Jennie pauses when she sees the look on your face. “Or maybe not?” She drops onto your bed. “What’s up, babe?”
“Nothing. I just…” You take off the jumpsuit, putting it back on its hanger and draping it over your mirror. “Work’s just been really frustrating lately. I mean, more so than usual. The last few weeks have been super stressful and I’m just about ready to pop.”
“Mmm. Sit and tell me all about it.” She makes herself comfy on your pillows and pats the space next to her. Lying down, you place your head in her lap, and proceed to vent everything that’s been building up over. The constant eleventh hour assignments. The lack of any recognition from your superiors for your efforts. The way your career seems to have stalled, or stopped completely.
“Are you thinking it’s time for a change?” Jennie asks when you’ve taken a breather. “You’ve always made it sound like you enjoy what you do, but do you think you want to try something else?”
You shrug. “I don’t think so. I do like my job, but I’m not sure if I want to keep working where I am.”
“Then it sounds like it’s time to look for an employer who will recognize all the hard work you put in. And actually reward you for it.”
“Yeah. I guess. I just…”
“Hate change? Love your routines? Want to burrow into a little hole at the thought of having to start over, and never come back out?”
You blink up at her. “Okay, it’s fucking creepy how well you read my mind sometimes.”
Jennie grins, booping your nose. “That’s what best friends do.” You scowl, and she laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Look, job hunting sucks, but so does working for a company where you feel trapped! If you’ve reached a dead end there, then it’s time to move on.”
“Ughhhh, I guess.” You lean your head on your shoulder. “Must you be so wise all the time?”
“Truly, it’s my burden to bear. Come on, cheer up, babe! You’ll figure this out! And you know I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“Eh, you’ve got enough to worry about right now.”
“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding is less than two weeks away. It feels like they’ve been planning it forever. Well, Jennie basically has been, pretty much since she informed you in college, mere days after meeting Yoongi, that he was The One.
Her obsession with romantic movies means that Jennie’s wedding plans borrow heavily from western-style ceremonies - like having bridesmaids, for example. As an only child, Jennie is rather spoiled by her doting parents, so they’re more than happy to do something a little less than traditional if it’s what she wants. And of course Yoongi goes along with anything Jennie dreams up. She’s got him wrapped around her stylishly manicured finger, which he’d be the first to admit.
But since you’ve been unusually busy with your own stuff lately, you haven’t really been paying attention to her wedding plans as closely as you were. You feel a pang of guilt, echoing the pain you felt the other day when you realized that you and Jisoo hadn’t hung out much lately. The last thing you want to be is that friend who is so wrapped up in herself that she doesn’t know what’s going on with everyone else.
“Well, maid of honor, reporting for duty.” With a mock salute, you grin. “What do you need from me right now?”
“Ask me again on Saturday. At the moment, we’re kind of in the calm before the storm? But it’ll be a different story this weekend.” She nudges you. “What you can do right now is distract me by telling me about this date with Jin!”
“I’ll be sure to text you as soon as I get home and give you all the sordid details.”
“Oh god, please feel free to save some of the details for yourself.” Jennie shudders. “I don’t want to be standing at the altar next week and glance at Jin and forget my vows because I’m suddenly thinking about his filthy mouth. Or other parts.”
“Suit yourself,” you grin. “But I guess this means I need to rewrite my maid of honor toast.”
“Is it too late to ask Jisoo to be my maid of honor?”
“You really think her toast would be any less dirty?!”
The two of you dissolve into giggles, and you fall back onto your pillows, feeling lighter than you have all week. Jennie’s right - you’ll figure out what to do about work. At least you know that if you need help, you won’t have to do it alone.
Upon stepping into the reception on Thursday night, it dawns on you that Jin might have undersold it just a little. First of all, he neglected to mention that it’s being held at Blue Side, one of the swankiest restaurants downtown. A place that’s way too rich for your blood, which is why you’ve never been there before. Secondly, it’s true that there are plenty of old men amongst the attendees, but the average age is definitely closer to your own, and the energy in the banquet room is absolutely buzzing - a far cry from the “stuffy” atmosphere he predicted.
Nervously, you smooth the bodice of your jumpsuit with one hand, clutching Jin’s arm with the other as he makes a beeline for the bar. It seems silly for you to feel anxious here, since you know that none of the people in this room are remotely interested in you. And yet, you are anyway. Jennie’s advice about looking for a new job has you wondering if maybe tonight could be practice for some networking of your own. The only drawback is, you’ve never been much for talking to strangers, so you’re glad Jin’s first stop is to grab some of that free booze he promised you.
Jin flags down the bartender and orders you both a drink. He leans against the bar as he smiles at you. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?”
“You did, but please do keep saying it.”
His amused honking spurs laughter of your own. “Fair enough. What about me?” He angles his face away from you, striking an exaggerated pose. You laugh again, but can’t deny how ridiculously handsome he looks tonight. When he’d shown up at your door, dressed in a raven black suit with matching silk shirt underneath, hair artfully tousled, wire-rimmed glasses on again, you first thought was, holy hell, he’s gorgeous.
Your second thought was to hope he tips his tailor well. And your third thought was highly Not Suitable For Work, or anywhere else for that matter.
After pretending to study him carefully, you give him an, “Ehhh,” and flap your hand back and forth. His eyes widen as you giggle. “Oh, relax, you know you look fantastic.”
“Hmmph. Never hurts to hear it.” He pouts, but you see the glimmer in his deep brown eyes, and can’t suppress another grin.
“Also fair.” Stepping closer, you press a kiss to his cheek without a second thought. The tips of his ears darken a little. “I just didn’t want you to get a big head about it. Need to keep you grounded, before everyone else here starts kissing up to you.”
He wraps an arm around your waist as the bartender slides your drinks to you. “Ah, I see. Are you worried you’ll have to fight for my affections tonight? Don’t be.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine. “The only one I want kissing me tonight is you.”
“Just kissing?”
He winks, and your teeth bite into your lower lip as he licks his. “I guess we’ll see how the night goes.” You stir your cocktail as he dips his head, brushing his mouth by your ear. “Especially if you’re a good girl.”
His breath tickles your ear, words sending a shiver down your spine. Memories of your last date play in your mind. You’d very much enjoy the chance to show him just how good you can be.
Drinks in hand, Jin leads you over to where some very appetizing-looking food has been laid out, and you quickly assemble yourself a plate of snacks. By the time you’ve started on a second plate, you’ve already been introduced to a dozen other guests, all of whom politely repeat your name and then immediately ignore you, dominating the conversation completely.
Jin, for what it’s worth, keeps trying to pull you back in, but the others aren’t interested and always end up steering things back to business. And as the night wears on, you stop trying to engage Jin in any conversations of your own, since you’re constantly interrupted by others. You can’t really blame them - who wouldn’t want to talk to this handsome, funny, incredibly talented man by your side? At least he’s sticking close to you, always with a hand on your back or an arm looped around your waist. Every little touch makes your skin buzz.
By your third plate, you’ve nearly given up on the idea of practicing your social skills, when you spot a familiar face standing at the bar. As several executives from cooking network Nosh corner Jin, you excuse yourself and make your way over to her.
“Wendy?”
The woman turns around, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She exclaims your name. “I thought that was you! How are you?”
It’s been several years, but your former coworker is still as bubbly and kind as you remember. Wendy had been one of the first friends you’d made when you’d started, but she left the company not long after that. She’s just as gorgeous as ever tonight, lithe frame draped in a chic black dress, accented perfectly with gold earrings and a matching bracelet. If you in your outfit look like you belong at this reception, she looks like she’s running it.
The bartender brings you another cocktail as you two catch up. Before long, you find yourself bending Wendy’s ear about your frustrations with work.
“Believe me, I understand!” she consoles you, patting your arm. “Why do you think I left? Chan and Associates is a great training ground, but once you reach a certain level, there’s really nowhere left to go! And you can only do other people’s work for so long before you’re ready to run out the door.”
You nod. “Yes! Exactly!” Taking a swig of your drink, you gaze over at where Jin is still deep in discussion with the network execs. “So you said you’re working in entertainment these days? That must be such a wildly different environment to work in.”
“Yes! My firm has several clients that include television networks and a couple streaming platforms. It’s great. I’m here with some execs from one of the streamers tonight, technically on the clock in case anyone wants to discuss possible investment strategies, but between you and me? I just could not resist the lure of free drinks.”
“I get it.” You clink your glasses together.
“But listen, there are so many unexpected perks with this job! Like travel. Especially right now, this platform’s taking a big swing towards shows that explore local cuisines, and I’ve gotten to go on several trips already. A few were even international.” She rattles off a list of countries you’ve never been to, and your envy grows. The only travel you’ve ever done for your job was to attend several dull conferences, all within the confines of your city.
“Wow, that sounds amazing.”
“Oh yeah!” Wendy nods. “It’s been incredible. And also, the actual benefits themselves are fabulous, too.” As she continues to extol, rattling off a list of impressive benefits your company does not offer, your jealousy grows, until you can’t help but ask a very important question.
“So, um, would you know if your firm is hiring right now, or…”
Wendy digs through her clutch and pulls out a business card. “I don’t think we are at the moment, but send me your resume anyway! I’ll keep you in mind if I hear anything, and I can also pass along some names of some people who helped me get this job - a few industry headhunters whom you should definitely get to know!”
“Wendy, you’re the best. Thank you so much!” You turn her card over in your hands, fingers running over the embossed letters. Fancy. “I will absolutely email you first thing tomorrow.”
Wendy glances at her watch. “I think I might bounce. The longer these things go on, and the drunker people get, the less I’m usually needed. Listen - keep your head up at Chan, okay? Hopefully you won’t have to mark time for much longer!”
“From your lips to the universe’s ears, Wendy.” With a hug, she leaves.
You stare at her card again, lost in thought. Running into Wendy definitely feels like a rather serendipitous moment. It seems like the universe might have just dropped an opportunity directly into your lap. Could it really be this easy to escape your current situation?
Jin materializes beside you, placing his empty glass on the counter. “Did I just see you take someone’s card?”
“Yes! Former coworker. Possible new job lead.” You slip the card into your clutch before you accidentally leave it on the bar. It could be your ticket out. Better not lose it.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were looking for another job.”
“Yeah, that’s probably because I am just kinda realizing now that I want one.” Tapping the clutch, you grin. “And this might be the start.”
“Well, congratulations. I’m glad that something good came out of this evening for you. ” He gives you a soft smile, and the butterflies in your stomach take flight. “Thank you for coming with me. I know this has probably been pretty boring for you, and to be honest, there were a few conversations earlier that nearly put me to sleep, too, but… having you here made my night so much better.”
With a shy smile, you nod. The sincerity in his gaze has those butterflies all riled up again. And his tone reminds you of what he said at dinner the other night, about wanting to share his life with someone.
You take a slow sip of your drink, giving the butterflies time to calm down. “I’m really glad I came, too. But what about you? Has anything good come out of all that elbow rubbing tonight? Those execs from Nosh sure seemed to have a lot to say.”
Jin beams. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but…” He jerks his chin, indicating for you to lean closer. “Nosh might be interested in producing my show! They said something about adding it to the network lineup in the fall. That is, if my agent and I can put together a strong pitch for their upfronts in the next few weeks.”
You smack him lightly on his solid chest. “Jin! That’s fantastic!”
He laughs, grabbing your hand. “I know! I don’t want to get my hopes up too much, since it was just one conversation, but a network budget would really improve everything - I could do so much more!” He slings an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side. “I think maybe we should celebrate, no?”
“Hmmm.” You pretend to consider. “What do you have in mind?”
He glances around covertly before pulling you flush against him, dipping his head to brush your lips with his. “Maybe we go back to my place? I have some champagne in the fridge. We could have some dessert.” One of his hands ghosts down your ass, giving a light squeeze that makes you squeak into his mouth. “If you’re still hungry.”
Oh yes, you’re suddenly very hungry. “We should absolutely do that.”
“So you’re ready to get out of here?”
You definitely are, especially with the way his long fingers are stroking over your hips. However, you are also full of several cocktails and about ready to burst. “Yes! I just need to run to the ladies room first. Be right back.”
At the sink in the restroom, you take a moment to collect yourself. Although your head is spinning a little from Jin’s touch, your reflection still looks so put together. Maybe, after your run-in with Wendy tonight, it won’t be long before you feel just as confident as your mirror self looks.
As you cross through the club, trying to figure out the least awkward way to ask Jin if you’ve been a good girl tonight, you discover that he’s no longer alone at the bar. The Nosh execs are back.
“Hey,” Jin greets you warmly when you reach his side, “you remember Hongjoong-ssi and San-ssi from earlier, right?”
You nod politely. “Of course.”
“They just invited us to join them for a nightcap,” Jin informs you.
“We’d like to discuss our idea in further detail,” the exec named San adds. “We’d love to treat you as well, if you’d care to join us?”
You smile as brightly as you can, but your heart sinks. As excited as you are for Jin and this potential deal, you very much want to leave this reception and all this talk of careers behind. But it would be selfish of you to insist that he take you home. You can’t do that to him, knowing how much this could affect his career.
You also have zero interest in sitting at another bar in silence while a conversation carries on around you. It’s already getting late, especially for a homebody like you, and you’re tired, the alcohol in your veins slowly completing its alchemy, transforming into drowsiness. If you’re not going to do anything, uh, stimulating with Jin right now, you’re at danger of falling asleep.
So with a gentle smile, you shake your head. “Actually, I think I’m going to call it a night. Tomorrow morning is going to come way sooner than I’d like.” You nod at both of the execs again. “But thank you for the offer.” Turning to Jin, you tug him away from the other men slightly. “Raincheck on the celebration?”
“Of course,” he replies. “We’ll celebrate some other night. You know my door’s always open.” He pauses. “Do you want me to wait with you for a ride?
“No, you go ahead! I’ll be fine.” Jin pulls you in for a kiss, but it’s too quick, lips barely meeting yours, and your heart sinks a little further as he and the others depart.
The butterflies go still again while you wait for your ride to arrive.
On the ride back to your apartment, whatever elation you felt after seeing Wendy quickly dissolves. Staring out the window as the city lights zoom by, you start to feel your frustration rising again. But it’s nothing to do with work anymore.
No, the more you think about it, the more you’re bummed that Jin didn’t come home with you. Tonight didn’t feel like much of a date. By the end of the night, all you wanted was some alone time with Jin. A chance to actually talk to him. Among other things. His teasing comments and lingering touches all evening worked all too well on you. You wanted that dessert he mentioned, even if you didn’t know exactly what he had in mind. You were pretty sure it would involve at least one orgasm.
Your phone rests on the seat beside you. Picking it up, you open your messages, and scroll until you see the last text from Jungkook.
All week long, you’ve done this. Open your phone, pull up your messages, find his name. And then close the app without typing a word. Each time afraid that you’re being too impatient, too eager. The opposite of light and casual. But it’s been several days now, so why not text him?
Yet as your thumbs tap the screen, you pause. Would it be weird to see if Jungkook’s around when you get back? The two of you could hang out… but would you just hang out? Can you control yourself around him, especially when you’re feeling a little pent up and dissatisfied?
Sure you can.
Maybe.
Okay, probably not. So maybe it’s not a good idea. Because how would Jungkook feel knowing you’re trying to hook up with him after Jin got you worked up?
Your night at Dionysus was as close to blurring the lines between the two of them as you’d like to get.
With a sigh, you tuck your phone into your clutch. Out of sight, out of mind.
Ha. Right.
Turns out it doesn’t matter what you decided, because when you get back to your place, Jungkook’s apartment is quiet. His schedule seems to vary during the week, with only the sound of music thumping through the wall ever letting you know if he’s around or not.
Changing into a soft oversized t-shirt, you go through your nightly routine, getting ready for bed. By all rights, you should be exhausted. It’s nearly midnight. On a typical Thursday, you’d be asleep by now. And all that socializing combined with the alcohol should have run you right down. But once you actually crawl into your sheets, sleep is nowhere to be found. Turns out you’re still wound up. Still frustrated.
Time for a release.
Reaching into your nightstand, you pull out your favorite toy. It’s been a while since you’ve needed Lil Jackson Wang’s help, thanks to your suddenly jam-packed dating life, but the longer you lie here, unable to sleep, still electrified from Jin’s words, his touch, the more your desperation builds. With a click, Lil Jackson whirs to life.
Gently, you run the vibrator along your slit, letting the soft hum clear your mind. It doesn’t take long for your arousal to build, and you slip the thick curve of the toy between your wet folds, pretending it’s Jin’s long fingers finding their way inside of you.
Or Jungkook’s. Or maybe both?
Oh fuck, Lil Jackson slides so easily inside you as you suddenly imagine both Jin and Jungkook are here with you. Lying on either side, mouths sucking at your breasts, their hands diving between your legs. Good thing Jungkook’s at work, so you don’t have to stifle yourself worrying about the thin walls, because you don’t want to. You let yourself moan loudly, feeling all that anxiety and irritation that was welling up inside you disappear as that familiar knot in your gut begins to tighten.
“Fuck,” you groan after a minute, grabbing your phone and opening an app. One of your favorite things about this toy is the way it pairs to music, syncing the vibrations to the beat. But before you can decide on which track you want Lil Jackson to dance to tonight, your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, startling you.
Jungkook 🦌 (11:49): need a hand?
This time your “Fuck!” is a yelp. Apparently Jungkook is home. Switching your toy off, you freeze, not sure how to respond, heart still pounding from the shock of the text alert.
(11:50): I didn’t know you were home
Jungkook 🦌 (11:50): yeah. strained a muscle at dance practice today
Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): was just sleeping it off
Well, that explains why his place was so quiet.
(11:51): Oh shit, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?
Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): only when i move
Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): heh
Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): i’ll be fine, just gotta stay off it for a day or so
(11:52): Oh good
Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): yeah
Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): so
Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): anyway, don’t let me interrupt you
He’s a little too late for that. Lil Jackson currently sleeps on your thigh, though you’re still pretty wet, and still needing that release.
Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’m not making you uncomfortable am i?
Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’ll give you your privacy
Jungkook 🦌 (11:55): i can put on some music if it helps
That gives you an idea. You press the Call button.
“Hey,” he breathes softly when he answers.
“Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”
“‘Don’t be.” Jungkook sighs. “Didn’t mean to stop you. I’m sorry if I made this weird.”
“You didn’t.” Not really. The thought of him lying there, listening to you is kind of hot. Now that you’ve recovered from your initial shock, anyway. “I just got back from a date with Jin. And couldn’t sleep, so…”
“Ah.” There’s a long pause, and you wonder what’s going through his head, before his raspy voice comes on the line again. “Well, I hate the idea that I’m keeping you up… or keeping you from getting what you need…”
He’s setting you up perfectly. “Jungkook. Listen. Do you, uh, still want to give me a hand?”
A quick inhale. “I’d love to. But I’m not sure if I can walk over there right now, so-” He trails off as you quickly send him two more texts. “What’s this?”
“Um, you should download that app. And that’s the login info.”
“Login for wh…. Oh.”
You gaze at the ceiling, waiting for him, a flutter of excitement coursing through you. Pleased with yourself for this brilliant notion. Earlier, you were worried about blurring the lines between the two men, seeing one after the other. But this? This is not that.
This is an electronic loophole.
(Or so you tell yourself.)
Lil Jackson buzzes to life.
“Is it working?”
“Oh, yes!” you answer effusively as the toy in your hand pulsates.
“Any requests?”
“For songs to pair it to?”
“This thing pairs to music?” His voice is a little faint, so you assume he’s scrolling through the app. After a minute, “Nice & Slow” starts playing through your phone. The vibrations shift, matching the beat of the music.
“Ooh, Usher. Good choice.”
“I thought you’d like that one. But what I meant was, is there a certain speed or rhythm I should use, or…”
You grin, teasing him, “Uh-uh. I’m not telling you anything. You have to figure it out for yourself.”
Somehow you can hear a matching smile in his reply. “And how am I supposed to know if I’ve found the magic setting?”
“By how loud I get.” Might as well put the thin walls to good use.
“Fuck, this is gonna be fun,” Jungkook groans. “One last question. Do you want me to keep talking?”
“God yes. Please. Keep talking to me, Kookie.”
“Whatever you want, jagiya.”
The butterflies stir again. But Lil Jackson stills.
“Aw, why?!”
He laughs. “Hold on, you gotta set the stage for me. Tell me what I’d see if I were over there right now.”
“You mean like, what am I wearing?” You glance down at your stretched out t-shirt. “Um… I guarantee that whatever you’re imagining is way sexier than what I have on.”
“I promise you that’s not true. I remember how you looked in my hoodie. You make anything look sexy.”
If anyone else said that, you’d assume they were just feeding you a line. But for some reason, when he says it, you believe it, and your face warms.
“Hold on a sec.” You quickly yank your shirt off before lying back down. “Okay, so… if you were here, you would just see me on my bed. No clothes, only me, lying here on my sheets.” You pause, wondering if that’s enough. Deciding it’s not. “Thighs spread. Like I’m waiting for you.”
There’s a light hiss. “Fuck, jagi, you say you’re not an artist, but you paint a pretty picture.” The toy starts to vibrate again, and you grip it before it shakes off your leg. “What else?”
“Ummm… I have my phone in one hand and Li - the toy in the other.”
“Huh. So if I told you that I wanted you to drag your fingertips down that pretty little pussy of yours, and tell me how wet you are, you couldn’t do that?”
Jesus, the mouth on this man. From zero to one hundred real quick. Your clit throbs. “Fuck. No.”
“That’s not gonna work, then. Can you put me on speaker?”
You do as instructed.
“All right. Now. Take your free hand, jagi. And tell me what I want to know.”
Lil Jackson is still pulsing in your left hand as you take your right and draw a line down your folds. You’re so slick, arousal gathering on your fingertips as you speak into the phone on the pillow by your head. “Mmm, I’m already so wet, Kookie.”
“Got yourself worked up earlier?”
“A little bit.” You close your eyes, remembering your fantasy. “I - I was thinking about you.”
Another sharp inhale. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Imagining you were here. Touching me.” With your eyes closed, it’s so easy to tell him these things. And even easier to imagine he’s right here next to you, murmuring in your ear.
“Jagi. Take the toy and press it against yourself.” His voice gets lower as he commands you, a husky timbre that has you clenching around nothing as you listen. “Just brush it against your lips.”
The pattern changes to a steady thrumming as you swirl the toy through your slick folds.
“How does that feel?”
“Feels good,” you sigh, hips rocking slightly as you roll the vibrator up and down.
“Good,” he hums. “Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything you want, Kookie, just don’t turn off the toy again.”
He chuckles, but it’s not his usual high giggle, it’s a dark rumble that sends a rash of goosebumps rippling down your neck. You haven’t even touched your breasts, but your nipples are pebbling as you begin to pant. “I’m pretending I’m there, too. And that’s my tongue, licking that delicious pussy of yours. I can practically taste you right now. Can you feel me, baby?”
“Jungkook,” you moan, hips still canting forward as you press the toy harder against your core, seeking more friction.
“I want you to rub that little clit of yours now. Because I want to wrap my lips around it. Let me suck on it a little, just the way you like.” Moving Lil Jackson as he demands, your breath catches in your throat as the vibrator shifts again, the beat changing as “All the Time” by Jeremih starts. A personal favorite. “Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad, jagi. I wanna bury my tongue inside you. Can you feel me slipping inside?”
The curve of the toy plunges between your folds and you whine as it brushes against your walls. “God, yes, I feel you!”
“Mmm, keep going. Wanna fuck you with it. Go on, baby. Help me fuck you.”
You thrust the toy into your tight cunt, wailing helplessly, fucking yourself just the way you like. Just the way you imagine he’d fuck you, that thick cock of his filling you up, stretching you out, making you his.
“Fuck, Jungkook!”
“That’s right, jagi, let everyone know who’s making you feel like this. I can’t get enough of your moans, let me hear them.”
At this point, your wanton mewling is probably going to wake your other neighbors, but you don’t care. All you can picture is Jungkook above you, dark eyes holding yours as he strokes into you again and again.
“I know I’m making you feel good because I can feel your thighs squeezing around me. Fuck, jagi, I wanna feel those soft thighs under my hands, wanna pin them down so you can’t move. Want you to lie there and take it. Do you want that?”
You want everything he has to give. “Yes, please!”
He laughs. “So polite. Let me give you more, jagi. Put the toy inside you and leave it there.”
You know exactly what he wants you to do. Lil Jackson is designed for hands-free use, the two curved ends fitting perfectly over your clit and against your g-spot. You nestle the toy securely and gasp as the buzzing increases.
“All right, baby. Now take those hands and play with your tits for me. Since I’m not there to do it myself, I need you to do it for me.”
It’s getting harder to think straight, the constant stimulation on those sensitive spots distracting you, but you still manage to follow Jungkook’s instructions, running your hands up your stomach to fondle your breasts, imagining his strong hands caressing you.
“Let me roll my fingers over those gorgeous tits while I suck on that clit some more. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming on my face.”
The knot in your gut grows as you rub your hands over your breasts, kneading, pinching your nipples hard enough to make your back arch off the mattress. You’re no stranger to your own touch, but it’s overwhelming tonight, especially with Jungkook’s filthy mouth running nonstop lewd commentary in your ear. You can feel your peak approaching and you want it so bad.
So you beg.
“God, Kookie, I wanna cum! Please, please make me cum!”
There’s a hitch in his breath. Tipping your head as close to the phone as you can, you think you detect something in the background.
“Are y-you,” you stutter, “fuck, are you touching yourself?”
“Yeah. You think I can lie here and listen to you touching yourself the way I want to and not be hard as a fucking rock?” He hisses, and the sound shoots straight to your tight core.
“Fuck, Kookie!” This time, when you say his name, Jungkook lets out a needy whimper. You remember all the sweet little noises he made the other night. You want to be the one to make him sound like that.
He switches up the pattern, and you twist a nipple between your finger and thumb, other hand flexing in your sheets. The cadence no longer matches the tempo of the music. Jungkook’s taken back control.
“Do you remember that night when you came to Paradise?”
Do you remember it?? How could you possibly forget?
He takes your moan for the affirmative it is.
“When you ran into me in the hallway, earlier in the night?” Jungkook asks. “Do you know why I had to run back into my apartment like that?”
Not thinking, you shake your head, too wrapped up in the quivering beat between your legs to remember that he can’t see you. But he doesn’t seem to need your answer, as he continues on.
“Because of what you did to me.”
“What… what did I do?”
“The same thing you’re doing right now. Turning me on.” Another groan hits your ear, before his voice rumbles again. “I couldn’t leave for work like that. I was late because I had to stop and jerk off. You in that tight little dress… fuck, jagiya,” he growls. “You drive me fucking insane.”
“Kookie!” you gasp, keening at the intensity as it climbs again, getting stronger. “Oh fuck, please don’t stop, I’m so close!”
His breathing is ragged now, strangled grunts coming through the phone to match your unrestrained moans, and somehow you know he’s just as close as you are. “Ah, fuck, jagi, if I were there right now, I’d fuck you so good, baby, ah, I wanna feel you, I want you so bad!” The last word is an unrestrained whine, a deeply frustrated sound that cracks something wide open inside you, and you sob desperately in reply.
“God, yes, fuck me, Kookie, please, I want you I want you I -” Head tossing back, your mouth falls open in an impassioned cry as you reach the peak and tumble over the edge into euphoria. The vibrations don’t cease, even as your walls clench and your clit shudders beneath the toy’s continued quaking, but you can’t form the words to ask Jungkook to turn it off, surrendering to the feeling reverberating through you.
There’s a choked sob on the other end of the line, a stuttering cry that resonates through the wall, and then he pulls you from your high, bringing you back to the moment.
The vibrations finally stop.
Neither of you speak for a few minutes. Your breathing begins to even out as you cradle your phone, listening to the soothing rhythm of his soft exhalations. No thoughts. Just in, out.
Your eyelids droop.
Jungkook finally speaks. “Are you falling asleep on me again?”
“...yes.”
He laughs, a tiny giggle that makes your lips lift. “I guess I can’t get upset since that was the goal here, right? To help you sleep?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, rolling onto your side. “And it worked like a fucking charm. I owe you one.”
“Gonna remember that.”
“You better.”
“Go to sleep, jagiya.”
You hum, eyes already closing. “Night, Kookie.”
When your alarm goes off a few hours later, there are messages waiting for you.
Jungkook 🦌 (1:03): i’m keeping that app. and i work tonight.
Wooooo that chapter has a spicy ending 🥵 To say I have Paradise!Jungkook brain rot would be an understatement. There is something about him that is equal parts super lovable and oh so enticing.
That said, if Jin called me a good girl I’d collapse on the spot. That man in a suit and glasses using that term!? I’m a goner 🫠
I can feel the difference in connection between the reader and Jin vs the reader and JK. Jin is not a bad fit for her by any means, but he’s just not quite right. Fancy galas and rubbing elbows with the culinary elite is exciting, but I feel like the reader would not want to do that all the time like she would if she ended up with Jin. While at the end of the day I’m fully in camp Jungkook, I’m all here for the reader enjoying both men to the fullest 😏
blurb - Recently broken up with and cheated on, you decide to go to your first frat party and see what is so appealing about sex with a stranger.
Pairing - han/reader
Genre: fluff, smut, university au
Rating: M for seggs
Word count: ~5k
warnings: safe sex, cunninglingus, oral sex, SO MUCH KISSING, alcohol consumption, intoxication, foul language, questionable choices after a breakup. han being as han as i can make him.
author note: figured i’d post this here. my first skz fic. :D enjoy.
masterlist
——
You probably shouldn’t pull out your phone from the back pocket of your jean mini. Not at your very first fraternity party. Not while you’re in some tiny room (is it a closet?). Certainly not while some guy’s hand is up your shirt and mouth on your neck.
I love this fic so much! So soft, so sexy, so real. I love Jisung and his anime girl bird legs and his incredible talent at making consent and communication sexy. I love the reader and her confidence to go for it and stick it to her dumb cheating ex. Congrats on your first SKZ fic, Thea! I know I’ll be coming back to this one a lot.
Because I need it to have to same feel as Secret Santa, talking about all the little sensory notes. I also had to create three OC's to be the readers friends. I don't want them to be flat either, I want these friends to have depth, history and dimension so I need to fluff it accordingly after the first draft is complete.
@hannahbee12719 love, I swear it will be up soon!
ANYWAY, I made a playlist back in December and will drop some of the covers that didn't make it below! Shoutout to @rapline-heaux for helping me choose between the final two, ily bby 💋
Warning: Master/submissive kink, praise kink, midnight booty call, BDSM, candles, pain/pleasure, customized butt plugs, protected sex, tickling, whipping, sensory deprivation (blindfold, restraints), strip tease, domination, Jungkook likes corn ice cream after sex, Jungkook has pierced nipples, boot kissing, safe word established but not used, spanking, Jungkook has addictive whimpers, face sitting, choking
Disclaimers: this is just fiction and not my actual view of the real people
Summary: Jungkook is needy after a hard day at work, Jimin has some ideas.
JayKaaayyyy 23:57 PM - babe, you up?
Jimin 00:01 AM - Yes, but I'm bored. Do you want to do something?
JayKaaayyyy 00:01 AM - i wanna fuck you into the next lifetime.
Jimin 00:01 AM - …
Jimin 00:02 AM - Wow. Are you using me for my body?
JayKaaayyyy 00:02 AM - nah, just needy af
Jimin 00:04 AM - Oh, I see.
Jimin 00:04 AM - I thought it was my turn to be Master?
Jimin 00:04 AM - I have been thinking about what I could do to you for a few days.
JayKaaayyyy 00:05 AM - 🫨🥴🤯😵💫😵😲😳🥹☠️
JayKaaayyyy 00:07 AM - does Master want my body?
Jimin 00:07 AM - I'm lighting the candles right now.
JayKaaayyyy 00:07 AM: is Master going to use them on me?
Jimin 00:08 AM - Would you like that?
JayKaaayyyy 00:08 AM: yes Master. I'm on my way now, Master.
Jimin 00:08 AM - Such a good boy for me. Drive safely.
JayKaaayyyy 00:10 AM - yes Master, I will.
Jimin studied his reflection in the large oval mirror as he finished tying the black silk ribbon of the satin underbust corset that drew his torso in just enough to give him a slight hourglass figure. He tilted his head and adjusted the silk ribbons at his wrist of the black mesh shirt he had tied neatly, then turned to the side. He had always had a lithe figure, but how he did love seeing himself in a corset and how it accentuated his favorite features of his body, from the curve of his pecs, his small pretty waist, and his delightfully full hips not to mention…
He shifted a little more, checking his own rump out as he rotated his hips up and smirked at himself.
He did have a great ass, plump and firm. The corset hit exactly where it needed to for it to be perfectly accented.
He stood straight and leaned into the mirror, inspecting his smokey liner and dabbed the pad of his middle finger under his eye at imaginary flakes of fall out then ghosted his fingertips over his blond hair.
He had to be perfect. It was part of the experience Jungkook would need in order to get lost, to succumb to him and finally relax.
You see… that whole thing about just being needy? Utter nonsense.
Jeon Jungkook did nothing without purpose. Him randomly becoming needy wasn't something that happened.
He tended to laugh when Jimin wanted to be the Master. The power imbalance was too obvious. He would tease and mock before rolling his eyes and give in.
For him to become excited for it so easily…. His baby boy needed loving. He needed to be comforted. He needed to get his mind off of something.
He'd give it with a smile and a swift slap to his ass while taking control of his life for the night.
He double checked the handcuffs hanging from his bed posts were still secure with three hard tugs on both of them. When he determined he had met and exceeded even his exacting standards, he walked into the lounge and checked the time.
He pulled on a pair of leather gloves and rolled them up his arm to his elbow and quirked a brow up with a small sigh.
Jungkook would be there at any moment.
He went to the closet by the entryway and pulled out his favorite pair of leather boots, the ones that were solely used for pleasuring Jungkook.
Jimin stepped into them, fondly recalling how wide Jungkook's eyes had gotten when he'd first presented himself in this outfit and told the younger man to call him Master and that if he was a very good boy, there'd be a treat for him at the end.
Corn ice cream.
That was what Jungkook always wanted after sessions like this. He was the reason there was anything at all in Jimin's freezer.
But he did so enjoy lying in bed while watching Jungkook eat the treat all wrapped up in the large fluffy white blanket that happened to be Jimin's favorite favorite.
He walked into the bedroom that was awash in the amber glow of the candles he'd lit around the room, including a candle specifically designed to be used in the art of bodily pleasure, and stopped for a moment to appreciate the simple beauty of the room.
It was a small room with a high ceiling. The wall across from him was entirely glass with a door that opened up to the balcony. He still had the white drapes open and from his view point, he could see the full moon that seemed to be laying on thick clouds floating by his little castle in the sky.
He strode over to the sleek black metal table that sat next to his bed and took in the scent of the red roses he'd bought earlier that day. He smirked as ideas of what he could use them for flowed through his mind.
He looked down at the black box that laid open before the flowers.
This was his toy box.
He kept this box hidden behind shoe boxes in the very back of his closet.
He let his fingers glide over the leather whip, the handcuffs with the delicate gold chains, the nipple clamps… all the toys he was eager to use.
A knock came at his door.
He took a deep breath and licked his lips before walking back into the lounge. Now facing the door, he stood a few paces away and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew what he looked like with one foot facing the door with his other foot directly behind it and turned to the side. He raised his head to give his beauty an air of arrogance as he waited patiently.
He heard Jungkook hesitantly enter the code then open the door.
The younger man’s eyes were wide, his face glowing with a slight sheen as though he’d run up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.
Jungkook walked inside, dropped the small black duffel bag, and gave a low bow before straightening up then slipping out of his shoes. He couldn’t hold Jimin’s gaze and looked at a random spot off to the left as he took deep breaths. “Master is very beautiful.”
“Am I now?” Jimin’s tone was firm and low in his natural satoori he had rarely used since he moved to Seoul.
“Yes, Master.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes, studying Jungkook carefully before scoffing. “You didn’t put any effort into your appearance. Look at you still in your pajamas.” He plucked the blue flannel shirt for emphasis, pinching the youth’s nipple in the process. Jungkook stifled a groan as he squirmed in place. “Your hair’s not done and you can’t even look at me. Is this how you treat someone you believe to be beautiful?”
Jungkook lowered his head. “I apologize, Master.”
Jimin gave a low hum. The tone was reverent, but he wanted more from him. He gripped his throat, squeezing just enough to make Jungkook look up at him. “Do you? Is that how you apologize to me?”
He caught Jungkook’s eyes widen before he dropped to his hands and knees, touching his brow to the gleaming wood floor for a moment before crawling quickly to Jimin’s feet and pressing a kiss to the toe of his shoe.
“I humbly apologize to my Master. I was too eager to have my Master's touch to think of how disrespectful my appearance is. Master deserves better. I will not disappoint him again.”
Jimin sighed and watched him kiss his shoe once more. “Stand up, Jungkook. You’re no good to me down there.”
“Yes Master.” He stood straight, this time, forcing himself to lock eyes with Jimin.
He almost seemed to be trembling.
This made Jimin proud. He liked having this effect on his lover.
Great big, handsome Jeon Jungkook with all his muscles, his talent, and his ability to excel at everything he did almost effortlessly was trembling in anticipation before him.
Power rushed through him.
“What’s the safe word tonight, my love?”
“Sakura.”
“Sakura it is.” Jimin slid his tongue to rest in the corner of his mouth as his eyes moved up and down Jungkook’s body slowly.
“Take those clothes off for me." He moved to the large red armchair in front of the fireplace and crossed his legs and propped his elbows on the plush arms of the chair. "But do it slowly, I want to enjoy a good show.”
Jungkook swallowed hard and shuddered. "Yes Master."
He stepped into the hallway where Jimin knew he was pulling off his socks (easily the least sexiest things to remove) and mentally preparing himself.
Jungkook was nothing if not a born performer.
He walked back into the lounge transformed as slow, sultry music filled the room. His face was no longer timid, now wearing a knowing smirk beneath narrowed eyes. He had quickly fixed his hair the best he could so that it laid rather neatly and exposed the undercut he'd gotten recently.
Jimin watched as Jungkook studied the area he had to work with, mentally tailoring his performance to his mood and how he needed to be treated that night. Through his art, Jimin would be able to see if his shoulders were stiff, if he was angry or stressed, or if his legs were bothering him.
He wondered if Jungkook was aware of just how much he could discern from his performance. He'd never talk about it though. He much preferred Jungkook believe he was just that perfect of a lover.
Jimin cleared his throat and shifted in his seat as discreetly as he could.
His pants were already growing tight and his throat was quivering. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest and he wondered if his skin was beginning to flush around his eyes.
Damn it. He needed to be touched. Now.
Thankfully, Jungkook quickly fixed him with dark eyes as he took his starting position standing before him with the fire behind him adding to the ambiance.
Jimin couldn't help but lick his lips.
The stare was too much. How could this sweet, silly, charming young man morph into such a vixen so quickly?
Every ounce of him became exhilarated the second Jungkook fell into step with the rhythm, sliding his hand from his chest, down over his narrow waist, before descending to his thigh, ignoring the outline of his growing bulge as he brought his hands up quickly, lifting his shirt just enough to give a glimpse of the belly button just peaking over the waistband of his baggy black sweatpants.
He turned to the side, rolling his body slowly as he moved down to his knees, spreading them wide once they touched the ground. He arched his back and eased himself down until his shoulders kissed the cold marble. He ran both hands up his stomach, bringing his shirt up a little again, revealing a bit of his abs, then drew himself back to his knees then swiveled to face Jimin.
He sank down to rest fully on his calves, then up a bit, slightly raising his shirt, then back down, then up again in a continuous pulse, each time rising a little higher on to his knees and teasing his shirt up more and more with each rise.
Jimin watched, transfixed as he propped his head up with his thumb under his chin and his index finger against his cheekbone. He narrowed his eyes and stroked his plush lips with the side of his middle finger. Jungkook seemed to glow in the low light. It was incredible.
But… how? How was he glowing like that?
Jimin’s lust-addled brain refused to focus on the obvious answer.
When Jungkook finally rose up fully on his knees, he fixed Jimin with a seductive scowl and pulled his shirt up enough to fully expose his entire torso and the hard earned muscles that gleamed in the light of the fire.
The tease had oiled his abs!
Jimin shifted his hips, trying in vain to accommodate his throbbing cock in pants that were already a little too small.
Jungkook was knowingly antagonizing Jimin. He wanted his lover to be rough with him tonight. He needed escape.
Jimin struggled to keep his face neutral, but was beginning to lose the battle. He wanted to touch him, wanted to strap him to the bed and draw out the prettiest whines until he was crying from pleasure.
Jungkook was keenly aware that he was delicious to behold in this position as he tipped his head back and ran a hand over his chest, pulling his shirt up over his dark, pierced nipples and the tattoo that ran down his side until it dipped under his pants.
He was a snack, a seven course meal, and a dessert.
Jungkook slid down into a pushup position, flipped himself on his back and rose up onto his right shoulder, kicking his right foot high up into the air until gliding back down onto the ground, his shirt up to show off his lean obliques. He ground his hips into the ground and then pushed himself up to twist back on to his back. He pushed himself along the floor a few paces with his feet then pushed himself up onto his shoulders and kicked his feet up. He landed in a bridge then sat as he turned with his legs spread wide.
Jimin couldn’t help but glance at the bulge in his pants. It was far too nice to be ignored.
Jungkook shifted again, bringing his left leg across so he was resting on his right hip then spun himself on to his left hip, then centered himself with both legs straight before him. He brought his right knee up and kicked his left foot up before hopping into the air, flipping over onto his left hand before righting himself up, kicking out his left foot while yanking his shirt off in one swift move as he thrust his right hand into the air and dropped his head back.
He leveled narrowed eyes at JImin and tossed his shirt to the side before spreading his arms and legs wide. He turned his body to the side and continued with the dance, twisting and flipping while Jimin sat watching the act of athleticism playing out before him.
Jimin hadn’t noticed Jungkook undoing his belt until he spun to face him and whipped it free of its constraints. He folded it in half, held one end in each hand and snapped the leather together, the sound making Jimin jump then shudder as his mind immediately conjured the last time Jungkook was in charge and had brought the whip down between Jimin’s shoulders then dragged the leather up the back of his neck.
Jimin tilted his head as his cock twitched hard multiple times. He refused to squirm under Jungkook’s scrutiny, exacerbating the need for friction. He breathed in deeply while he narrowed his eyes, knowing full well the effect his smolder had on the younger man.
He saw the defiant gleam in Jungkook’s eyes dim for a split second. He had hesitated… questioned himself. Despite his dominant nature, he needed Jimin to be in control that night. Jimin was sure he just reminded himself of that.
Jungkook was testing him and trying to see if he would break and yield control that night or if he would step up and be what he needed.
Jimin stood and strode cooly to the younger man, taking the belt from him as he gripped Jungkook’s shoulder and turned him to the side and forced him to bend over then brought the belt down on his ass with a delightful slap that made Jungkook gasp and grab Jimin’s powerful thigh to steady himself. He took several deep breaths to steady himself while Jimin flung the belt to the side.
Jimin turned his hand with the belt over and stroked the back of his fingers along his body to soothe him, humming softly when he felt Jungkook tremble under his touch. “Where are you?”
Jungkook took a few more breaths, dropping his head before fully exhaling. “Green.”
“Then say it.” He scratched his short nails down Jungkook’s rippling back muscles, watching his fingers dip and rise as they went along with another tremble from the younger man.
“Say what?” Jungkook moaned when Jimin squeezed the freshly afflicted flesh and lightly slapped him. “Master! Master Master Master. Fuck.”
“Try again.”
“I don’t know Master.” A whimper escaped Jungkook’s lips when Jimin eased his hand down between his legs and barely breezed over his balls. “Please Master. What would my Master have me say?”
“Say I’m your daddy.” Jimin hadn’t meant to whisper, but he liked the way it sounded next to Jungkook’s moan in the quiet of the room when he caressed his skin again.
“Yes, Master.” Jungkook ground his hips into Jimin’s with a delightful whimper that sent a flutter of exhilaration across Jimin’s shoulders. “Y-y-you’re m-my d-d-da…'' Jimin gripped Jungkook’s balls and squeezed. “Ah!-addy! Daddy! You’re my daddy!”
“And who are you?” He pressed a soft kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder as he moved his hand along his cock, enjoying the weight of it and how it was longer than his hand.
“‘m g-good boy.” He muttered through a stuttered moan.
“What was that?” Jimin ran the tips of his fingers down Jungkook’s cock and balls, making him tremble under his touch. He breathed through a groan and raised his head as much as he could.
“I’m a good boy.”
“Whose good boy, darling?” Jimin tilted his head as Jungkook dropped his own while Jimin slowly breezed his hand over the inside of his thigh.
“Yours!” Jungkook raised his head as he panted when Jimin palmed his cock again. His hand began to shake on Jimin’s thigh while he tried to bite back a moan. He was good and hard under Jimin’s soft touch… it must have been delightfully tortuous to be so close to relief and yet so far away as Jimin made his touch even lighter, now just barely skimming the material. It took Jungkook a moment before he finally exhaled fully and steadied himself. “Yours. I’m my Master’s good boy.”
“Yes, you are.” Jimin moved to stand in front of Jungkook with a deep breath while licking his lips. Their eyes met immediately: Jungkook’s were dark, unfocused, wide, desperate… probably mirroring Jimin’s a little too well.
He was getting sick of having his own cock trapped.
His voice was a husky whisper as he spoke, stroking his knuckles down Jungkook’s cheek. “Be a good boy and finish taking off your clothes. I’ve had enough of seeing you dressed.”
“Yes Master.” Jungkook straightened and focused on Jimin’s ass as it swayed away from him, allowing it to bring him back to his frame of mind before being a tease.
Jimin sat as Jungkook captured him in a dark, seductive, and cool gaze as he ran his tongue over his top lip slowly, tilting his head slightly as he did.
Jimin was waiting for him to push his pants down with some fancy dance step he’d learned from his little fuckboy friends.
Instead, he stalked over to him until he was straddling Jimin’s thighs, dropped his hands on the back of the chair on either side of his head and rolled his body against his.
Jimin tried to contain a whimper when he felt Jungkook’s cock against his stomach. He had tried so hard to stay in control, but fuck he loved the feeling. He wanted to drop the whole charade and tackle Jungkook to the ground and let him resume his natural position as dominator.
Jungkook grinned down at him as he sat in his lap and rolled his hips, grinding himself against Jimin’s cock, letting out a breathy laugh when Jimin closed his eyes and pushed his head into the back of the chair. He gripped Jungkook’s hips and dug his fingers into his flesh for the only moment Jungkook permitted him before moving back to sink on to one knee, twist around and move on to his hands. He eased his body down chest first then flipped over so his chest was towards the sky and he was now facing Jimin. He laid down and spread his legs wide, then thrust his hips up and down.
Jimin slowly clenched his hands into fists, digging his short nails into the flesh of his palms. His heart was beating too fast. His breathing was deep and steady in a vain, subconscious attempt to slow his heart.
All he could think of doing was ripping Jungkook’s boxers off and swallowing his cock. He would happily suffocate on that delicious, heavy, veiny, hard d…
Jungkook snapped him back to reality by easing his boxers off while pulsing his hips in a steady thrust.
Jimin caught a glimpse of a purple flash between Jungkook’s legs a moment before he popped off the ground and straddled his hips again. He undulated his hips against Jimin’s again as he rested his arms on his shoulders and lowered his face until Jimin could feel his warm, strawberry scented breath coming in soft puffs on his face.
His voice came in a breathy whisper. “May I kiss my Master?”
“You have my permission.”
Jungkook grinned, cupped the back of Jimin’s head and skimmed his lips over his before licking into his mouth. Jimin gave an involuntary moan when Jungkook's tongue smoothed over his in a firm stroke. He held Jungkook’s sides, appreciating the man's well-defined obliques before brushing his fingertips over his piercings while enjoying the languid rolls of Jungkook's tongue as he tilted his head to the other side and breathed him in. His hands slipped down Jimin’s chest, pinching lightly at his nipples before moving behind him to pull him closer with a moan muffled by Jimin’s mouth.
Jimin chased after him with a disappointed whine when he suddenly pulled away and moved between his legs. He pulled his legs around his hips and hoisted him up, holding him close as he kissed his sternum, making him tremble. He crouched down slowly lowering Jimin back until he felt his hair brush against the floor before he stood straight again and sat Jimin on the ground with a proud grin, knowing full well he had done good.
Jimin was dizzy. His brain was riddled with lust. He could barely think straight.
“Is my Master pleased with my performance?” He gave an inquisitive hum, running his hand over Jimin’s cock with a lick of his lips. “It feels like you are.”
Jimin smacked his hand away from him then slapped his cheek. Jungkook gasped and closed his eyes. He went to move his hand to soothe the sting, but resisted and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me. This is the second time I’ve had to correct you tonight. Am I going to have to punish you?”
Jungkook went to his knees and took Jimin's hand, brushing his lips against his knuckles. "Please, Master. I want to be a good boy. Want to be your good boy. Please help me learn to be your good boy."
Jimin tilted his head back and stroked Jungkook’s hair gently, enjoying the feel of his soft lips for just a moment more before pulling away.
"You want to learn, darling?" His voice was deep and soft as he spoke. Jungkook looked up at him through his lashes while Jimin hooked his finger under his chin, tilting his head up slightly as he nodded. "Alright. I'll teach you. Come along."
Jungkook stood and followed Jimin into the bedroom, covering himself the best he could with his hands. He shuddered when he saw the candles and the restraints waiting for him.
"Get down on your knees, my love." Jimin motioned to the floor before his bed. "Facing the bed, please."
Jungkook swallowed hard and knelt down then sat back on his calves. He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs and watched Jimin walk back to him with a black silk ribbon in his hands.
"What's the safe word, my love?"
Jungkook’s eyes went wide and fell to the furry white throw blanket draped over the foot of the bed, searching it as if it could yield an answer. "Oh! Sakura!"
Jimin grinned and wrapped the ribbon around Jungkook’s head, obscuring his eyes. "Good boy. Too tight?"
"N-no…"
Jimin's heart leapt at the breathless answer of his lover who was trembling before him. He bent down and took Jungkook’s hand and latched the handcuff around his wrist, tightening the strap before doing the same to the other wrist.
He was so vulnerable now as he rose up on his knees to ease the strain on his shoulders.
He jumped when Jimin stroked his jaw gently.
Jimin tilted his hand and withdrew his hand. "Where are you now?"
"'m… g-g-green."
"Are you sure?" Jungkook nodded enthusiastically and let out a centering sigh, growing still after adjusting his weight. That was enough for Jimin.
He turned and left the room slowly to stay quiet. He adjusted the heater to be a little warmer before taking his boots off and placing them back in the closet.
He turned and went into the kitchen, keeping his pace soft and steady. He knew the anticipation of what was to come when one was robbed of their senses was not for the faint of heart.
On paper, it wasn't so bad. Jimin had leapt into the experience only to be quickly overwhelmed and tapping out soon after.
It was the most intense exercise in trust he'd ever experienced. It had led to a long discussion with Jungkook that had them both in tears as they eventually allowed themselves to become vulnerable and honest with each other, holding hands and kissing chastely as the hours passed.
That was the night Jimin fell in love.
He poured himself a small glass of water and took a few moments to drink it. He sat the glass on the counter and walked quietly into the bedroom, licking his lips as he took Jungkook in.
His cock was still standing proud and glistening now as he rested on his knees. His head was tilted to the side slightly, listening for him to return.
Jimin slipped from the door to his box again.
There were so many choices.
He narrowed his eyes and plucked up the whip. He turned when he heard the jingle of the handcuffs and saw Jungkook shifting, his chest heaving as though he were breathing through fear. "Where are you?"
"G-green. Elevated a little, but g-green."
Jimin walked to stand behind him again. "Does anything hurt?"
"No."
His stutter had gone. He was calming down.
"Do you want it to?" Jimin dropped his voice to a soft whisper as he brought the straps of the whip to brush over his shoulder, making him tremble and lean into the touch. Jimin grinned when he saw his cock twitch as he bit back a whimper.
"Yes, please, Master." He gasped when Jimin brought the straps down to tickle his nipples lightly. He arched his back, desperate for the stimulation to continue. "Please teach me to be good. Make it hurt."
"Very well." Jimin took the straps of the handcuffs hanging against the posts and pulled them towards him until Jungkook was forced to stand up with his arms taught over his head. Jimin secured the straps again and ran the whip up Jungkook's back and over his shoulders. He smirked to himself when Jungkook trembled with a small whimper.
Erogenous zones located and triggered.
Crack!
Jimin slapped the whip hard enough across Jungkook’s ass to make his body tense and rise up onto his tip toes. He cried out and dropped his head back.
Jimin closed his eyes and lulled his head forward as his cock ached to be touched. He cleared his throat lightly and went to the other side of Jungkook the cracked the whip on the other cheek.
"Ah! Fuck!" He was back on his toes as he dropped his head and breathed through a groan.
Jimin smoothed his hand over Jungkook’s reddening flesh and moved in front of him to look up at the handsome man who was, in an odd way, now caging him against the bed.
Jimin preferred being on the receiving end, but he did like knowing he had this effect on his boyfriend. He smiled to himself as he ghosted his fingertips over Jungkook’s cock, eliciting a whine from him as he tried to thrust into Jimin’s hand only for him to pull away.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Jungkook heaved a sigh and pressed his thighs together, trying in vain to relieve his need for friction. He hung his head and licked his lips. "Can you blame me?"
Well…, no, in truth he couldn't. He'd do the same thing.
And he'd expect the same punishment.
He clutched the whip in his fist and gently brushed his knuckles against his ass.
It was a silent warning for Jungkook to brace for impact.
He heard Jungkook suck in a breath and saw the muscles in his back tighten seconds before the whip struck his tender flesh in rapid succession five times.
Jungkook’s right knee buckled as he wrapped his lips over his teeth and bit as hard as he could while giving the sweetest, highest whimper Jimin had ever heard. He clenched his hands into fists and let out a soft sob as his body quivered.
Jimin padded to the box and carefully wrapped the whip around itself and nestled it into the box then debated about what to use next. "Where are you?"
Jungkook’s voice came softly after a few moments. "Green."
Jimin nodded and plucked up a feather duster with long grey feathers and a thin black handle. He tested the feathers on the palm of his hand as he walked back to Jungkook and immediately regretted it.
He eyed his boyfriend and took a deep breath. "This one… might hurt a little." He smoothed his hand over Jungkook’s shoulder, doing his best to not giggle when Jungkook tensed in subconscious preparation. "Take a deep breath for me baby. If we need to stop, let me know and I'll stop immediately. Okay?"
Jungkook nodded fervently. "Yes Master."
Jimin let out an even sigh, rested his tongue in the corner of his lips, and drifted the feathers down Jungkook’s ribs. The younger man immediately twisted towards the feathers with a yelp then a giggle. He smiled as he continued to breeze the feathers across his chest, to his other side, up his back, and along the nape of his neck, delighting in the laughter that filled the room for a few moments before evolving into whines.
He took Jungkook’s cock in his hand and gave it a good squeeze as Jungkook writhed, his whines becoming near sobs.
"Ji…ah! Ah ha ah!" He shuddered hard, his cock twitching in Jimin's hand. "Jimaaahh! Sto… ah!"
"That's not my name, love." Jimin skirted the feathers over one ear then the other. "I bet I can make you come just like this, couldn't I?"
Jungkook twisted away from him the best he could as he tossed his head back with a cry as his legs gave out from under him when Jimin brought the feathers to his stomach and stroked them down his cock and balls. "Want m-m-more. No-ot yet!"
“Not yet?” Jungkook shook his head and twisted away with a whimper. Jimin let the feathers drift down his hip to the inside of his thigh, making Jungkook yelp and twist away again. Jimin breathed in deeply at the high whine that spilled from Jungkook’s mouth as he brought the feathers back up his quivering cock. "I love the sounds you make."
Jimin chuckled as he strolled to the box, playing with the feathers as he went. How wonderful that something so small could draw those sounds from that mouth. It was addictive.
His eyes darted to the box, a glint catching his attention.
He grinned and plucked the metal toy up.
Speaking of small…
"Ready for more?" Jimin twisted the slender metal object between his fingers. It reminded him of cowboy spurs. When he saw it in the store, he couldn't resist running it along the top of his arm.
The sensation of the metal both biting and tickling his skin was exquisite. It had made his eyes go wide and his mouth fall open.
Jungkook inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yes, Master."
Jimin moved in front of him and lightly ran the wheel of the instrument down Jungkook’s sternum.
"Oh what the…? Oh! Ah! F-f-fuck!" He squirmed and gave a shuddering hum as Jimin dragged the wheel over one nipple, across his collarbone, and down the other nipple. He tossed his head back with a whine as Jimin followed the outline of his muscles down to his waist, stopping just above his public bone. A slew of curses fell from his mouth as Jimin turned the wheel up and worked it up the other side of his torso.
"Such pretty sounds." Jimin whispered, bringing the wheel over Jungkook’s nipple, careful to avoid catching the piercing. "Do you have any idea how hard your sounds make me?"
Jungkook raised his head, trying (and failing) to hold a whine back. "Please, Master."
"Please what, darling?" Jim eased the wheel over Jungkook’s shoulder, coaxing whimpers and trembles from him. He drew the wheel over the swell of his hips and crouched down to start down one thigh.
Jungkook yelped and squirmed away.
The flash of purple between his legs caught Jimin’s attention this time.
"Darling…," he pressed his fingers against his left cheek, pushing him open slightly to reveal a silver heart with small purple rhinestones along the perimeter. The center was purple and read 'Daddy’s Property' in a pretty font Jimin quickly realized was Jungkook’s own handwriting. "Oh fuck baby. Is that a plug? It's so pretty."
"Does my Master like it?" Jungkook let his head fall to his chest as Jimin used his thumbs to get a better look. "I had it made just for you."
Jimin stood and kissed Jungkook’s shoulder. "It's perfect, darling. Thank you." He kissed along the top of his shoulder to the nape of his neck while his hands slid down Jungkook’s back. "Say it. Say I'm your daddy."
Jungkook let out a dark, breathy chuckle. "Make me."
Jimin stepped back with a straight face and unamused eyes. "We go and have a nice moment and you ruin it with disobedience." He slapped Jungkook’s ass hard enough for the younger man to gasp and thrust his hips away. "Do you want the candles? Hmm? Is that what you're after? Fine, we can play with the candles."
He caught the brief smirk on Jungkook’s face as he untied the straps from the bed posts and slowly lowered his arms. He wrapped an arm around Jungkook’s waist and guided him to the side of the bed where he turned him and pushed him back until he had to sit down.
“Lay back, baby.” Jimin pressed on his left shoulder to guide him towards the pillows. Once he was in the middle of the bed, Jimin secured the restraints to the posts and skimmed his short nails lightly down Jungkook’s arm to tease him just a little longer. He trailed his nails down his chest, then his stomach (grinning when Jungkook giggled and squirmed), then went down his leg and up the bottom of his foot. Jungkook tried to hide a groan at the stimulation of another of his erogenous zones before Jimin left the room.
He padded into the kitchen and took another sip of water then took a square of dark chocolate from the back of a drawer. He savored it for as long as he could before it began to melt between his fingers.
Sucking the chocolate from his thumb, he returned to the bedroom as quietly as he could. He admired Jungkook’s body and licked his bottom lip before walking into the room. He plucked up a blue candle from a small silver plate and tilted his head, wondering where he should start before shrugging. He hovered the candle high over Jungkook’s torso and tilted it while dragging it through the air to just below his belly button.
He watched the wax spill out onto glistening muscles and pursed his lips at the whines that filled the air as he righted the candle and admired how Jungkook’s chest heaved and his body arched and twisted in delight. "Do you like that, my love?"
He swallowed hard and puffed his cheeks out as he breathed through a shuddering groan. He licked his lips and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Master. P-please, m-may I have m-more?"
Jimin hummed and walked to the other side of the bed, drawing his short nails up Jungkook's foot smirking when Jungkook whined. "My beautiful baby boy wants some more?"
"Yes, p-please, M-m-master!" He fidgeted and clenched his hands into fists.
The wax that had dried on his chest was cracking like thin ice on a lake with each movement. Jimin watched it flake off for a moment before holding the candle close to Jungkook's chest without tilting it until he whined and arched his back.
"W-wha?" His question was interrupted by an ethereal cry when Jimin tilted the candle over, allowing the wax to drip on to his taut nipple, over the piercing, and down his breast to his sternum where it pooled between his muscles. He groaned and smiled broadly while looking straight up at the ceiling. "My master treats me so well."
"I like pleasing you." Jimin crawled up onto the bed and tipped the candle again and traced Jungkook’s collarbone with the rest of the wax that had pooled up, his mouth falling open as he breathed through his own moan when Jungkook tipped his head back and quivered, gritting his teeth and gripping the straps until his knuckles went white..
Jimin pulled the ribbon from Jungkook’s eyes, grinning down at him as he winced and blinked slowly before turning his blown out eyes to him again with a silent question. "Darling, would you like to choke on my cock now?"
Jungkook grunted as his eyes dropped down to Jimin’s pants and nodded eagerly, squirming to shift himself down as far as the straps would allow. “Yes, yes, yes. Please. Let me please you now..”
“Would you like that?” Jimin gripped his cock through his pants and shifted to sit on one hip as he stretched over Jungkook to put the candle on its plate. He enjoyed the heat radiating from the younger man’s body before splaying his hand across Jungkook’s ribs and moving to kiss the skin untouched by wax. Spurred on by the sounds falling from his lover’s lips, Jimin shifted up on to his knees and continued to kiss him.
“Jimin.” Jungkook’s voice was soft and low. Jimin hummed, pressing another kiss to his ribs and smoothing his hand down his side, momentarily forgetting what was happening as he appreciated his body. “Please. Let me have you. I need you.”
Jimin moved up to kiss Jungkook’s lips. He rested his brow against Jungkook’s and sighed before opening his eyes to gaze down into his. “You have me.”
He slipped off the bed and unclasped first his belt then buttons, watching Jungkook watch him carefully as he undressed himself completely, carefully folding each garment and laying them on a chair in the corner. He climbed back up on the bed and crawled up until he could nestle one leg between the headboard and Jungkook’s shoulder, then slung his other leg over his head until he was straddling his face and looking down at his eyes that were focused on his fat cock. He took his member and guided it to Jungkook’s waiting mouth. He groaned as he carefully and slowly moved his hips down until he felt the back of his throat and groaned when Jungkook gagged and his eyes began to water. He rocked his hips a little, fucking himself into Jungkook’s mouth.
“That’s it baby. Choke on my cock.” He braced himself with one hand on the headboard and tangled the fingers of his other hand into Jungkook’s hair. “You’re so good at this. You take me so well. No one else has ever made me feel as adored as you do. That’s it baby.”
Tears began to stream down Jungkook’s face as his trembling lips clamped onto Jimin.
"So pretty when you cry." Jimin's voice was deep and soft as he stroked the pad of his thumb through a tear, still keeping his thrusts gentle and shallow. "Would you like to come now?"
Jungkook hummed around his cock. It was almost too much. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and gave a whimper before pulling away and shuffling back to straddle Jungkook’s torso while the younger man coughed and inhaled deeply.
This was his typical position. Jimin liked being on top. It let him see how well his body could pleasure Jungkook’s and Jungkook could adore the way the candles illuminated his body and danced across his lean muscles.
He thought about it… just for a moment, of taking Jungkook’s heavy cock and shoving it inside of him. He hadn't prepared himself though. The pain would be too much for him. So with a sigh, he moved down to between Jungkook’s legs and sat back on his calves as he eased his hands down Jungkook’s thighs and grasped the plug.
"Relax, baby. I'm gonna take this out now." Jungkook nodded and exhaled as he watched Jimin twist and pull the plug free of his body. He bent over and sat it on the floor before pulling a drawer of the bedside table open. He fished around for a moment before pulling out a gold condom wrapper and a small bottle of lube. He settled back on his calves and made quick work of wrapping himself. He squirted a bit of lube on the tips of his fingers and smoothed them along Jungkook’s opening. He watched the younger man whine and writhe as he worked him open despite how much the plug had already helped.
He shuffled closer to Jungkook, wrapping his legs around his hips as he took himself between two fingers and his thumb and stroked himself slowly. "Are you ready for me?"
Jungkook nodded eagerly and gave another high whine as he crossed his ankles behind Jimin and pulled him closer with a hard yank that made Jimin giggle and flush. He loved being wanted like this.
"Well, if you're sure…" He hesitated a moment longer, breaking out in a full laugh as Jungkook crushed his thighs around him and desperately arched his back. Jimin fell forward in his laughter and caught himself on the bed, letting his head fall against Jungkook’s hot torso.
"Get in me already!" The young man pleaded. "Fuck me Jimin. Please fuck me!"
"Alright, alright." Jimin got back up on his knees and positioned himself again then looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "Since you asked so nicely."
He pushed himself into Jungkook’s impossibly tight and warm opening, both of them crying out in pleasure until Jimin bottomed out and rested his hands on Jungkook’s hips with a heavy breath, nodding approvingly as he stared down at where they met. "You took all of me baby, you did so good."
Jungkook could only respond in a whine. The sound and the way his face scrunched up as he arched his back spurred Jimin on. He thrusted slowly, shifting his weight on his knees as he gripped Jungkook’s hips to steady himself.
He lost himself in Jungkook’s high and airy whines as they filled the air, punctuating each thrust musically. He wrapped his hand around Jungkook’s cock and pumped him in rhythm with his own thrusts, twisting his fist and fluctuating his grip with each move. He watched Jungkook’s face, how his brows knitted at one movement but then rose up high, how his full lips would purse just before he gave a whine. He clenched his eyes and gripped the straps as he tossed his head side to side.
“Are you close, baby?” He was answered with a cry and an arch of his back. Jimin tightened his grip and licked his lips. “Come for me darling. Be a good boy for daddy and come.”
It only took a few more moments before Jungkook ground his hips down against Jimin and strained against the straps hard enough that Jimin heard the wood headboard crack and one of the straps tear as he peaked. Jimin followed soon after and pulled himself slowly from Jungkook before dropping down beside him, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.
When he could see straight again, he discarded his condom and turned to untied the straps and checked the headboard for damage then looked to see where the strap had begun to tear.
"Damn babe, I'll need to switch to handcuffs for next time." He flung the strap over his shoulder and reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a light blue package of baby wipes. He pulled a wipe out and looked Jungkook over.
His eyes were still closed, his breathing was even, and his cheeks were flush with a slight sheen of perspiration.
“How do you feel, baby? Does anything hurt?” He shook his head, a smile blossoming on his lips. “This is going to be cold.”
Jimin began to clean him gently and thoroughly as Jungkook heaved a sigh and stared up at the ceiling as he rested his arms on his brow.
“Thank you.” He looked down at Jimin as he pried a bit of remaining wax from his chest and ran a hand through his hair. “That was exactly what I needed. I’m glad you didn’t hold back this time. I know you don’t like hurting me but you do it so good.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it." Jimin smirked and smoothed the damp cloth over his chest, tilting his head until he was satisfied Jungkook was clean. “Do you need anything?”
Jungkook sat up and allowed Jimin to wrap the duvet around his shoulders and over the top of his head. He looked sheepishly over at Jimin, his grin showing his bunny teeth as he held onto the duvet and pulled it tightly around his shoulders. “Do you have ice cream?”
Jimin chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Of course I do.”
__________________________________
I hope you liked it and that this was worth the wait! Please let me know what you thought, I'm really interested to hear!
Permanent tag list: @jakiki94 @notlivingsstuff @saweetspoiled @dunixxd @yoonaasa @bang-tantan
So spicy and delicious while also having the love and trust! What a perfect combo. Dom Jimin in a corset is an automatic and enthusiastic yes for me 🤤 Thanks for the rec @jikooknoona 😉
Genre: holiday, smut, porn with the barest of plots, Roommates!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, explicit drinking game, kissing (mxr and mxm), choking, hair pulling, hand job, undernegotiated kink, implied fucking (mxr), implied voyeurism, discussions of multiple sexual scenarios like oral sex (m and f giving, m receiving) and public fingering, Stoner!Hobi because that's my jam, Yoongi is once again the instigator because that is also my jam, also long-haired Yoongi warning
Word Count: 2.3K
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: Secrets come to light after your roommate spikes the eggnog
A/N: The genesis for this one came from a discussion in the group chat with @bangtanintotheroom and @herecomesjoon. Thanks to them for helping me brainstorm! 💜
Unbeta'd as usual.
Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕
Day 2 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 4
New Year’s Day is always rough, but it’s honestly one of your favorite days. It typically finds you sleeping until noon, waking with a hangover, and recuperating on your couch watching dumb movies while one of your two roommates makes you something greasy and delicious to help you recover.
The remnants of last night’s party are still strewn about your apartment, plastic cups and streamers everywhere. The place looks like a festive tornado swept through it. But you don’t care, draining the bowl of haejangguk that Yoongi made for you. Your other roommate Hoseok sighs happily as he puts down his spoon.
“We should probably start cleaning,” he says, eyeing the mess around you. Typical Hoseok. Not even a killer hangover could stop his neatfreak ways. Even though you’d watched him drink his body weight in liquor last night, he looks remarkably refreshed, nary a dark circle under his eyes as he runs his fingers through his platinum blonde hair.
You groan, taking the empty bowls from your roommates and carrying them into the kitchen. “Please. Not now, Hobi. I’m still feeling all those shots from last night.” You dig through the fridge, hoping to find a sports drink hidden somewhere, but all you find is soju, and a giant bowl of eggnog. “Fuck, we didn’t finish the nog last night? There’s so much left.”
Yoongi pads into the kitchen. Unlike Hoseok, he looks sleepy, but that’s just his normal countenance. His dark hair curls over his ears, brushing his shoulders as he joins you at the fridge. “You know, we can solve those two problems at once.”
“Huh?”
He gestures to the eggnog. Then he wanders over to the counter where various bottles of liquor are still arranged from last night. He picks up a bottle of whisky.
“Bring me that bowl.”
It’s not a great idea, but it’s also not the worst, you conclude ten minutes later, sipping on a glass of spiked eggnog. Why not indulge in a little hair of the dog to get rid of your hangover? The bowl sits on your living room table for easy refills. You’ve curled yourself into a ball on the couch again, feet pointing towards Yoongi, who lounges at the other end. Hoseok’s sitting in the worn-out armchair the three of you found at a secondhand shop, legs splayed comfortably.
“How long is this stuff good for?” he asks, swirling his cup a little.
Yoongi shrugs. “Probably not too long, so drink up.”
Hoseok frowns. “It’s not exactly chuggable.”
“Then don’t chug it,” Yoongi replies calmly, earning a scowl from Hoseok.
“How about we play a game?” you ask, wincing slightly as you take another sip. “Lord, Yoongi, did you have to put the whole bottle in there?”
His lips quirk in a quick smirk before he raises his glass in the air. “Never have I ever… hooked up with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.” Then he takes a sip.
“Oh, I guess we’re playing already,” Hoseok says, also lifting his cup to his lips.
You keep your cup lowered. “Yoongi, the point is to make others drink, not yourself.”
His eyes glimmer. “Well, where’s the fun in that?”
“Me next,” Hoseok purses his lips. “Um, never have I ever… uh… kissed someone under the mistletoe.”
All three of you drink.
“Okay, I guess we’re doing a holiday theme, so… never have I ever gone to Christmas dinner with my family while completely stoned.”
Hoseok drinks while you grin. He rolls his eyes. “Laugh if you want, but it was the only way to survive. Anyway… never have I ever given a mall Santa a blow job.”
Yoongi takes another sip.
“Seriously?” you squeak.
He shrugs. “I liked his beard. And I told you that in confidence,” he points at Hoseok, as the blonde man’s honking laughter fills the room.
The game continues this way for a while, the three of you cashing in on the knowledge you’ve gained over your years of friendship to force one another to drink. As the bowl drains, the mood in the room gets sillier, the questions slide from holiday-themed to just generally explicit, and you start to wonder what will run out faster - the eggnog or the secrets you’ve kept tucked away about your roommates.
“Um…” you glance at the ceiling, slumped against the back of the couch, trying to think of another question. Yoongi has shifted as he’s grown drunk, sliding towards you so that his arm rests against yours, while Hoseok has turned sideways in his seat, his legs hanging over the arm. He’s currently staring at the wall, face redder than the Santa’s hat he wore last night. “Hobi. You good over there?”
He tilts his head slowly, like he’s really thinking about it. Then he favors you with one of his brightest smiles, the one that makes his eyes disappear. “Yes.”
You and Yoongi giggle, and Yoongi nudges you with his arm. “Come on, go.”
“Okay, okay. Never have I ever…” Your attention is diverted by the warmth of Yoongi’s hand, where it lightly traces wobbly circles on your thigh. It’s nothing new, the two of you cuddling on the couch like this. Both of your roommates are pretty touchy-feely and so are you. But the whisky and the game have fired up the horny part of your brain, and his touch is only adding fuel to the flames. Doesn’t help that you’ve always found him attractive. “Never have I said someone else’s name in bed.“
Hoseok drinks as Yoongi laughs.
“Look, it was an honest mistake - Soomin is really close to Sungmin!”
“Yeah, but Soomin’s brother was named Sungmin!” you shout. “She was sucking your dick and you called her by her brother’s name!”
Hoseok shrugs. “Well, maybe I had to think about him while she was doing that, because she was so shit at it. And he wasn’t.”
“Holy shit, Hobi,” you cackle, “you’re ice cold.” He just grins, shooting you a wink, and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Why must both of your roommates be so hot?
Yoongi’s up. “Never have I ever been fingered on the bus.”
You shoot him a glare before taking a drink.
“Whoa, public fingerbang?” Hoseok’s eyes widen. He slips out of his chair, crawling towards the table to refill his drink. “I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist.”
“I’m not. Not really. I mean, sometimes things just kinda… happen… you know?” You set your glass on the table. “Did one of you crank the heat up? It’s really warm in here.” Tugging your hoodie off, you toss it on the back of the couch.
“It’s not warm, you’re just drunk,” Yoongi informs you.
“‘M not drunk, I’m pleasantly tipsy,” you state. You’re also losing your mind a bit now that Yoongi has switched things up, raking his fingernails down your thigh instead of lightly drawing shapes.
Hoseok, still on the floor, has also noticed the motion, his gaze fixed on Yoongi’s hand. His eyes bounce between the two of you for a moment before he speaks. “Never have I ever messed around with a roommate.”
Furtive glances fly around the room. No one drinks.
The drunken giddiness that once permeated the room is gone now. Instead, the air feels thick, almost hazy with a strange kind of frustration. You didn’t really notice it building until now, but it’s almost unmistakable.
You bite your lip, wondering if your next question is too much, asking it anyway. “Never have I ever masturbated while thinking about a roommate.”
All three of you drink.
Yoongi keeps the rim of his glass pressed to his lips, looking deep in thought as he ponders his next question. “Never have I ever wished a roommate would catch me masturbating.”
There’s a slight pause, and then you all drink. As if a switch has been thrown, the game speeds up, questions flying faster and faster.
“Never have I ever wanted to go down on a roommate.” Everyone drinks.
“Never have I ever wanted a roommate to go down on me.” Everyone drinks.
Yoongi, then Hoseok, then you. Each of you asking questions that are no longer pointed scenarios meant to make each other drink, but thinly veiled wishes coming to light. And every sip reveals that these wishes, these desires, are shared.
Hoseok slides around the table as the rounds continue rapid-fire, until he’s close enough to brush his hand against your bare leg. Between his fingers dancing up your calf, and Yoongi’s hand squeezing above your knee, you feel like your body is on fire.
“Never have I ever wanted to fuck a roommate,” Yoongi rasps, voice pitching low. Everyone drinks.
Hoseok’s fingers lock around your ankle. “Never have I ever wanted to get fucked by a roommate.”
Again, everyone drinks. You can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck, never have I ever wanted a roommate to kiss me,” you say, your words breaking as your question becomes a plea. Thankfully, Yoongi recognizes this, and he cups the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss.
You suck the whisky from his tongue as he plunges it between your lips. A groan sounds from deep in your throat. The hand not holding your head has now run beneath your shirt, blazing a path directly for your breast.
Hoseok hisses from the floor, gripping your ankle tightly enough to draw your attention. When you turn your head, he rises up on his knees to meet your lips. Where Yoongi’s kiss was deep and smooth, Hoseok’s is fiery and sharp, teeth biting as he slides his mouth down to your neck.
“Never have I ever wanted a roommate to choke me,” Yoongi husks, and Hoseok pulls away from your throat to stare at Yoongi as Yoongi grabs his glass to take a sip.
“Fuck, you’re into that?” you breathe, chest rising faster. Yoongi nods, and Hoseok straightens up, moving until he’s directly between the two of you on the couch.
Hoseok holds up his glass. “Never have I ever choked a roommate,” he smirks, tossing back the last of his drink.
The two men stare at each other. The tension between them makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Then they both lean forward, moving as if one until their mouths crash together. Yoongi whimpers when Hoseok’s fingers lace into his long locks, tugging to make Yoongi tip his head back, exposing his throat.
As Hoseok’s fingers wrap around Yoongi’s neck, you snatch up your glass and raise it over your head in a cheers to yourself. “Never have I ever watched my roommate choke my other roommate.” And you take a swig.
Yoongi’s hips buck upwards as Hoseok begins to squeeze, and your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his pants. Experimentally, not wanting to interrupt the frenzied kissing happening in front of you, you trail your hand along Yoongi’s thigh, close to but not touching his dick. He immediately jerks to the right, trying to thrust his hard-on into your outstretched palm.
Hoseok finally stops trying to swallow Yoongi’s tongue and lifts his head. His fingers relax a little. “Want more?” he asks the other man.
“Yes,” Yoongi exhales, voice barely a croak, and his eyes dart to you. “Touch me, please,” he moans, and then he curls his fingers into Hoseok’s shirt, yanking the man towards him for another kiss.
You quickly free his dick from his pants. He’s so warm in your spit-soaked hand, cock practically throbbing under your fingers as you start to stroke him. His hips jolt upwards when you tease the sensitive skin at the head of his dick, and he whines into Hoseok’s mouth, who groans in reply.
“Fuck, you two are so hot,” you mutter.
Hoseok’s fingers are once again digging into Yoongi’s throat, cutting off the man’s air, and Yoongi starts rutting into your hand faster than you’re jerking him off, so instead of you giving him a hand job he’s basically using your hand as a sex toy, and the thought of him using you in any way has you panting, thighs squeezing together in desperation. Hoseok notices your needy shuffling and he rolls his lips up Yoongi’s cheek to speak.
“Shit, you enjoying the show?” His darkened eyes and cocky grin sends a fresh wave of desire dripping out of you. “You’re next. If you want.”
“I want,” you mewl. “Fuck, I want!” You don’t even know what it is he means, making out or choking or more than that, but you want it anyway.
“Good.” The fingers twisted into Yoongi’s hair flex, tipping his head so Yoongi is forced to look Hoseok directly in the eye. “Just gotta get our boy here to come, and then it’ll be your turn. I bet he can’t wait to watch you come. Isn’t that right?”
Yoongi moans at Hoseok’s question. So do you. Hoseok grins, tightening his hand again. You surge forward and press your lips to Yoongi’s. You can feel his hand groping at your breast again as you lick into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Hoseok gives one last hard press.
When he releases his hold, Yoongi falls apart. His spray coats your hand, dripping thick and hot down your fingers while you stroke him through his orgasm. It’s not until his hips go still again that you stop.
Yoongi gasps as air rushes back into his lungs. “Oh shit!” He collapses against the armrest, breathing heavily. Hoseok sits back on his heels, looking quite pleased with himself.
Your hand is still coated in Yoongi’s release, another mess you should clean up, but again you don’t care. “Now what?” you ask your roommates impatiently.
Yoongi grins, reaching for his glass. “Never have I ever watched my roommates fuck.”
Holy shit, Sunny! These just keep getting hotter 🥵 The way this ramped up from Never Have I Ever!?! So good!!!! I don’t know if I’ll survive (but I certainly want to try 🫠)
Genre: holiday, smut, established relationship, non-Idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, kissing, use of restraints (silk scarves), teasing, use of sex toys, edging/orgasm denial, anal sex (m receiving), coming untouched, preestablished kinks and boundaries, use of traffic light system, whiny Yoongi, bratty Yoongi too honestly, implied oral sex (gn reader receiving)
Word Count: 500
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: Gift wrapping with your boyfriend goes a little awry
A/N: I don't write nearly enough whiny Yoongi. 🥴
I originally intended for these Kinkmas fics to be drabbles. Some of them got away from me. Not this one, though! 500 words on the dot! Just a little taste. 😉
Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕
Day 1 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 3
It starts, as these things usually do, with Yoongi.
You’re on the floor, wrapping gifts, while Yoongi lounges on the couch. Like always, his hands keep trailing over your shoulders, down your back, anywhere he can touch without getting up.
“Come sit with me,” he pleads. You kiss him, but shake your head.
“Gotta finish wrapping first.” As usual, you’ve waited until the night before, and now you’re suffering.
So he steals your tape. You snatch it back. Then he takes your scissors. When he reaches for your ribbon, you shoot him a look.
“Yoongi, stop, I need to finish! Quit taking my shit, or I’ll, uh-”
“You’ll what?” Yoongi tongues his cheek, eyeing the dispenser. “Tape my hands together?”
“Ha! Being bound isn’t exactly a punishment for you, babe.”
Yoongi smirks. “That’s true, love. So… how would you punish me, then?”
Twenty minutes later, his smirk is gone, as he lies on his back, panting wildly, cock hard and flushed between his legs.
You drag his favorite dildo back towards his rim, slowly tracing there. He whines, trying to move his hips enough so it’ll slip inside, but he can’t slide any further down the bed thanks to the scarves binding him to the bedposts.
Twice now, you’ve brought him to the brink of climax, only to stop each time. After a quick check on his color (“Green, love, so fucking green”), you insert the tip of the toy, fucking him shallowly.
“Ahhhh,” he moans, head lifting to watch you. “Love, please.”
You know that whine. He’s close to coming undone.
“You need something, babe?” Grinning wickedly, you rake your nails down his thigh, loving how he squirms at the sensation.
“You know I do,” he groans. Silvery beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, collecting on the ends of his blond hair. He twists his wrists again, but the knots hold.
“Well, you know I needed to do something earlier, and someone wouldn’t let me do it.”
Yoongi nearly cries with relief as you plunge the dildo into his aching hole, thrusting it in deeper.
“So I just had to make sure you knew what it was like, to be denied like that.”
He spreads his trembling legs wider, begging for more.
“But I think the message’s been received, so…” The moment the dildo hits his prostate, Yoongi arches his back, sobbing your name. “Is this what you needed? Just wanted to be fucked nice and deep, babe?”
“Yes, y-yes, please!” Yoongi chokes on his words, writhing as you lean forward, driving the dildo in over and over, until his untouched cock begins to spurt, thick white ropes coating his stomach.
“Shit,” he hisses. You stroke his hair while he hums, eyes closed, coming down. “Too good to me, love.”
“I try.” You reach for the knots.
“Not yet,” he rasps, corner of his mouth lifting as your favorite smirk reappears. “Let me be good to you now.” He licks his lips.
Genre: holiday, smut, enemies to lovers, Coworkers!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: drinking, kissing, swearing, face riding, oral sex (f receiving), tongue fucking, grinding, fingering, ass-slapping, fighting while face-sitting because that's what e2l is all about, blatant panty stealing, Taehyung is a cocky menace, Dynamite era blond Taehyung is the look
Word Count: 1.6K
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: Your work rival has an unusual Secret Santa gift for you this year
A/N: Welcome to my 12 Lays of Kinkmas! Thank you to @goodsoop for the brilliant prompts. First up is a little e2l with Taehyung being a menace as usual.
Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕
Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 2
“A coupon book? Are you kidding me?!”
Taehyung merely gazes at you with that annoyingly calm expression of his, the one you loathe, while you pry the booklet out of the box, holding it by the edges as if its very existence offends you. Which it kind of does, seeing as how it’s a gift from your least favorite coworker. And a fucking cheap one at that. This man waltzes around in designer clothes, gets ridiculously expensive haircuts, and drives an overpriced high end luxury vehicle. In your line of work as pharma reps, image is everything. And yet this is the Secret Santa gift he gives you?!
“I made it myself. They say the best gifts come from the heart,” he informs you with a slight pout of his plump lips, brushing his honeyed blond locks out of his face.
“I’d buy that if I thought you had a heart,” you retort. Kim Taehyung is a master manipulator. He knows exactly how to play your customers. It’s why he’s consistently one of the two top reps at your company.
But that other top rep? Is you. And you’re too smart to fall for his wounded puppy routine.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Just take a look at what’s in there,” he insists, pointing with the hand holding his cocktail, making the ice clink against the glass. He props himself against one of the chairs in front of your desk, the sleeves on his black shirt rolled up to display sinewy forearms that flex as he raises his drink to his lips. Despite your disdain for this man, you have to hand it to him - even in a simple button-down and slacks tonight, he still looks rather luxurious.
The revelry of the holiday party still raging throughout the floor is slightly muted in here with the door half-shut. You’d ducked into your office to escape that skeevy HR rep from the fifth floor who kept complimenting your dress a little too much, only to be surprised when Taehyung had followed you in, the silver gift box in his large hands as shiny as the rings adorning his fingers.
Curiosity gets the better of you and you flip through the book. The coupons are simple, just stark white text on black paper. Taehyung wanders around your desk, perching on the corner so he can observe you closely while you read.
“‘Good for one Starbucks run.’ Does that mean you’re buying, or does that mean you’ll go but make me pay?”
“Didn’t realize I had to spell it out for you, but that means I’d buy.”
His condescending tone makes you sneer. “Mmm. I should hope so. Oh, now come on - ‘Good for one hour of mentoring’?” You give him a look.
“What?” The corner of his mouth twists into a tiny smirk. “That’s actually a priceless deal. I wouldn’t give my sales secrets away to just anyone for free.”
“You’re unbelievable. Congratulations on doing the absolute bare minimum for my Christmas g-” You break off as you turn to the last coupon in the thin book. Reread the words several times. Then glance up at your coworker. “I take it back. Thanks for giving me a completely useless gift.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Why would you give me a coupon that’s no good?” And you hold up the final piece of paper, upon which is inscribed, ‘Good for one mindblowing orgasm, no strings attached.’
“No good?!” His pitch rises just as his eyebrow does. “That’s a serious offer.”
“I’m not doubting that you’re offering, Taehyung,” you purr, voice smooth as silk. “I’m doubting that you can guarantee it.”
He doesn’t respond to that, just taps his glass with one long finger while his dark eyes study your face. Then he stands and walks towards the door. An insult is on the tip of your tongue as you watch him retreat, until you realize he’s not leaving.
He’s locking the door.
You stay silent as he slowly strolls back around your desk. There’s a charge in the air as he places his hands on the arm rests of your chair and leans over until you’re face to face.
“Would you like a free sample?” he murmurs, lips close enough to yours that he inhales your shocked gasp. “I’m feeling… generous.”
It’s not necessarily that you want to fuck your annoying coworker. It’s just that you can’t pass up an opportunity to prove him wrong, especially about something he’d brag about like this.
That’s what you try to convince yourself, anyway, as you reach out and roll the top button of his shirt between your fingers. “Go on, then.”
He wastes no time, taking you by the hand and pulling you into his arms. His lips are firmer than they look, keenly sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and lapping at it. You whimper, melting against him, making him laugh.
“I knew you’d be easy like this,” he hums, one hand sliding under your thigh to lift it, wrap it around him. “Like putty in my hands.”
“Fuck off,” you grumble roughly. The heat behind your words isn’t anger. It’s pure, unbridled lust, finally released after years of being pent-up. You’ll likely regret this in the morning, but right now, all you want is him. And he clearly wants you too, judging by the sizeable bulge you keep rubbing against. “Don’t you have something you should be doing right now? Something to prove?”
“So impatient,” he clucks, shaking his head. “Fine. You wanna get right down to it?” His hands slide under your skirt as he cocks a brow. You nod, and he grips the waistband of your stockings, pulling them to the floor as he sinks to his knees. He peels your panties off next, and after you step out of them, tucks the sodden satin into his pocket with a wicked grin.
“Pervert,” you hiss, trying to hide your delight.
Your coworker just smirks harder as he arranges himself on his back. When you don’t move from where you stand, he tips his head to give you a questioning look. “Are you waiting for an invitation, or….”
You drop down, shins pressing into the carpet on either side of his head. “God, I can’t wait to smother you.”
“Then have at it almmmmph.” With very little patience, you lower yourself, cutting off his retort as your cunt rubs against the lower half of his face. His lips kiss against yours rather gently, but then his tongue slides out, wiggling over your clit with stunning strength before he sucks the bud into his mouth, and you nearly topple over in surprise.
“Fuck!” Hand slapping against your desk, you struggle to hold yourself upright, the tough fibers of your office’s cheap carpet scratching at your knees. He does the wiggle move over and over until your eyes start to roll back in your head. “So good, Taehyung!”
It feels unnatural to praise your coworker. Thankfully for once, he doesn’t respond with his signature smirk or a smartass comment. Instead, he simply hums, burying his face further as he fucks you with his slippery tongue.
Taehyung’s strong fingers dig into your thighs, urging you to slide forward. Groaning, you start to rock, shamelessly grinding against his mouth. “Yes, just like that!”
He replaces his tongue with one of his long fingers, searching for and finding your sweet spot with uncanny speed. As his finger strokes rapidly, you mewl like a helpless kitten, and he laughs. “What did I say? Like putty.”
“And what did I say? Get on with it!” you pant, doubling over until your palms hit the floor. In this position, your clit lines up perfectly with his lips, and he pulls the aching nub back into his mouth. “I was promised ah, shit, oh my god!” Your taunt falls apart as Taehyung quickly wrings an orgasm from you. You cry out, hand threading through his caramel locks while you ride out your high on his soaked face.
Collapsing onto your elbows, you try to catch your breath, jumping in shock when Taehyung slaps your ass. “Hey!”
“That means ‘get off,’” he deadpans, shimmying out from under you.
“No thanks, just did.”
Taehyung merely gazes at you with that irksome blank look. “Was that sample to your liking?” he asks, wiping his chin with your panties before pushing them back into his pocket.
You shrug, the picture of nonchalance. “It was satisfactory. I suppose.”
“Good. Merry Christmas,” his tongue caresses your name like it caressed your clit. “When you’re ready to cash those in, you know where to find me.” Turning on his heel, he grabs what remains of his drink and exits your office.
As the door closes behind him, you flop bonelessly into your chair, relief washing over you, because you were two seconds away from offering to suck his cock. And you're already pretty embarrassed at how fast he was able to get you off. There’s only so much shame and regret you’re capable of processing at once.
The coupon book lies open on your desk. You glance at the orgasm coupon for a moment. Something dawns on you. Grabbing the book, you hastily roll your stockings back on, and then leave your office, heading for the copier room. You may not have proven him wrong, but you’ve won anyway.
What good salesman forgets to add ‘Limit one per customer?’
12 Lays of Kinkmas Prompt: face riding, secret santa
Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader/You/Yn
Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI.
Word Count: 2352
Genre: drabble, smut, one shot, non-idol au, friends to fwb.
Warnings: explicit language (as always, I curse like a sailor), angelic Park Jimin (a true warning), some manhandling.
Sexually Explicit Content: kissing, oral, face riding, casual sex between friends, fingering, female orgasm. Let me know if I missed anything.
Summary: Your Secret Santa has done so incredibly well on your gifts this year, you just need to find out who they are to personally thank them. Only…they’re requesting more than coffee.
🗝️ Note: Happy first Lay of Kinkmas loves! I am down bad for this Jimin. NOT BETA READ.
Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own BTS or the members.
Read it on Ao3!
The Park house is thrumming with loud holiday music and festive positivity. You wander out of the kitchen having grabbed yourself a second cup of the pomegranate margarita punch.
“Enjoying yourself?” A warm voice calls to you.
Turning, you find an angelic Park Jimin reclined against the wall, observing you over the rim of his glass. Plush lips coated in a vibrant red gloss, so tempting that just the sight of them had you wondering what they might taste like.
“Jiminie! I’ve been on the hunt for someone.” You inquire drifting over to lean against the wall parallel to your friend. He cocks a brow for you to continue, stretching his legs to frame your feet with his own heeled boots. “My Secret Santa.”
Jimin’s face flickers with surprise under the light strung hallway, but he recovers it quickly with a sly smile.
“They’re secret for a reason, love.” He drawls. Throwing back the rest of his ruby colored drink that mirrored the one currently sweating in your hand.
“Ugh! I know, but this year my Santa was exceptionally good. Even my own partners have never gotten me such meaningful gifts.” You drop your head back against the wall, squeezing Jimin’s foot between yours.
“What are you going to do when you find your Santa?” Jimin peeks over at you from under his ashy colored bangs.
“Take them for coffee, buy them dinner, something to show my appreciation.” You hum, taking a sip of your drink, before switching it to the other hand and rubbing the dampness on your evergreen velvet skirt.
Jimin’s boot taps yours, “what if they want something else?”
“Well honestly, my Santa could have whatever they want at this point. They found an identical ring to the one I had lost from my grandmother.”
“The mother of pearl.” Jimin smiles softly to himself, as realization dawns on your face.
“It’s you!” You thrust your drink at him in an elated accusation.
Jimin’s eyes widened in shock at his slip up and having been found out. He lets out a musical chuckle, before righting himself. Standing to his full height, suddenly an inch from your body. The flaps of his plaid, wool blazer framing your body at this proximity. You can’t help but stare at his perfectly full lips, as he watches your face with hooded eyes.
“So, I can have anything?” He braces both hands against the wall, thumbs skimming your shoulders as his breath crests your ear. Body already warmed from the liquor in your veins was now accompanied by your growing arousal.
“Jimina-” You breathe and his lips graze yours, giving you the briefest taste of his cinnamon flavored gloss.
“Meet me in the bedroom.” His eyes linger on yours, waiting, as you finally give the subtlest nod of agreement.
Hands ghosting over the curve of your waist as he turns to head toward his room. Gulping the rest of your drink, you follow quickly after him. Shutting and locking the door behind you as Jimin folds his festive blazer over the back of his overstuffed reading chair. The thin crème button up he was wearing doing little to hide the tattoos that covered his body underneath.
Jimin turns to you as his daintily ring covered fingers begin to unbutton his shirt, his eyes darkening under your blatant stare. “See something you like”
“You know I love your hands Jimina, especially when you wear rings.” All restraint out the window. Park Jimin was your Secret Santa and this is how he wanted you to thank him. Although you were pretty sure this was actually just another gift from him. Several of your friends had slept with Jimin in your youth, but never you. Always with someone, the time never aligning, until tonight.
Jimin smiles wickedly, trailing his fingertips down his body as the shirt fluttered open. He shrugs out of his shirt, satisfied with his teasing as you gazed at him with parted lips, clear plastic of your empty cup crumpled in hand.
“Set the cup on the credenza.” His gaze flicks from your eyes to the cup, to the long table on your right. Tossing the shirt to join his blazer Jimin slips onto the side of his bed, stomach rippling as he bends to slip his boots off. Hastily you drop the cup on the table and drift towards him.
Boots set aside, Jimin collects you between his open knees. Hands bumping up the curve of your ass, pinkies hooking the hem of your skirt as he goes. Jimin’s head falls back between his shoulders and he gazes up at you, swirls of his own want and need within.
“You can say no.” Jimin tugs you into his lap then, legs straddling his hips.
“What if I don't want to?” You breathe against his mouth, wanting another hit of his cinnamon flavored lips.
Jimin lets out a cry before fisting one hand in the back of your hair and mashing his lips to yours. You devour him right back, suckling his lips between yours. Jimin moans into your mouth, opening his for your tongue to dive in and lick across his succulent insides. His hand in your hair and the one on your hip tighten, as Jimin sucks on your tongue. Pulling a moan from your chest and leaking arousal from your cunt.
“Fuck.” You press your forehead to his gasping for air, as his bare chest heaves under your palms.
“Take your shoes, tights and panties off. Leave the skirt.” Jimin breathes, giving you a quick peck from his now bare and swollen lips.
You slip from his hold to comply, unzipping and kicking off your boots. Jimin squats to help you step out of your tights. The look of him slipping to his knees in front of you, earrings shimmering in the low light of the lamp as he shook his hair back to look up at you, nearly made you moan. An absolute ethereal angel of a human, and his eyes screamed that he wanted you.
His fingers hooked into the lace band of your panties, each of his fingers lighting a fire in your skin as they skimmed down to your ankles with the garment in tow.
You shift your hips to step out, groaning as the slick of your arousal shifts with the movement. Thankful that your skirt had fallen down to cover you again. Jimin’s lips part with a low moan, eyes locked on your barely covered core.
“I can smell you.” Jimin breathes, standing.
Your nipples peak at the sheer amount of lust in his eyes, expecting him to devour you in another kiss. But you should know better, Park Jimin is the universe's biggest tease. He wags his brows at you, over smiling eyes before slipping onto the bed, pulling himself back against the headboard with strong arms. Basking under your wanton gaze as it glides up his body; up his well muscled thighs, restricted by the tight dress pants, the bulge that rested along his left thigh, trapped by the belt at his waist and up the rivets of his abdomen glossing over the black ink of his tattoos, licking your lips at the sight of his beautiful nipples and finally landing on his face.
“Enjoying the view?” Jimin grins widely at you, arms folding behind his head. Causing his muscles to bulge in a way that has a silent moan falling from your lips. “Come on then.” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and you didn’t give a damn. Park was beautiful and he knew exactly how to use his beauty to get what he wanted, tonight that happened to be you.
You do as you're told, slightly confused as he still wore his pants…and socks. Slowly, just as cheeky as Jimin can be, you slip a leg over his hips. Letting the weight of your ass press into his contained arousal as your fingers fold under the band of his pants.
“No, love. Up here.” Jimin says, eyes on fire as he brings his hands down to graze the tops of your thighs.
“Where?” You asked confused. Rising off of him slightly, poised to move.
He smirks at you bemused, “my face.”
“Jimina, no.” You whine as your ass snaps back to its previous seat on his pelvis and Jimin’s head presses into the pillows as a frustrated moan rips through his open mouth.
“Fuck.” He rubs a hand down his face taking a deep breath. Before tossing the other pillows off the bed, all but the one under his head. His determined gaze meets yours and you stutter through an embarrassed rebuttal.
“Jimin you’re too small, I’ll crush y-” Your sentence is cut off as he hauls you up his chest, you clutch at the headboard to brace yourself as he slots your legs over his shoulders with expert hands. Jimin leaves you panting at his display of strength. The way he just manhandled you shooting more arousal to your now perfectly displayed pussy. Shifting your hips back to see his face.
Jimin cocks a brow at you, “this is how your Santa wishes to be repaid.” His fingers skim up your ass then, lifting your skirt so it tucks neatly below your belly button. “Can I taste you?”
You give a nod accompanied by a breathy sigh and Jimin smiles before disappearing between your thighs. Tongue breaking the seal of your lower lips with one wet drag.
“Oh shit.” You bow slightly towards the headboard at the feeling.
“Sit on me.” Jimin hums below.
Shuffling your knees out, you comply, stopping when you feel the bump of his small nose. His breathy laugh shoots a puff of warmth across your folds, and you have to restrain yourself from pressing into it. Hands biting into his headboard already. Jimin splits your lips open with two fingers, the cold of his rings biting into the warmth of your womanhood.
“Fuck, Jimin.” You shudder in the slightest.
“Mmm, haven’t even gotten my whole mouth on you. Yet you’re dripping.” The smugness in his voice wrapping around your shaking thighs as he presses his mouth to the bead of your clit. You nearly black out, the fullness of his lips cushioning the bundle of nerves completely.
“Mmm.” You bite back the groan through gritted teeth.
Jimin chuckles again, before licking with the whole of his tongue from your clenched opening to the valley of your folds.
“Ahhh god.” The moan slips out your parted lips and the urge to thrust into his face becomes unbearable.
Jimin grunts into your cunt, tired of straining to taste you. His arms wrap around your thighs, and he spreads you completely onto his waiting mouth. Moaning as your hips buck into the swirl of his tongue.
“Jimin.” The soft cry leaves your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your core, tongue hooking into the front folds and making you tremble against his chin.
He keeps the stroke of his tongue consistent until your hips are rocking in tandem. Then he returns to your swollen clit, licking fat, wet loops earning himself another gush of arousal into his waiting mouth. His hands tighten on your thighs as he moans greedily. Lost completely to the talent of Park Jimin’s mouth you forgo all earlier worries and sink back to rock your hips against his mouth. Your own hands dropping to clasp his, Jimin accepts your fingers, intertwining them with his own. Effectively binding you to his face as he scrapes lightly his teeth over your clit.
You barely recognize your own voice and the scream you let out only for it to fade quickly into the booming music of the holiday party still going on outside. The groan Jimin lets out a groan so deep it vibrates his chest and your ass.
“Fuckkk, Park.” You moan as your orgasm threatens to spill over. His hands squeeze yours, letting you know he heard your praise. Jimin latches onto your clit again suckling the bundle between his lips, your body snapping in sync with each flick of his tongue. “Jimin…” the whine slipping from your bitten lips.
Jimin moans into you again, releasing your clit to roll a glossed tongue around the hills of your womanhood. Your hips buck quicker, and he does it again.
“Just like that, I’m so close.” You beg shamelessly. Park wanted this as a thank you, you were going to give him the best response he’d ever gotten.
Jimin hums in acknowledgment, arms tightening to press you into his face. Jaw working your orgasm out so intensely that you wanted nothing more in the whole world than to close your thighs to cum.
His name falls from your lips in a breathless chant, as he slips his tongue inside your trembling core again and lets out the deepest groan. One that vibrates all the way to your cervix and snaps everything inside you like a rubber band.
“FUCK!” You scream, unable to hold back from slamming your pelvis against his mouth any longer. His hands squeeze yours and you feel the shape of his rings stamping your palms. Arousal gushes out of you and Jimin is quick to lap it away, as your brain levitates above you.
You cum so hard that the arch from your orgasm causes your spine to pop, before you fold back over the headboard and the still assaulting Jimin. Body tightening in a different way, fearing you were flooding his entire face.
“Jimin, you can stop.” You whine as his soft but whole licks send an echo of orgasm through your body. He releases your hands first and you collapse shakily against the headboard, shuffling your useless legs down to sink underneath his armpits.
“Hi.” Jimin smiles widely, face shining with your release. You let out a groan before cupping his face to kiss that devilish mouth. Jimin whines into your kiss, rolling you over to slant his body up yours. “Mmm, best thank you ever.” Jimin grunts as you laugh into his mouth, body thrumming in post orgasmic bliss.
genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.
word count: 10.3k
contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀
A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.
the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜
this is now (finally) on AO3!
~*~
You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.
Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.
You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.
“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.
“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.
“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.
The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.
“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”
You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.
“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.
Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.
“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.
You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.
“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.
“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”
You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.
Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.
Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.
Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.
You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”
“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”
He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”
The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.
“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.
“Fine.”
The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.
You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”
Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.
He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.
You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”
He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”
You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”
“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”
Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.
“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.
He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.
“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”
He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.
You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.
“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.
“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.
“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”
He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”
At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.
You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?
Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.
He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”
You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”
He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”
You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.
“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.
You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.
“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.
Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.
When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.
You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.
Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.
He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.
“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.
“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.
“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.
You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.
You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”
It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.
His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.
You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.
For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.
Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”
You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”
He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.
“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”
You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.
He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”
The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.
Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.
“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.
“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”
His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.
Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.
You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.
“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.
It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”
He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
“Then prove it.”
Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”
You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”
In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.
“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.
“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.
It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.
You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.
Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.
You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.
Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.
“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”
“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.
“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.
It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.
You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.
But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.
For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.
“I told you I don’t like to lose.”
Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.
The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”
You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.
You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”
The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.
“Is that really how you see me?”
Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.
“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”
He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”
Your heart sinks. “Do what?”
He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”
That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.
“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.
“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."
You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”
“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”
The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.
Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”
His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”
“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.
“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.
You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”
He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”
You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”
His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”
“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”
The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”
You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”
He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.
You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”
Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.
“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”
He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.
In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.
“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”
Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.
“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”
He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.
“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.
“Then say yes.”
You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?
You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.
“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”
And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.
Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”
He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.
“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.
Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.
You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.
He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.
You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.
Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.
His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.
You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."
He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.
You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.
Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.
So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.
You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.
He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.
The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.
Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.
He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.
His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.
“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.
You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.
He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.
You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.
But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.
He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.
“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”
His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”
Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.
“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.
He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.
It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.
You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”
It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.
“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.
“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.
Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.
Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.
That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.
“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.
He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.
He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?
Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.
He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.
As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.
“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.
You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.
Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.
His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.
Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.
You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.
Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.
You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.
At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.
“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”
You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.
“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”
Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.
You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.
“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”
You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”
He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”
“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”
He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”
Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.
“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.
This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.
You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.
“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.
He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.
You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.
But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.
“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.
His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one.
Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.
His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.
The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.
You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.
Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.
He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.
It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.
But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.
“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.
His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.
You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.
You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.
A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”
“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”
“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.
You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”
There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”
He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”
You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”
His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”
You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.
“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”
“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”
“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”
You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.
“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.
I stumbled upon this on AO3 and I’m REELING! Not just because the smut is mind-blowing perfection (because boy is it ever), but also this is the perfect JK frat boy. He’s down for fun frat antics but doesn’t take it too seriously. Add on the fact he’s smoking hot AND respectful of the reader and her feelings? I don’t think it gets better than this.
JK’s tongue piercing in this will be haunting me for the foreseeable future RIP
pleaseeeEEE PLEASE write a drabble of hot emo hobi with the long hair falling in your face as he's above youuuuuuuu ... Begging is not beneath me
Ok, normally I would not do this since I am not currently taking requests, but I’m working through my feelings for Hobipalooza and it turns out they’re mostly 😵💫🥴🥵 so I gotta get them out….
Smutty drabble below the cut…
"Fuck," you moan as Hoseok pounds you into the soft sheets of his bed. The trailer rocks around you from the power of his hips. You've no idea how he has the energy to fuck you like this after tonight's performance, but you're not about to ask and break the moment.
He lays above you, propped up by his elbows on either side of your head, staring down at where the two of you meet, but at your moans, he glances up. His eyes are obscured by his long dark curls, which drip with the exertion of his movements, but his smirk is obvious.
"Is that good, baby? 'm I treating this pussy right?"
You groan at his words, wanting more more more of him. So you slide your fingers through his thick hair, wrapping the strands around your fingers, and tug.
He stills for a second.
You immediately apologize. "Fuck, I'm sorry, did that h-"
"Do it again." The command is low, a deep rumble that makes you clench around his cock.
"What?"
He reaches underneath you with a gloved hand and slides a pillow under your hips, tilting you so that his next pump hits you deep enough to make you gasp. Then he does it again as his other hand finds your laced fingers, urging them to tangle more. "I said, do it again."
So you do. You pull on his sweaty locks, swallowing his depraved groans with your mouth. Wet strands brush your cheeks as you kiss away his sounds, until his deep thrusts push you over your edge and you turn your head away, air rushing to fill your lungs so you can scream it back out in the form of his name. His rhythm slips and he coats your walls with his climax, but his hand stays on yours, and you stroke his hair as he collapses on you and even after, as your eyes both close and your breathing deepens to sleep.
Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader, ft. Yunho (Ateez) x Female Reader
Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff, a dash of Angst, a pinch of Smut
Summary: Bringing your boyfriend home to meet your friends is somehow both easier and harder than you thought it would be.
Warnings: Making out, a little over the pants action, implied smut, drinking, swearing, Hobi is a delightful mess, Yunho is a sweetheart, Seokjin is an angel, Bug is grateful for all the amazing men in her life
Drabble: 6 of 17
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Yay chapter 6! I’m sorry again for the wait - it seems like life and my anxiety just don’t want to let up this year 😣 Anyway, I really hope you all like this chapter! It ended up going in a much different direction than I thought it was going to, and I’m super happy with how it turned out. It also meant switching the title because “Jealousy” didn’t really fit the bill anymore. As always, endless thanks to @hannahbee12719 for being my wonderful banner maker and beta reader and for coming up with the new title! And thank you so, so much to everyone who’s reading along and leaving feedback. You have no idea how much your encouragement means to me and how much it inspires me. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy! 💜💜💜
Ch. 5 / Series Masterlist
His lips are warm and soft as they slide down your neck and make a home against your collarbone. When you shiver beneath his devilish tongue, you can feel his smirk against your heated skin.
Ahhhh more of that sweet slow burn goodness for my two favorite idiots to lovers 😍 Yunho is such a good choice!!! With Seokjin being so far away at college and dating another girl, how could Bug NOT fall for Yunho? I, too, would be jumping his bones in the car at any available opportunity. Then he blends in so well with her friends and that’s so wonderful 🥹
Of course I’m still pulling for Seokjin, but my lovable idiots need more time to figure themselves and their communication out. Now is really not the right time with them being so far apart anyway.
I am living for all those sweet little sentiments that show just how deeply Bug and Jin care for each other: Seokjin wanting to surprise Bug, Bug not wanting to hurt Seokjin with Yunho, Seokjin being a top notch best friend and making sure Yunho is good enough for Bug, and the pièce de resistance “It wasn’t the same.” 😭💕 I love them with my whole being and if anyone comes for Bug or Seokjin they’ll have to answer to me 😤
I’m so enjoying following Bug’s and Jin’s journey to one another. Seeing all their love and trust they’ve built up over the years will make the time they do finally open themselves to each other that much more for-curlingly satisfying 💜
