*** On Fire (m)
> genre : smut, pwp
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f) x ot6
> total words : 4.9k
> warnings/content : established relationship, voyeurism, exhibitionism, penetrative intercourse, impregnation kink, spitting, some dirty talk, low-key crack, this is filthy (im so sorry bangtan), bad editing
You had been going at it since the fucking beginning of this evening. It started in what you thought to be subtle touches and shared heated gazes. A hand brushing over one’s covered cock, a bigger one pretending to accidentally slip too high up under a skirt. You sincerely believed yourselves to be discreet enough and would only whisper honey-dipped obscenities against the very shell of the ears, quiet enough for no one else to hear.
The cameras luckily had missed it, the uncountable number of people they'd met and had to shake hands with and bow to did not notice either. However, they had not missed one second of it all. Every single one of them. Because there were heavy sighs and suspicious lingering absences from the conversations. Because you stood too close to each other to an extent it narrowly dipped in the innapropriate. You were trying to satiate a craving you felt for each other, as decently as possible. It was obvious to them.
Soon enough, the event had ended and you were all crowding up a van on your way home, Jungkook and you not withholding any longer the urges to indulge into each other. The hands were fully grabbing, sloppy mouths loudly sucking and drooling on the other’s neck, cheeks, ears, collarbones.
You had waited for an eternity to meet back again after Jungkook and his band were gone on tour for months. It was long and testing. Especially during the very last weeks, when the date would not approach fast enough. As an attempt to compensate the missing, hundreds of messages, textual and vocal, pictures more or less racy were exchanged. It did help soften the aching for an instant, but inevitably, it proved to be an unforgiving teasing, growing immensely the agony instead of healing it.
And then, there you were. The two of you face to face without a stupid computer screen and thousands of kilometres between you, yet you had to wait a little longer to jump on each other and finally, finally sink in your mutual heavens.
It’s Yoongi who had stopped you first. He was also the only one. They were all sitting there, disconcerted, witnessing more or less willingly the scene unfolding, their interest uncontrollably piqued maybe because they were horny too, mostly because they’d never seen their younger brother act this way. The usually cute dongsaeng, mischievous but well-behaved, blushing at each mention of his first girlfriend, now domineering said girlfriend with a new darkness they’d never seen on him. They could tell from how deep he sank his fingers into your flesh, leaving red marks to linger for minutes after they had left to abuse another part; from how he’d hover over you, purposefully making himself look bigger and wider and you'd lean in, shoulders hunched forward, bending over yourself and shaping your body in a tiny little form nuzzling into him; and the aura, he oozed darkness and sultry and almost meanness as he would watch you squirm in desperation and moan pleadingly, eyes already shining with tears and cheeks red, he was relishing in your suffering.
Therefore Yoongi just had to say something. Because the six men had been pretending not to be troubled, trying to keep up with pointless conversing but eventually faking obliviousness became too hard and they were getting too distracted to keep up with the random conversations. Yoongi's low rumble of a voice just had to intervene, break the silence made of heated whispering and smacking of wet lips and fiddling of offending layers of clothing, to tell you two to ‘fucking behave’.
You obeyed, for the most part, limiting the touching to holding hands and you remained settled and silence for the rest of the ride. Only the best observers -Jimin and Seokjin, mostly- could notice that the hands turned white from how hard they clutched at one another and the eyes that couldn’t part away were sharing all sorts of secret discussions that kept you on. You didn’t rest. You complied for you didn't want the simple warning to turn into a full fight, Yoongi sounded already strained to the extreme. But you kept each other hot and bothered, just by looks and quiet promises to be met later. They were all thankful for the apparent halt in your activities as the air of the van had started feeling like a fucking tension-filled sauna in which it had become hard to even fucking breathe in. Little did they know, it was not going to be the end of the incident for the night.
Once arrived home, after a very fulfilling quick live stream that allowed the band to share their happiness with their public who made them won an umpteenth award earlier, you were all feeling newly energized, high on the bliss of pride and success and love. It was just too early to go to bed already. Especially when the group hasn't been able to really sit down around a meal and some beer and chat away the night like they used to do, back in the beginning, when time was still a thing they were lucky to be granted with. It wasn't so much the case anymore. They were busy but beyond that, they had grown and often, other interests, other hobbies, other people came in the way and they had to devote their precious free time elsewhere than the dorm.
But here they were reunited and free for once and there was no getting out of it for anyone. Jungkook's reluctance couldn't do anything against his hyungs' nagging and cursing, and even if it seemed to break his heart, peering at his girlfriend, looking so pretty and wanting him the way he wanted her, so bad, he accepted. She wasn't mad about it. She was smiling softly at him, tilting her head slightly to the side in a complaisant way. He was though. The nervous bouncing of his leg and the prominence of his set jawline attested. It was too much wait, just too much torture. When you were so fucking close. When he almost had you in the car.
His sanity and the remains of his decency were hanging by a thread. The tiniest, flimsiest piece of thread. And something snapped it. They wouldn't know what. Not that they're that preoccupied about questioning and reasoning right now. Either way it snapped, and so suddenly, the two of you who were supposed to head to the kitchen to bring some of the empty bottles and bring some more to the group, have stopped halfway at some point and ended up heavily making out against the dining table.
It's less than twenty feet away. So close the six young men can see everything from the couches, they can hear you. The wet mouths, the moans. It's worse than it was back in the van, now pressing each other so tight with a different intention. You're not trying to comfort each other, to try and bath in as much as you can of each other's warmth that you had missed for so long. You're aiming to find a release. It's obvious from the way you grip at one another's body, hands pulling always harder, always further, body grinding like you've already started to fuck.
Is this a punishment? For having held you back from each other for longer than absolutely necessary? Because it feels like torture to them. When they know they don't have anyone in their bedrooms waiting for them. When they know the hassle it is to find someone to share an intimate moment with given their particular circumstances their idol life put them in, and that, no matter how much of a exertion they invest into it, there's no way they're getting laid any time soon. Jungkook has it all and is rubbing it in their face. It's so mean, and purposeful, why would he chose this very place to ravage his girlfriend's mouth down to her throat when he could decide to not listen to them -like he already does all the fucking time-, excuse himself and take you away to his stupid closet of a bedroom to have you there, behind closed doors -like any sensible human would chose to do. Well, any sensible human except for exhibitionists. They don't know him to be one. They actually believe their youngest member to be quite the opposite of an exhibitionist. If he likes to peek at a friend in the shower or stare at another one's built when they're changing clothes, he hates exposing himself. Supposedly. There Namjoon realizes that maybe you're so buzzed and so enticed by each other, you might have forgotten the six of them were still in the room, sitting on the couches, not only able to see but actually watching.
“They’re not really going to... do it here, right?” Seokjin is the first one to ask. His whisper of a question sounds mildly embarrassed but there’s a tiny tinge of curiosity hidden under the surface. Namjoon catches it with relief. He would never admit it out loud and he would do anything in his power to hide it, but, yeah, he’d like to see that happen.
“Of course, they will!” It’s probably the alcohol running through Jimin’s veins that speaks.
The beverage associated with his already questionable shameless manners spurs Namjoon’s saneness back to life. If tipsy Park Jimin seems so excited about the idea, chances are it is wrong. He is quick to grab the shorter guy by the shoulders, forbidding him to stroll his way to the couple heavily making out now on the dining table.
“The real question is why are we watching?” Namjoon asks, voice lower than it should be for unconsciously he doesn't want them to hear.
The question is rhetorical. Having been the leader for almost a decade now, he knows how to talk to his team for them to understand what he means. And by that, obviously, he doesn’t mean to question their morals but to order them all out of the room. But he’s fucking stressed out as one can imagine, and one of the little entities living in his head, the one conveniently shaped like his own cock, is pestering that they should stay. They need to see this. It's better porn than he would ever be able to purchase -and that's saying a lot since his bank account would allow him to buy literally all of the porn available on Earth. He's just troubled by one thing: why is he turned on? How can he feel like it'd be ok to watch his younger brother-of-another-mother fuck? Shouldn't he be disgusted? Disturbed? Are they that comfortable with each other, having lived together for so many years, shared so many intense moments that they're completely uninhibited with one another? Or is he that much of a freak? He can't think. Hardly can process any sensible thought. He knows what he is supposed to say but his urges don't match. Therefore, his voice comes out unusually soft and unsure. And he understands that they all seem to believe it’s just a conversation opener since none of them is bulging a muscle.
“No, the real question is why do they think they can shag on our fucking dining table!” That’s when Namjoon is confirmed, once again, that Yoongi is a better man than he, himself, will ever be. Everybody paints him as the perfect picture of wisdom and sensibility and intelligence but when it comes down to it, he still gets riled up and rather weak whenever his cock is affected.
When he stands frozen, mouth hardly muttering a half-ass suggestion, Yoongi is already marching to the couple. Slapping Jungkook on the back of his head, he looks about ready to resolve the situation.
Jungkook whirls around and stares with a scowl, eyebrows frowned over his dark eyes and jaws tight. He looks like a dog whose bone almost got stolen from him and as his nostrils flare, Yoongi realizes he might actually bite him. “Fuck off, hyung.” It kills Yoongi to back away. His ego has just been bruised like never before. Not only does he hardly ever gets told off, he certainly never has been by his dongsaeng four years younger than him. And there’s the goddamn audience assisting to it too. Fuck, as soon as this kid stops acting like a fucking werewolf on withdrawal, he’s going to beat his fucking ass. He just has the time to gulp and take a few cautionary steps backwards, rejoining the rest of the group, for Jungkook’s attention to be back on his girl.
You two are talking silently again. You nod, he leans into you to lick your jaw before he’s grabbing your hips to pivot you. You know, as if you’ve done this a million times before, to lie down on the surface, your arms tucked nicely to your sides, tiny hands clenching around nothing in anticipation as you offer your ass for Jungkook to undress. It takes him less than a second to throw your skirt over your back and drag your panties along your thighs. He’s so harsh. Even they can tell from the light pink rashes tracing the side of your leg. But you seem to love it. You're shaking your now uncovered ass for him, for them all to see, uncaring of the loud gasps that follow the first glimpse of your pink and wet slit. Jungkook is loving it, grinning widely, taking his time to take out his member. He chuckles when the strap of his belt hit your cheek and it makes you moan and fidget on the tip of your toes.
“Please, baby...”
Your boyfriend shakes his head, sighing out loud in disapproval. “I know. Be patient.” He chastises softly.
All eyes and hands on your body, kneading pressingly your flesh, dwelling his whole into feeling you, feeling your touch, your skin, your arousal, your love, Jungkook can’t possibly be addressing to anyone else but you. They're not so sure how conscious he is that they can see everything but he must know. Jimin is sure he does as he smiles to himself like a proud dad watching the way Jungkook owns you, the way you're hanging at the tip of his very breath, dependent completely of him and lenient to his every touch. Jungkook is all yours too, it's obvious. Surely he can't be addressing them. However, his comment makes a few of them blush and squirm uncomfortably. It just hits too closely.
Taehyung has been internally screaming for the past five minutes, dying to see this pretty pussy rammed. Namjoon, eyes wet behind his glasses, feels like he might begin crying if you don’t start doing something loud and disruptive and attention-grabbing enough for him to be able to wrap his hand around his dick and just lose some of the tension without bringing all of his friends' focus on him. And Jimin is bouncing on his feet, desperately needing to come forward and see better and perhaps even touch. His fingers are twitching in the air, rings clashing each other in the quiet room, the only thing holding him back is Namjoon’s hands still wrapped on his shoulders, now squeezing hard. Yoongi is getting even more pissed if possible, especially because the nervous shaking of Hoseok's leg sitting just next to him makes it seem like the moment drags on forever, and he is about to snap, forgetting entirely about the earlier episode. Just when he opens his mouth to say something, Jungkook is puckering his own to spit on the head of his cock. There’s an audible choke coming from somewhere in the audience. Jungkook spits again, this time aiming for your hole and they can all hear distinctly a strangled fuck. There Namjoon realizes that they're so engrossed in what's happening, so desperate not to miss the highly-anticipated moment Jungkook would start entering you, they don't even dare look away for a split second to try and figure out who's the one getting triggered by the lewd gesture. He could slip a hand inside his pants. There's no way they'd care or even notice. But he would know. He'd know he was the first one to do so and he's simply not too keen on the idea.
They are more than two moans released in the open as Jungkook fills you up with the entirety of his length and just sits there.
“Do you need me to go fetch you a condom, Kook?” Jimin asks. Frankly, it's not him offering as the caring person he is known to be. He asks because he’d give anything to have an excuse to just get somewhat closer. Yoongi eyes him scornfully and Namjoon thinks he knows why. Either he's pissed that Jimin would be so careless, so comfortable to basically allow himself to sneak in the action, or he's pissed that Jimin might have brought so much attention on them that Jungkook suddenly sobers up, realizes what the fuck he is doing and stops the show altogether. To his, and everyone else's surprise, the boy peers over his shoulder, answering naturally -like they're in the middle of a casual conversation about what he'd prefer to wear for a concert or some shit.
“I don’t use condoms, hyung.” Jungkook looks so confused, eyebrows crooked in a puzzled fashion, as his hips slowly roll against his girlfriend. Looking like the sole idea of considering willingly slipping the rubber protection on one’s cock is outrageous and unthinkable.
Taehyung has to squeeze his eyes shut, throw his head back and sighs the deepest exhale of air to contain himself. He can't believe what he's just heard. There's still the tiny, progressively growing whimpers of yours that bring him back to the present and he can't help but let a word slips out. “Fuck.” He sounds mad, voice lower and huskier than it's ever been. So deep and strained by the tension his whole body is seized by, it almost sounds like a growl from a demonic creature.
That's how he feels anyway. Sinful. Jungkook and you are the ones exposing yourselves to them. You didn't even ask if they wanted to see, you started doing it all on your own. You're the dirty ones. The unholy ones. But he feels like he's the same, if not even worse, when the grossest thoughts start sprouting madly in his brain. Thoughts about what you've been up to behind closed doors until now.
You don't wear condoms. Why the fuck is that? He remembers Jungkook coming to him once with a particular question he had to redirect to Namjoon because he just didn't know enough to answer him properly. And with the flushed cheeks and the most labored stutter, Jungkook had asked their leader if he knew something about long-term contraception. And Taehyung, naively, had thought that Jungkook was asking because he was worried about their youth and their career and you're never too prudent when it comes to contraception. He just couldn't take the risk to have a ripped-condom accident and end up with a pregnant girlfriend. Taehyung thought that was all it was about. But it's never been about that, Taehyung comes to realize. He wanted to fuck you raw. He wanted to feel your walls directly onto his dick, feel your wetness, and claim you by soaking your walls with his cum, didn't he? Taehyung wonders who's the one who's the most into it. He would have never imagined you to be so fucking filthy but he can't deny it anymore. Not when he sees your hands reach backwards, nails scratching desperately at your boyfriend's asscheeks to bring him deeper. Taehyung gulps audibly, one giant hand covering entirely his crotch, just the tip of his fingers discreetly teasing the head of his cock. He bets his briefs are soaked. It's just his imagination, but the thought of you wanting Jungkook to soil you like that drives him crazy.
He wouldn't know but the same conclusion has set in the five other men's head. They felt weird, inappropriate for being so turned on, for just thinking about staying there to watch but you're lewd. They've just confirmed how depraved you are. And they have no doubt left about it when the second Jungkook has set a cruising speed pace that allows you to breathe, you twist around so you could face them and see all of their eyes on you.
And all of their eyes are on you. They’re not ashamed or abashed or mannerly anymore, obnoxiously ogling, meeting your own fluttering gaze with no sense of embarrassment left because you're probably dirtier, and the things running through your head and the other things you've been up to with Jungkook are probably dirtier than all of their experiences put together.
Hoseok thinks he can see it in your eyes. For some reason, they are set on him. He feels he might be tripping. Wishful thinking making him believe that your attention is set on him solely when really, you're immersing in what the six of them are granting you equally. But it really does look like it. Like you want him. Like you'd want more if it wasn't too much to ask. What they are witnessing is not the full extent of your greed and depravity, there'd be more if you could. Your eyes are begging him. Begging him to watch, to not waver away from you, to not even do much as think about something else and just spend his whole on you. Perhaps actually begging him to touch you.
Currently, he’s watching you with a predatory gaze you've only seen him wear on stage, with cheeks crimson from arousal and from the rolling of your eyes, the silent gap of your swollen mouth, it’s killing you. Hoseok winces at how compressed his rock hard dick feels inside his too-tight jeans. His slender hand has to dive for it -he's a grown-ass man and it's ridiculous to pretend he's not affected and his willing stronger when he knows, he knows they all are as worked up as he is. He grazes the length of his cock, dragging the tissue of his pants along it with the gesture. But the head is so sensitive that it hurts. He knows the only way to make it feel good would be to take it out and take care of it properly, with at least his precum as lube. No one is doing it though. And there's no fucking way he's going to be the first to pull his cock out in front of them all. Fucking hell. He knows you want it too. The way your gaping lips seems to attempt to wrap around words. They quiver. You have something to tell him but for whatever reason, you can't. Shame? Perhaps. It seems ridiculous but maybe there's still some left in you. After all, you've always been kind of shy around him.
“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” They're all snapped out of a daze when they hear the low voice of Jungkook. It's deeper than usual, kind of resembling the one tone he uses when he wants to pretend he's a rapper. And he curses, so naturally so, as if he does it all the time when really, they hardly ever hear him do so. “Having all my hyungs watching you getting fucked like that, you’re clenching so- uh, fuck!” You mewl, attempting to answer but are quick to give up as it seems pointless and all you wish to do is devote yourself to the pleasure. The rolling of your eyes is pretty telling anyway.
“We love watching you, doll.” Most heads turn to Namjoon who can feel his cheeks immediately start to burn. He’s not sure if he meant to say it out loud but he did and he doesn’t regret any of the words. When he focuses his attention back on your ass, and the delicious trembling of your cheeks each time Jungkook beats his hips hard against it, he couldn’t care less about the embarrassment. He doesn’t have to be ashamed anyway. Seokjin, he can see it from the corner of his eye, is really into it too, and this to an extent he couldn’t even have guessed. Seokjin is usually so detached and reserved when it comes to this -sex and partners- he wouldn’t have deemed him naughty in any way. He would even have expected him to start a scene and nag on the top of his head, neck scarlet in anger, about how this is fucking obscene and disgraceful. He always thought him to be the perfect embodiment of innocence and purity. Yet he’s so enthralled. Leaning forward, hips mindlessly following the rhythm of the coit, one of his large hand pressed firmly on his closed crotch, he’s not even blinking. Namjoon wouldn’t know because he’s too far and his eyes suck but what Seokjin's can see is incredible. He’s mesmerized by the sprinkles of sweat, beaten away from your skin, from how strongly Jungkook's strong thighs are hitting you.
This is ridiculous. You fuck like porn stars.
But you're not. And the difference shows in that you don’t have to keep going at it for hours to make sure to have all the good angles and drag it long enough for the money to be bigger. All you care about is getting off, it's obvious, from the frenetic movement, the panting, the whining. You're like two horny dogs in rut. All you care about and all you need is that climax. And it's probably so close already with this whole... situation. When you're exposing your kinkiness for them, the older brothers who've always seen you two as innocent, cute babies, going at it like rabbits, they can imagine how arousing it must be for you.
Slipping the hand that was gripping your hair to your front, collecting the slick spread all over your skin, Jungkook proceeds to abuse your clit as he keeps on fucking into you as punishingly as he can. It takes you a few instants to come undone, crying out loud as the wave of your orgasm shakes your whole body and your boyfriend follows right behind you, unable to handle the pressure of your walls along with your sinful moans. He’s shuddering against you as he milks his cum inside, taking his time to slip out. Again, Taehyung is left to wonder for whom he's doing it. He looks like he's trying to make sure none of his given seed will spill and he needs to know if it's you or him who so badly needs it to stay inside.
Jungkook exhales hard as he lets himself fall butt-naked on a nearby chair. Your legs are still shivering, assaulted by tiny spasms, you have to hold yourself upright by the tenuous strength left in your hands which are gripping the other edge of the table. Jungkook has a hand just sitting on your ass, he has the intention but not enough force remaining to drag you to him so you could seat and let your legs rest.
“Here.” You look up to see Jimin, standing next to you, he’s sliding a cup of freshwater to touch the burning skin of your arm. You feel so scorching hot you almost expect steam to rise out of the contact. As you reach for it, with difficulty, Jimin pulls a chair closer to you, a hand replacing the skirt on your behind before helping you sit. The tension gets even tighter as he does so. Jungkook is observing him with eagle eyes, obviously waiting for his friend to overstep boundaries and get from you more than he would allow. Jimin is well aware of that. That’s why he made sure not to even brush your skin as he dressed you up.
And there’s the rest of the room. Crowded with young men confused as to how to act. Some sulking because they wish they had something they don’t -the proximity Jimin fetched for himself with you, the relationship their youngest friend has-, others fidgeting in frustration -because it was too short, because they need more or because they don’t know how to fucking get out of there so they can finally deal with their personal pressing problem.
“Ok, um... we should- we should all head to bed. You know we have a tight schedule tomorrow.” It’s so fresh in their memories. The loud smacking, the wet squelching, the cries are still touchable, still ringing in their ears. And the images. Soon enough it’ll be recollection. It will get flimsier and flimsier. They won’t remember the rhythm nor the movements nor the shapes. They have to exploit it right now. Now that their backs are still soaked with the sweat, their hearts still beating in frenzy, their mouths dry as hell and their cocks begging for release. It’s Taehyung who's the first to leave. He’s hurrying his way up the stairs, shaking his hand in pretence casualness, before Yoongi follows suit, not sparing anyone a glance. After that, they all find the courage to leave, Hoseok is last as he seems to struggle to make his eyes leave your form. And then it’s just the two of you. Cheeks flushed and foreheads sweaty, a large grin matching your faces.
“We’re crazy.” Jungkook nods while chuckling before leaning over to place a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“Let's do it again some time.”
a/n: oops. i slipped. :))))
