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hoseoksluna · 3 months

Text

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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astrxealis · 1 year

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okay i'm going to an ffxiv unofficial fan event in july this year and there's this wol (character) sticker exchange thing me and lune really want to participate in but 1. we don't really know how to draw yet 2. we don't really have money to commission. so. sobbing

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#I AM REALLY EXCITED THOUGH .....#there is a high chance we will be the youngest there but oh well ?? hoping for other people our age fr #also i think one of my favorite xiv artists who i sometimes forget is filipino bcs they are Huge af is going ... so goddamn. wow #also i've never interacted w xiv ppl irl yet. saw a few people at conquest last year and one person wearing the shirt out Once #but this june's conquest there was More ... AND MY BEST FRIEND. WHO WENT #literally got us stickers despite her just having played so little so far bcs of me and lune BUT SHE TALKED W THE PERSON WHO SOLD THEM AND #AAA SMTH ABOUT HOW 'GNA BRING US NEXT YEAR' SMTH SMTH so idk makes me really happy :((#so that kinda went off-topic but i am wondering how to go about this #i feel like if i asked a friend or another one to draw something (really small) they wld be fine w it but 1. too shy 2. i don't want to ask #something of my friends. like. bro idk if someone asked me for shit i'd be really happy but nervous but mostly like oh ... so u wna have #smth in my writing ..... thatd make me CRY bcs i rarely share my writing w others. and in all my life not much ppl im close to have Asked #for smth like that. but when it comes to others i have no idea At All #if it comes down to it i'm cool w not joining the exchange but ir does sound like fun so i will Try and See still. hmhmhmhm

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talaok · 3 months

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a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had

warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason

You were flirting good

The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone

Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl

"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.

He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed

As if

“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”

But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you

"she's not"

Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter

"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face

"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting

"Now."

There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding

"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill

You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving

"Cockbloker"

You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,

only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud

"you're in trouble doll"

again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know

The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear

"I'm talking to you"

You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage

And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.

maybe this will get your attention

And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face

"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking

"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"

The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay

"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"

You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront

"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?"

Oh he was fuming

"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"

you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat

he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.

"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"

What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please

You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk

"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"

The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory

"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core

"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now

"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"

Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"

He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.

"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty

"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"

The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case

"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?"

His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that

"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze

And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do

"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"

And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.

If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.

He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time

"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"

And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants

"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth

"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"

His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.

You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-

It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed

For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this

And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.

"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already

He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less

"What, you scared?"

And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant

"fuck me, daddy"

God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love

"Jesus fucking Christ doll"

He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat

He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.

He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.

he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good

"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them

He was being serious, he needed you to know that

"got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you"

You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice

"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"

If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this

"yes" you whimpered into his palm,

And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him

"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating

"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"

"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"

And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.

You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground

"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"

"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips

You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you

Later

"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.

the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now

"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours

"I gotta clean myself up"

"I could help"

You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you

"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"

And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard

And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe

"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.

Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about

"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"

To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century

His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself

"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"

"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"

Kaleb stumbled back, literally now

"w-wha-"

"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel killer x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader

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luveline · 11 months

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can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room.

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?"

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there."

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers.

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress."

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held.

"It's not, everybody cries."

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently.

"It's really not a big deal."

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?"

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass."

"No, Eddie, you can't."

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks.

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry."

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?"

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says.

You nod appreciatively. "Well…"

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?"

"I know so," you say.

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides.

"People saying shit about you?" he asks.

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb."

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh.

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?"

"Is it really weird?" you ask.

"Super fucking weird, babe."

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear.

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask.

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms.

"That how it is?" he asks.

"Isn't it always?"

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen.

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you."

"You're very charming," you say sweetly.

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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neoraso · 5 months

Text

riize when they're jealous

shotaro

is a little oblivious at first- for example: tries to make friends with the guy

then as the conversation drags on and taro realizes this guy is barely acknowledging him,, and is literally only talking to you he gets pretty uncomfortable

you are also getting uncomfortable and shotaro notices so he finds a way to quickly end the conversation (pretending you had somewhere else to be or smth)

he doesn't get too down about if afterwards and definitely doesn't blame you for anything he just tries to make jokes about how attractive you are "people just can't stay away from you! you're like the flower to a bee （⌒▽⌒）”

but honestly, it still irks him a bit. pls make sure to give him at least one kiss and remind him he's ur shining star

eunseok

def not the type to be worried about you around his friends or your male friends.. but random guys actually hitting on you in real.

he would never admit to being jealous, he tries to tell himself he's just annoyed with the guy or like.. worried for your safety which- um ok wtv

that being said ,, when he does get this way he goes completely cold. hard frown, glaring eyes, clenched jaw etc. etc.

he's very confident in your relationship but something about the highly unrealistic possibility that you could be swayed to leave him ruffles his feathers to say the least

i hope no one would be bold enough to try to hit on you WHILE you're with him because he'd immediately get in front of you and confront the guy "who even are you? what do you need to talk to her for?"

sungchan

oh dear lord.... it's not good. like he wont hurt anyone but sometimes wants to. like,,,

ok it depends if you were far away talking to a guy he would immediately come over and wrap his arm around you and goes "who's this." and ur like PLS don’t do anything embarrassing 😳

it’s to the point he does not want to hear about your past relationships (unless it was like a serious conversation) bc it makes his skin crawl thinking about another person touching his girl

he trusts his friends but it will take a bit of convincing to trust your friends. not bc he doesn’t have faith in you he would just get pissed at other people thinking they had a chance

i’m making him sound like a freak but he’s very open and vocal about how he feels and wants to work on it with you - but he’s always gonna be protective like a guard dog

wonbin

he’s like ., quiet possessive (?) he's just like " ur only my baby right?" wants you all to himself, near him as much as possible

jokingly says you can’t watch other groups but is like ..half joking he lowkey doesn’t want you thinking other guys are cooler than him

it really just comes down to the fact that he doesn't want to lose you.

if there was a real situation where someone was like actually flirting with you, he would get soooo sulky. - like comes over to you and puts his hand on your back, smiling at you like everything is fine 🙂( 😐)

but when he hears you say "yes, this is my boyfriend i was telling you about." his chest puffs up and he’s like jumping for joy inside T_T needs extra kisses too afterwards

seunghan

you are his baby and is very clear about it in public . always has his hands on you so it would be insane for someone to hit on you but if he walked away and someone approached u…

hhhhh lowkey gets an attitude … mostly with the other guy like tongue in cheek “is this guy serious…”

honestly kind of confrontational “can i help you? what do you need from my girlfriend?” can be intimidating when he wants to and makes sure people know he is NOT playing around

first makes sure you’re ok and then he’s like “wtf.. do i have to give you an ‘i ♡ my bf’ shirt or smth”

with his and your friends he doesn’t have a problem he trusts you all the way he just gets offended when people don’t get the hint that you’re taken

sohee

surprisingly, gets more jealous than you’d expect like sometimes ur like ???

he really just wants all your attention and if other guys try to take it he’s like . abt to start barking

that being said he trusts you 100% but when you notice his smile is like 10% less bright than usual and you ask what’s wrong he’s like “OHHH nothing -_- i just can’t believe i’m up against the whole city bc you’re so pretty. what am i to do ?”

ur just like 😭my sweet boy !! give him a kiss he’ll be cured and recovers pretty quickly

kind of is one that doesn’t really like you having male friends but he doesn’t want to control you so he’s doing deep breathing exercises if you’re really involved in a conversation with someone that isn’t him.

anton

ohhh sweet sweet anton. honestly ! doesn’t get too jealous

like he gives u your space if you’re talking to another guy but if they start subtly hitting on you he’s like ?

will bring it up to you later when you’re sitting with him like stroking your arm and he’s like “sooooo that guy ..” and ur like oh 🙄that was so annoying. did it upset you? :( and he’s like “um . i mean… well not really it was just weird ..”

will appreciate your reassurance more than he shows you

might be one to be insecure with you around the members just because you would get so close to them he’s like ha…. what if they got even closer … but then he remembers none of you would ever do that then he just hugs you a little tighter

1K notes · View notes

mrkis · 1 year

Text

this is (not) easy. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fwb, f2l, crack humour, fluff, smut, angst WORD COUNT: 13.2k

SYNOPSIS: getting into a friends with benefits situation with your all time best friend was so (not) easy

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, sofa sex, doggy, creampies, big dick mark as always (he gets cocky bc his cock is big), a lot of crack humour, kissing, make-outs, sorta slow burn, heavily implied jaemin x reader moments, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed

[AN]: a thank you gift for being patient with me while i take some time off, and also a thank you gift for the follower milestone. you guys are insane.. i love you.

“Wait, you what?” You screech incredulously, not caring about the loudness of your tone as you abruptly straighten up in your seat, the legs squeaking against the wooden flooring of the library. Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over to shush you angrily, one warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no attention as you’re staring wide eyed at Mark who sits across from you sheepishly.

Mark Lee—one of the hot throbs living on campus, the smartest and kindest guy in class, and the biggest marvel freak has been your bestest friend for the past few years, having met in the middle of a school’s basketball court where fourteen-year-old Mark had tried to shoot some hoops to impress his newfound friends, only for the ball to come flying straight at your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Mark was unbelievably apologetic, buying jellies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you, begging for your forgiveness over and over again until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek. A toothy grin was spread across your cheeks as you had taken the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the packet, offering a jelly, offering your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod, the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting to be roommates.

It didn’t happen much to both of your dismay. Mark ended up rooming with one of his friends, Jaemin, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time.

Still, you and Mark never strayed far from each other even with your roommates lingering around. Mark slept over at your place from time to time and vice versa, you’re certain that he even has a drawer for himself in your dresser filled with spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear. A lot of your mutual friends found it suspicious how you two could be so close with nothing going on, complaining how neither of you could be just friends even though it was the truth. You are just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month” Mark repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while other skilfully flips a pen around his fingers, bottom lip jutting out. “Times are hard, dude. I got assignments coming out of my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone recently” You hiss between teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense. A student from the table next to yours turns around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Mark scolds you as he wraps his hand around your own, squeezing in warning as he pushes it back down to the table and sends the student an apologetic smile, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and return back to their book. It makes you scoff again and Mark is quick to look at you, “I’m telling you the truth, you know”

“Bullshit” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her snapchat stories”

“Dude, we’re in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and stayed longer because Jaemin offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’” Mark explains, putting emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Jaemin’s stash. “She eventually ended up sleeping over and fucking Jeno anyways”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Jeno isn’t even your roommate?”

“I know,” Mark grimaces. “Jaemin’s sheets are still in the dryer”

“Oh…” You pause, humming as the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Jaemin didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday”

“Yea—wait, you came over Monday?” Mark’s head snaps towards you, eyes narrowing in on you as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!

“No, of course not” You scoff, deeply offended by his accusation and Mark lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the sofa—”

“Are you fucking kidding m—”

“That’s besides the point!!” You cut him off before he can grill into you, silencing him as you raise your hand in front of his face as he tries to retaliate again. “You haven’t fucked anyone in a month, Mark. That’s… that’s blasphemy!!”

Mark deadpans, “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy”

“Whatever, you know what I mean” You discard it, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn’t gotten laid in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully face him, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe you fucked someone in a month…”

“You’re telling me” Mark huffs, deciding to push away his studies too for the time being as he rubs at his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, rubbing his shoulder in pity and Mark drops his hands to his lap, looking over at you with a glare. “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me, dude… why would I lie about something like that?!”

“I don’t know—you fuck more than I do, of course I’m not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!!” You’re quick to defend yourself, both you and Mark knowing you’re speaking the truth.

Mark does fuck more than you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is currently sitting in its twenties and that his online bank statements show how many packs of condoms he’s buying weekly, and maybe a few plan B’s lingering there somewhere for extra precaution. He was always on the safe side which didn’t surprise you, he was nowhere ready to be extremely stupid and possibly impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“Dude… you didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Mark mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you and comically widens her eyes as she meets Mark’s, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Mark reciprocates. You scoff at her reaction and lean back in your seat just as Mark’s attention is brought back to you. “Are we done with this conversation? I’d like to change the topic from my non-existent sex life to something more appealing”

“Fine… you still going to Johnny’s later?”

“Nah, he’s got some important family thing to go to so we’re hanging another time” Mark sighs softly, taking the cap off of his head to run his fingers through his hair before adjusting it back on. “You cool if I came over with you?”

“Sure” You grin, already shoving your books into your tote bag, eager to leave the library as soon as you possibly can. Mark snorts in amusement but follows closely behind as he shoves his own belongings into his backpack and rests the strap on his shoulder. You turn your head to see the girl still staring over at Mark and you smirk, slamming one hand on the desk in front of her to get her attention before jabbing your thumb in Mark’s direction. “If you want his number, I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently so—”

Mark’s fingers curl around your elbow, dragging you away from the traumatised girl with a huff, “Move”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You begin after a few hefty hours of studying and bingeing out on food, dropping your chopsticks in the empty ramen cup and pushing it to the side. Mark sits beside you on the sofa, his own ramen cup in hand as he stares at his laptop screen, taking in the words that need to be remembered for his class.

Mark gives you a pointed look as he slurps his ramen, “That doesn’t sound good”

“Wow, hilarious” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes as he chuckles under his breath, turning his head back to the laptop screen. “Anyway—and hear me out before you say some dumbass shit—I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have just thought of a way to fix it”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Mark whines between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be reminded that I’m not having sex, dude—"

“Ah!” You hold up your hand to shush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm. “I said hear me out”

“Okay”

“Great! Okay, so, me and you are the best of friends, right? Like, we always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out” You warn once more and Mark sighs, nodding his head to let you continue. “We always help each other out, right? And there’s no awkwardness between us at all which makes us close. Do you remember that time we had to make-out in front of Sejun so he would stop awkwardly hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Rina would get the hint that you didn’t want to fuck her anymore?”

“That didn’t exactly work out because we slept with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other out, no matter what the situation is because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation”

“And how can we help each other out”

“By fucking each other” The second those words leave your lips, Mark chokes on his ramen, fist banging against his chest as he coughs, eyes watery and face red and it has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture. Mark takes deep breaths as he finally consumes air, reaching down to grab his bottle of water that rests beside the leg of the sofa, gulping it down almost immediately. “You’re so dramatic”

“And you’re crazy!!” Mark shoots back, water droplets falling from his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You grin, “Perfectly!”

“We’re not fucking each other, it’ll be too weird” You instantly find offense to that, your jaw dropping and Mark rolls his eyes. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly, “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird, people have done weirder”

“Do you know how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Mark questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long”

Your head slowly whirls back to Mark who’s already staring at you and you smile, flirtily batting your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“You’re unbelievable, jesus fucking chri—” Mark cuts himself off, rubbing his forehead as he exhales deeply due to his frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side to bring his attention back to you.

Mark looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you grin softly, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view. You’ve always found Mark attractive even if it was in a friendly way, and you’d be lying if you said that sleeping with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you continuously hear the girls gush about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s pretty giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible while others say he comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked. It piques your interest immensely… Maybe it was wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think.

“Look…” You speak first. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Mark cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been friends for, like, nine years or something, dude… I don’t know about you but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re horny”

“We’re not going to get into anything serious” You tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to be in some type of friends with benefits situation but we’re not going to include any of that ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ bullshit. We just fuck each other for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications”

“So…” Mark purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Jaemin for you that easily?”

“Fuck you”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would”

Mark stares at you before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue pokes at his cheek. The little act spurs you on but you remain seating, wanting Mark to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling, maybe Mark more than you considering you fucked Jaemin a few days ago, but you were desperate to be filled again.

You watch Mark ponder for a moment, his bottom lip jutting down deep in thought, brows pulling together as he thinks about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together at the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers tangled through the locks. You snort at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate come back tonight?” Mark questions you, his low voice bringing you out of your thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, reaching over to snag your phone off of the coffee table to check the time and you grin wildly when you realise she won’t be home for another three hours. You inform him immediately and he nods, “Cool. Good to know”

“So?” You press, chucking your phone back onto the coffee table as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

“No titles—”

“None at all”

“We can still fuck whoever we want—”

“Even the neighbours”

“And most importantly…” Mark pauses with a deep sigh, leaning closer to you and holding up his hand with his pinky finger outstretched. “We’re still best friends”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed” You say softly with a smile, raising your own hand to curl your pinky finger around his own, squeezing tightly. It’s silent between you both for a while and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Mark’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that takes the initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, dragging him towards you to plant your lips on his in a heated kiss. You’re surprised at how fast Mark responds as his palms come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper as his tongue moulds with yours.

The few drunken kisses you’ve shared with Mark to help each other out of situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing now and it catches you extremely off guard. You almost expected him to allow you to take control of the situation and lead him through, but with the way Mark’s pushing you down to the sofa and crawling in between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped.

“Wait” You stop him, pressing your hand against his shoulder to push him back and Mark moves away with puckered lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts which causes you to snort, “Why are we doing this on the sofa when there’s a perfectly good bed in my room?”

Mark glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Jaemin fucking on my sofa”

“Actually, there was no sheets on Jaemin’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback” Mark smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your knee against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this sofa…. Do you really care?”

“Are you implying that I’m a slut”

“Yeah”

“God, that’s so hot of you”

Mark snorts out a laugh and leans down to reconnect your lips as his hands pull your shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Mark’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation, watching as he shifts down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you apart further.

Your hand reaches down to pull the cap off of his head, revealing his messy hair beneath and you toss it over the sofa, caring so little about where it lands as you thread your fingers through his locks, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, staring up at you with his brows laced together.

“Hurry” You whine.

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh fuck!”

“You talk too much” He drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling around your clit and your body jerks, a gasp flying past your lips as you dig your fingers further into his hair, the feeling of his tongue wiggling between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the sofa cushions as he eases his two digits inside the warmth of your walls, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and you whine, tugging on his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to rise to your skin.

You’re in shock at how well Mark uses his tongue and fingers against you. You’ve heard stories from your girl friends and Mark himself, but you didn’t realise he was this good and it completely caught you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from your chest when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy while his tongue continues to work wonders on your clit.

“Mark” You say his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head and you feel him smile against your cunt, causing you to squeeze around his head in warning, “Stop it”

“You gonna cum already?” He asks as he lifts his head, mouth glistening with your arousal and his fingers hitting the spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want. Let it go”

“You’re so cocky” You chuckle, but your amusement slips away and is overcome by pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his hand, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it” Mark hums, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. “There you go…”

“Oh my god” You choke out, your hand falling limp on his shoulder as it drops from his hair, your fingers twitching over the material. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out” He answers simply with smugness in his tone, popping his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean and your mouth drops in shock at the action. “You good?”

“Yeah, good” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Mark is, watching as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, your eyes immediately zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements.

Truthfully, you’ve seen Mark naked as he’s so comfortable stripping in front of you without any thought. But, you’ve never seen Mark hard and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering in anticipation. Your best friend is huge.

“Okay” Mark speaks to himself, shuffling forwards on his knees and hooking his hands under the back of yours to pull you closer, his thumbs caressing your skin. “You ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be” You grin, wiggling against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, baby!”

“Don’t call me that, dude” Mark tuts, shaking his head as he slowly slides his cock into you. Your eyes slowly start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your thighs and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly could.

You breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as you wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy squeezing down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from entering any further.

“Ow” You mutter beneath your breath, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at the movement you make, causing Mark to raise his head from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“You alright?”

“Mhm” You hum with a curt nod. “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all”

His lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You give him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head”

Mark laughs loudly, his hand laying flat across your lower tummy as he adjusts himself in between your legs, head ducking down to watch himself carefully push into you once more but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your tummy as he slides out of you and you whine at the feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Hold on…” He tells you softly, gently grabbing your waist to help flip you over on all fours, his hands sliding around your back and pressing down slightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock prod at your entrance. “This should feel better. But tell me if it still hurts, okay? I don’t want to hurt you anymore”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Mark”

“Okay” Mark whispers as he eases himself into you again at a slow pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the sofa, your head dropping to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Mark smiles, “Maybe both”

You don’t even get a chance to retaliate as Mark begins to fill you up completely, his hips pressing against your ass and you whine at how full you feel, unable to think properly as he pulls his cock out, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

He curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he rocks his hips into you, his powerful thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he moans, his pace speeding up and you can’t help but fuck yourself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can hear him mumble about how ‘fucking tight your pussy’ is. You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk, Mark continues to amaze you.

Your pussy swallows around his length when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your fingers, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Sh...shit” You slur, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—Fuck, don’t stop—s’good”

“I’m not gonna stop” You hear Mark whisper and you could feel the tears build up in your eyes as Mark leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the sofa, his other playing with your clit as he quickens his thrusts, his cock hitting deeper than before that it has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your body tenses up as his cock ploughs into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently.

Your screams are muffled by your own hand, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your weight as your body falls limp on the sofa, pleasure buzzing through your veins and sending your mind whirling as Mark fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants, his thumb stroking the top of your ass cheeks. “Fuck, tell me where I can cum”

“Anywhere you want” You garble your words, turning your head to the side to look at him, noticing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Mark repeats as he slows his hips and you nod, yelping in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more, staring at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting his one hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you open wide and Mark grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, letting you suckle on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows lacing together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, drinking up everything he gives to you.

It’s silent between you both as Mark removes himself from above you, opting to crash down in the limited space between your body and the sofa, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he breathes heavily.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Mark’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees as you stare down at him incredulously.

“Dude!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing.

“Ow! Jesus Chri—”

“What the fuck?! Why did you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to speak as you shake your head. “We should’ve done this years ago!!”

Mark rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his lips as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up”

“Okay, so, let me repeat that—” Renjun pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Mark on the opposite side of the table “—you two decided to fuck each other last night because neither of you have fucked someone in a long time and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release elsewhere, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah”

“What the fuck?!” Renjun exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Donghyuck and Jaemin who sit silently together, watching everything unfold. “Why aren’t you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be” Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he turns to look at you with his brows laced together, “Although, I’m kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been”

“When was the last time you got tested, Hyuck?” Mark teases, a slight smirk curling at the end of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. Donghyuck rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger to which Mark laughs at.

“And you’re okay with this?” Renjun questions Jaemin who slowly nods as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He grumbles, lifting his eyes to Renjun and raises a brow before looking back down to his lap. “Besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it”

You gasp in awe, reaching out to pinch his cheek, “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a sigh. His eyes widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets, “Where’s Jeno? Somebody text Jeno”

“You know damn well Jeno isn’t going to give a shit” Donghyuck cackles. “Pretty sure he fucked his best girl friend last year”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Renjun looks at you all for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, “Exactly!!”

“Come on, dude, it’s not like that…” Mark tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official stuff, we’re not making it weird”

“Meaning we can still fuck whoever we want” You add on, turning to look at Jaemin with a pretty smile and he looks back at you with a smirk, dropping his left eye into a flirtatious wink before resuming back in rolling his joint.

“So, what I’m hearing is—” Donghyuck pauses, leaning his elbows on his table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you, “There’s still a chance for you to fuck me?”

“I have more of a chance of getting fucked than you, Hyuck” Jeno’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning as you see Jeno nearing towards your table with his jacket in one hand and his books in the other.

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, scraping the metal across the floor as he drags it to place beside Mark, slapping his hand down on his shoulder in greeting as he sits.

“Anyway, what are we talking about?”

“Mark and Y/N fucked” Renjun immediately jumps into it and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration as Mark laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to fuck whenever they have no one else to, so—”

“Cool”

Renjun stares at Jeno incredulously. “That’s not cool!! You’re all helpless, every single one of you”

Jeno pulls a face, “You know, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Donghyuck sings.

“—and besides, they’re grown adults, they can do whatever they want” Jeno’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, tugging off the cap with his teeth before looking at you, “I’m surprised it took you this long to actually hook-up, I thought it would’ve happened months ago”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago” Jeno smiles and shrugs innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and catching it with his hand before he begins scribbling on the pages and you roll your eyes, craning your neck over your shoulder to look at Mark who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Jeno’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Donghyuck who angles his phone in his direction to show him something that you could barely see.

Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, shoving the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth and grabbing his own book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Jeno before comically raising his head up to point his pen at you and Mark.

“Also, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole ‘friends with benefits relationship’ bullshit ends up going to literal shit” Renjun warns before slowly turning the pen to point it as himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’”

A scoff leaves your lips as Mark speaks up, “Relax, dude, everything is going to be fine. And besides, it could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again” Mark eyes you, “Right?”

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him a short nod, “Right”

“Mark, Mark, Mark” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off of your bed and gripping the pillows behind your head, mouth open wide as Mark’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, waves of slick splashing onto the sheets below and his boxers. He laughs as you shove your face into your arm, body trembling and whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with his other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl up into the sweet spot that has you trembling through your orgasm, almost bringing yourself to tears at the pressure in the pit of your tummy.

“There we go…” Mark hums, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp as Mark comes to a stop, grinning as he pulls his fingers away from your cunt and you mewl, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side but he captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good” You mock with a scoff, arms flopping to your sides as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Mark laughs again. “I felt like I was going crazy... that was intense”

“Thank you” Mark cheeses, eyes beaming as he slips off of your bed. “You need to change your sheets though”

“So gentlemanly of you to offer to help” You mutter sarcastically under your breath with a tut, standing up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing your middle finger up in Mark’s direction as he snickers.

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thank you as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clean yourself up after previous activities.

You take a little longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Mark could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine as you begin to think about your relationship with Mark.

You’ve been hooking up for almost three weeks, showing up at each other's place whenever you’re in need of sex and getting the deed done before hanging out, getting a bite to eat or even watching something on the TV. You still sleep with Jaemin, you’ve even fucked Jaemin and Mark on the same day. Mark doesn’t care, and personally neither do you, but you start to recall the amount of times you have chosen Mark over Jaemin, and it was a lot.

You and Mark fuck whenever you have no one else to go to, yet given the choices… you still choose Mark.

“Dude!” Mark bangs his fist on the bathroom door, yanking you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss, hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before”

You hear the door yank open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Mark to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh. His eyes meet yours and his brows pull together, giving you an odd look.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a nod, “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Arin last weekend”

“Okay, I have another question”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions” You cut him off and he chuckles, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Arin, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve asked you to come over?”

“Um…” Mark ponders for a moment, his bottom lip poking out in deep thought as he dries his hands on the towel. “Yeah, I think so”

“And who did you choose to go to?”

“You” It shocks you at how fast he answers and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumble. He chose you too. Is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking the other available people. “Why are you asking me that anyways?”

“Curious” You say as you close the curtain shut to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s laughing and muttering beneath his breath how funny you are. “Wait, I have another question—”

“Ask me when you’re done showering”

“Why?” Your voice turns sultry as you begin to smirk, “Is knowing that I’m naked behind this flimsy shower curtain turning you on?”

Mark doesn’t answer, instead his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes on your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Realistically, you hated your birthday. You hated knowing you’re getting older every year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you crushed on or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever's back. Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such close friends who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you nearly spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Donghyuck twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelled out ‘birthday girl’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist.

“Oh! There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Happy birthday!” Donghyuck yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Jaemin who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Donghyuck shoves the gift bag into your lap when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something!!”

“We told him not to” Jeno tells you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he looks at you through his bangs, “But as always, Donghyuck doesn’t listen”

“And I never will” Donghyuck chirps, untying the string of the balloons from around his wrist to tie them around yours instead, ignoring the dark look you give him as he smiles cheekily at you, “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need, pretty”

“I swear to god, If you—”

“Shh” He presses his fingers against your lips. “Less talking, more looking”

You roll your eyes, whacking his hand away from your face before peering into the bag, a soft laugh leaving your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately deadpan when you see a pack of condoms and a plan B box sandwiched between the pair, staring back at you.

Jaemin peers over your shoulder to drop a premade joint and a few gummies into the bag for later but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack, dipping his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Donghyuck who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms”

Donghyuck gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with his eyes wide as he leans forward, his nose brushing against yours as he speaks lowly, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Positive” You giggle and pat his cheek as he whines in defeat, slumping back into his own space. “Thank you for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

“But the balloons are pretty” Donghyuck frowns, tugging on the string.

“She doesn’t like balloons, dude”

Your head whizzes around so quickly that you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, grinning wildly when you see Mark standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust, and your brows raise in surprise when you see Arin beside him. You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and you gesture them both to join you in your circle but Arin shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to meet up with someone else.

You watch as she places her hand on Mark’s bicep and asks if they can meet up later but Mark shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates before nodding in understanding, bidding him and the rest of you goodbye before leaving.

Mark lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude.

“Arin seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently” Jeno points out, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke in Renjun’s direction, causing him to cough and swat the smoke away with the book he’s got his face buried in. “You like her?”

Mark shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to come over this weekend”

“Are you?”

“Nah” Mark mindlessly starts plucking the grass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have time, got some assignments to finish for my classes”

Hearing him say he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you and you begin to wonder if Mark would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly being dicked down sooner rather than later.

It’s a birthday gift, you think to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Mark. It’s just a birthday gift. Yet, you have Jaemin right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex.

You could ask Jaemin to come over tonight, but why isn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy? Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping with Mark that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Jaemin doesn’t seem to be bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A soft call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, seeing Mark looking back at you with a kind smile. He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low as he speaks.

“Come home with me later? I have something for you”

“What is it?” You ask back, excitement filling your voice. Even though you weren’t a big fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Mark was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday. You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he had taken you away for the weekend.

It was the most breath-taking cabin you have ever been to, the sunset above the lake still photographed in your memory. The sight was beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out” Mark tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Renjun to engage in a conversation and you pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Donghyuck knocks his arm against yours, voice dipping low as he whispers in your ear.

“That plan B will come in handy after all—OUCH!”

“This is fucking ridiculous” You giggle as you’re blindly walked in Mark’s apartment, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing anything even though you tried to peek through the gaps between his fingers. Mark’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the apartment.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s bringing you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet.

You almost trip as Mark plants you down on a chair and he whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, your jaw dropping in awe as the splotches begin to disperse, allowing you to see what’s in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are presented in front of you on the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were 100% sure that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store.

You feel overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and sting, throat tightening over how thoughtful Mark had been. You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Mark snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and comes closer to you

“You asshole” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Mark secures the pointed hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Mark rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic bad against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he faces his back to you as he pulls open the refrigerator door to pick up a white squared box. He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the refrigerator door shut as he makes his way back to you.

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box even though you’ve already guessed its cake, rubbing your hands together excitingly as Mark places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard.

Sensing your eagerness, Mark lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, turning blank as you peek inside to see the miniature watermelon themed cake staring back at you. You raise your head at Mark who’s already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Shut up, you like watermelon just as much as I do” Mark scoffs, handing you one of the plastic forks and you take it out of his grasp with a smile. You go to take a piece but Mark makes a weird noise, causing you to freeze mid cut. “Wait—dude—jesus, let me take a photo first”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Mark fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide grin, almost blinded by the flash when Mark takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches with a few creative curse words that make Mark laugh.

He quickly takes this opportunity to slide beside you and holds his phone high to take a selfie of you both. You poke out your tongue, using your free hand to make bunny ears behind Mark’s head who grins and uses his own free hand to grip your cheeks and squeeze to force you into pulling a weird face.

Before you have the chance to complain, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting touch your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Mark takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his cheek, grinning evilly as the green frosting covers his skin.

“Alright, I deserved that” Mark sighs with a light laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you”

“You already know that's going on my Instagram, baby~” Mark teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying on the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing.

Mark manages to clean himself easily but notices you struggling, deciding to help you out as he picks up another napkin and takes a hold of your chin, facing you towards him as he gently taps at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin.

You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as he cleans you up. The concentrated look on his face causes your stomach to whirl and chest feel warm, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in on the area he needs to clean, tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

“Mark…” You call out his name softly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to notice how close you both are too as he takes in the limited space between you both, slowly taking his hand away from your face but he stops himself with a quiet noise, bringing his hand back to finish his job.

“Happy birthday, dude” Mark whispers to you as he finally wipes the frosting off of your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes.

Your breathing stops for a moment at the affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or what to do with him looking at you the way he is. Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as you curl your arms around his shoulders, pushing up onto your tiptoes to embrace him.

Mark’s arms slither around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful” You mutter, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “Truly, Mark. I’m grateful too… Thank you for making this birthday special again”

“It’s not over yet, you know” You hear him mumble. You go to pull back, to ask him what more he could possibly give you to top everything else but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling down to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom.

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party: dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident, decorating your body with the shiniest jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicating drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or briefly discussed over the phone, adding your own two cents into a situation which they eagerly agree with a nod their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip.

“Speaking of unusual relationships—” Sakura, one of your dearest friends, speaks up as she turns to look at you with a grin. “—girl, how’s it going with you and Mark? Things turned weird yet?”

“Nope” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole hooking up with your best friend culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about that shit”

Sua lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand. “I don’t know how you do it… I couldn’t imagine hooking up with Yeonjun. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level. Props to you”

Heejin looks at you. “Do you still fuck Jaemin?”

“On occasion” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped in assignments—”

“And Mark”

You give Sakura a smirk, “—that I haven’t really had time to call up Jaemin and ask to fuck. Besides, he doesn’t mind. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for extra cash”

“What about Mark? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing deep in thought before you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently”

Sua gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Mark standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Arin who’s smiling and nodding to each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Mark looks up to capture your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup and watching as he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest: a baggy white shirt paired with some loose fitted pants and doc martens you’re certain he stole from Donghyuck. A silver chain hangs from his neck and a cap sits backwards on the top of his head, you stifle a laugh at how much of a fuckboy he looks but you must admit, he looks good.

“Subtle with the lovey dovey eyes, sweetheart” Sakura teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He looks good though, so I don’t blame you”

“When was the last time you fucked Mark?” You aim your question towards Heejin who shrugs her shoulders.

“I don’t remember” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me”

Sua's eyes widen. “Is Mark’s cock big?”

“Yes” You and Heejin answer instantly, causing you both to laugh and high five each other. You drone out the complaints Sua makes about wanting to fuck someone with a huge cock and how Yeonjun always recommends her people that are both shitty in bed and lack personality, too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks, dismissing yourself from the girls for a moment as you spot Jeno and Jaemin pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them both with your presence, but Jaemin lazily smiles when he sees it's you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Jeno pats the back of your head in greeting, offering to fill your cup up which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Jaemin asks you, taking your hand in his and whirls you around, whistling lowkey as he takes in your dress. “You look pretty”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment he gives you on your outfit and bow. Jeno hands you your drink back and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room. “Where’s the rest of the guys anyway?”

“Donghyuck’s trying to get laid and Renjun’s around here somewhere chatting up a girl from his classes” Jeno informs, gulping down his drink with ease. “Mark’s been talking with Arin for the past hour—sweet girl is trying to make her move”

“Why aren’t you trying to show off your charms tonight?”

Jeno stares at you suggestively, smirking behind the rim of his cup. “Why would I when I got you and Jaemin right here?”

Your tongue pokes at your cheek, struggling to fight the urge not to smile. “Not funny. It was a one time thing, Lee… You were only there because Jaemin felt guilty he couldn’t last long enough to make me cum”

“Still had you screaming on my dick though” Jeno teases, gently knocking his fingers against your cheeks as you laugh. “And don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. Pretty sure if I tell Donghyuck I actually did get to fuck you before him, he’d end up losing his mind”

You ponder it for a moment, “It would be kind of funny though”

“What would be funny?”

“Donghyuck!” You squeal as he appears beside Jeno, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself in his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was” Donghyuck sighs, pulling away from the hug but keeping an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she had a boyfriend and he’s, like, six foot something and I didn’t feel like getting my ass handed back to me by slenderman himself”

You pout, pinching his cheek. “What a shame. The dry spell continues”

Donghyuck leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk. “You can change that for me if you want”

“In your dreams”

Donghyuck sighs jokingly, dropping his head low as his shoulders sag. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then. You sound even prettier when you’re moaning my name there—”

“What’s going on?”

The sound of Mark’s voice speaking up behind you causes you to whiz around quickly, beaming as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to turn the question around and ask him what’s going on.

But you didn’t want to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Mark uncomfortable putting him on the spot despite him continuously being open with the others. It’s not something to speak publicly about if it’s serious.

You touch his arm and give him a comforting squeeze to which he seems to relax, using your grip on him to tug you into his side and for Donghyuck’s arm to slip from your waist.

“The usual. Donghyuck trying to get her into his bed” Jeno fills him in, fishing a strawberry flavoured vape out of his pocket to take a drag and Jaemin retches at the smell, wafting it away with his hand. “How’s Arin?”

“Fine” Mark quips, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you”

Donghyuck immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? We all came here together, man!”

“I’m taking her home to fuck her, Hyuck” Mark deadpans, giving him an unamused look while your tummy swirls with excitement. “Do you want to watch?”

“Well—”

“I was kidding”

You’re in complete bliss with Mark hovering above you, your back arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Mark, but you don’t find the voice within yourself to complain, fingers winding through his hair with cries spilling from your lips, legs hooking over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other rests beside your head, stopping himself from laying his entire body weight on you.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth on your skin and looking up at him pleadingly but he’s frozen staring down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds in your chest at the compliment, body feeling a little more heated and warm.

“Mark—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and soft kiss, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Mark’s cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, causing electricity to shoot up your spine.

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs quivering around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specs flickering in your vision as you feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum” Mark whispers, breath fanning over your face. “Do it. Cum on my cock”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulsing inside, painting your walls white as he fills you up.

Mark’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to catch your breath, cringing and wincing as you feel him slowly moves his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive pussy, your hand falling from his face to drop down to your centre, gathering his cum that pools out on your fingers.

“I’m sorry” Mark mumbles against your skin. “I’m sorry, I—shit, I should’ve asked if I could, you know—” Mark raises his hand to make a jerking off motion which causes you to snort. “—I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry”

“It’s kinda cute that you’re apologising” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise. This isn’t the first time you came in me, Mark”

“I know” Mark runs his fingers through his sweaty bangs. “I usually ask though”

“Mark. It’s fine” You reassure him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you if you help clean me up though”

Mark smiles softly as he slips off of the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your legs as he gently cleans up the mess, gently dabbing around your sensitive areas and whispering apologies after apologies every time you hiss at the contact, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job.

You watch in silence as he cleans you up and you frown at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Mark being so closed up with his feelings and emotions. Mark hasn’t been open with you in a few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help. It makes you feel a little bit defeated.

Something was different, and you struggled to pinpoint what it was.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be asked and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Mark has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he was still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask. Mark freezes, hand clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Mark questions and you're a little stunned at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all, like, this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Mark seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“I—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Mark is speaking about yours and his situation that he was worried that you’d have negative feelings towards him. You’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Mark, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change. I’m keeping that promise”

Mark closes his eyes as his shoulders sink, “Dude, I—” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore”

“Do what?” You ask quietly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“This” He gestures between the two of you. “I just—I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you”

“Oh” You swallow thickly, a little surprised. “Why?”

“Things have changed” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart crumble at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend. It has to stop, it—” Mark sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “It can’t go on, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” You mumble as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you both as your throat tightens at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t do anything with you no more. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I don’t know what I did you make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait, what?”

“—I’m just sorry. Especially if I came across too strong and for putting you in such a position” You’re babbling your words now, unable to control yourself due to the overwhelmed feeling that washes over you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry”

“Wait. I don’t—”

“Let’s just not tell the others, okay?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Renjun. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start”

Mark calls out your name softly and reaches out to touch you but you’re already climbing off of the bed, looking for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room due to prior activities.

You’re too embarrassed to continue the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Mark already making your heart ache.

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare to cry in front of Mark right now.

“I’ll, uh, see you around” You mutter, shoving the heels onto your feet, casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry”

It's been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Mark.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now hates you.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you.

You miss him. Of course you miss him. He’s been your best friend for years—your other half, more like. There was no you without Mark and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue functioning with Mark by your side, as dramatic as it sounds, but you’ve always been dramatic.

The other boys have been blowing up your phone—courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Renjun rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Mark did actually go to shit. And you didn’t want to hear the others continuously question what had happened and what had changed.

Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless Canadian fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, but you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roomie what happened.

She gave you a deadpanned look, calling you stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you voicing that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings had suddenly turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended at her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not jump in even though you desperately wanted to.

“You’re jumped to your own conclusion” She told you when she was clearly up the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you sure have some serious miscommunication issues”

So that’s what leads you to now: you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Mark’s chat room with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you will listen.

you: i think we need to talk.

mark: i’m almost at ur house anyway i had to go get something

you: ???? u coming over

mark: yeah mark: i was going to make u listen to me mark: its important dude.

You snort at his last message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. You catch your leg nervously bobbing in the corner of your vision and your brows furrow, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight. As if that will stop you from feeling nervous.

You’re about to hear the reason why Mark’s feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it. Bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knock on the door rips you out of your thoughts, slowly turning your head with a confused look plastered across your face. Was that Mark? Mark never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always makes himself at home.

You push yourself up from the sofa and make your way towards the door, peeping through the hole to see Mark’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, unlocking the door and pulling it open to face him fully.

“Why did you kno—”

“Hate you?!” He cuts you off with a shout, immediately startling you with his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—jesus christ—how could I hate you?! Dude, I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too”

“I don’t hate you, at all… When I said to you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… it’s actually quite the opposite…” Mark trails off and before you can get the chance to ask him to explain what he means, your breath hitches at the back of your throat as he pulls his hands from behind his back: a bag of jellies in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just—I need you to listen”

You barely whisper, “Okay”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it was going to be” Mark tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the things in his hands to his eyes. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any of that official or exclusive title bullshit to make it complicated for us… yet here I am standing in front of you right now with the same jellies and flowers in my hand from when we first met about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling” You cut him off quietly, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Right, yeah, of course I am” Mark laughs with a shake of his head, awkwardly scratching his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case I wasn’t really thinking straight… but when we were at that party and I saw the guys flirting with you, I realised how much I actually do like you and that it wasn’t my dick talking”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking”

“Shut up” He smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips. “I’m in love with you, dude. And I totally get it if you want to reject me because of how weirdly this turned out but, uh, I would like to continue seeing you if I could be your... boyfriend”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Mark is waiting for an answer, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking for excitement or the fact that he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure.

The silence from you kills Mark, and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and the jellies out of his hand and step back inside the house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your non verbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend and he goes to turn around, to get the fuck off of your doorstep and hope that the intense embarrassment that he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear quickly.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of jellies, turning his head to see you looking at him with the most gentlest smile. He watches, chest erupting with warmth as you reach your arm out, angling the treat in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the giggles that leave him.

You’re giving him a jelly, you’re giving him a relationship.

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

#nct smut #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct mark smut #mark lee scenarios

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satoruhour · 9 months

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i need geto to grab my chin, stroke my cheek with his thumb, then spit in my mouth. maintaining eye contact the whole time? ugh. he’d de say “good girl”

ST☆RGIRL

a/n: yuuuum anon u guys r giving me the best ideas. also combining this with the geto in the brother’s bsf universe bc a lot of u have been asking for pt. 2, altho asking for a part two is pretty annoying. but i wanted to do a second one anyway lol. i made our brother gay btw + read the first part here / tagging @omgeto @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @slttygeto @kazushawty @peachsayshi

wc: 3.7k

warnings: secret relationship(?), soft dom!geto, reader is not a virgin but it’s her first time with geto, you almost get caught but it’s mild, dry humping / grinding, nipple play, spitting (in your mouth), praise, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

sneaking around your brother wasn’t exactly easy, given how they were almost always together by the day — if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were dating instead. the only time you had geto to yourself was in the middle of the week when your brother had gone back to pack more things and to visit his boyfriend, a sure time that you’d show up beaming and excited in front of their double dorm room while geto only gives you a lazy smile, tugging you into the room immediately.

sometimes it was the other way when your roommate went home for the weekend, geto knocking on your door in a wife beater and sweats, a small grin and reddened cheeks from running over; the prospect of hanging out with you always gets him speeding over.

his room was for wednesdays, yours for the weekend. a sweet little arrangement for the both of you.

now, geto suguru was the best boyfriend. he made sure you were always okay with his touches, his kisses. he had a silent way of caring, covering the top of your head when you reached down to pick up something under the table, refilling the trusty mug of water you brought around in the small dorm of yours, tidying up your table for the immense studying you’d be doing. it was the little things that you never noticed before you got addicted to him, but now it’s all you can think about when you gush about him to your friends.

and well, maybe, how good he was at teasing you.

no doubt suguru has had experience with other people before from how he always has you wanting more after a simple kiss, lips separating from yours to shoot you a quick smile and a gesture of manoeuvring you onto his lap. his touches are never-ending, rough, large hands spanning the beauty of your body as he names off feature after feature he’s noticed mature since you’ve both grown into adults. he makes the idea of wearing clothes abolutely offensive, grinding up into your centre and watching you fall apart, only to stop when he feels your hands tighten around his shirt.

geto knows you’re not ready, not when you’re doing some pulling away of your own as his hands creep towards your chest, fingers closing around his wrist before he can reach the buttons of your pants. all you can give him is a flustered smile, stuttering out an excuse with frantic hands. he just lets you — swallowing your apologies and tugs you into his embrace and talks about the newest tattoo he got instead — “we can just kiss and grind, baby. you tell me when you want to stop, okay?”

although you never do, makeout sessions always end with your hair in all places, your panties soaked and your lips swollen, not a single line crossed on geto’s side every time. it was an endearing trait of his; he never rushed you, never pressured you into “helping” him out, rather excusing himself to the bathroom quietly.

a smile spreads across your face when your phone lights up, the little profile picture of a sleeping suguru taking centre stage of your phone.

[11:43am, suguru (the bsf and now my BOYF???)]: hey baby, he just left. u wanna come over?

geto doesn’t even need to ask, because you’re already picking up your pre-packed bag and bid goodbye to your roommate who’s deep in her assignment, not noticing you’re gone until she’s shooting you a text after, asking you if you wanted anything for dinner. eating at the boyfriend’s place, no worries! thanks for asking :)

you’ve reached the other block in record time, amongst other many impressive timings, but while you’ve pressed the lift button and trying to catch your breath, the wind is knocked out of you again when the lift doors part and out comes your brother. you’ve never been so quick to come over before, avoiding situations just like this, but your sibling isn’t phased, simply shooting you a greeting.

“hanging with suguru?”

your breath is shaky when you exhale and you hope he doesn’t notice. “yea— yeah!”

his smile is unassuming, a hand outstretched and you barely make his high-five before he bids you goodbye with too loud of a goodbye, keeping up the clueless act until you’re stopping right in front of their door. your boyfriend doesn’t give you time to breathe, either, door swinging open to your dishevelled state and his chuckle would’ve almost buckled your knees if not for the adrenaline running through you.

“i just saw my brother in the elevator — are you insane?”

geto feigns a pout, “not even a kiss for the boyfriend?”

you roll your eyes with a smile and grab the neckline of his t-shirt, but what he says (“well, you’re the one who came running over, sweetheart.”) prompts you to grunt, shoving him away before you collapse face first into the sheets. they smell like you, you notice, but they’re mostly filled with geto’s natural scent, a calming combination of cinnamon and bergamot. there’s goosebumps on the back of your thighs — suguru runs his hand over it and up to your waist, flipping you onto your side and he coos at your annoyed face, settling into the bed with you.

“okay, no more teasing, hm?” he asks softly and you ignore the jump into your heart. you ignore how his tattoo covered arms are so gentle next to you, how his rougher finger tips brush your hair away like bees on a flower; almost ghost-like, so light, so soft, but you can’t. against your will, you huff, taking his hand silently and holding it, a small frown still present on your face and geto feels bad, now. he leans forward, taking your lips gently and you hate the way how pliantly you obey, sighing as you feel geto move against you.

your hand clutches at the pendant geto bought, a habit you’ve developed every time you feel overwhelmed. it was ironic, too, how the many times you’ve thumbed it was because of geto, and not so much of stressful exams or a weird guy at a party, but that thought’s out the window when geto pulls you onto him, moaning into your mouth when your thighs close in around him.

“you’re okay today, princess?” geto asks against your lips, and there’s no doubt lust swirling in the honey eyes of his — they’re the brightest always in the morning.

“i wanna—” you swallow, “try,” you sit up more comfortably, ignoring the tug in your core, “i don’t want to keep you waiting.”

geto’s brows furrow, “what? no— baby, you’re not making me ‘wait’, if anything i should be the one waiting for you.”

your hands are tense on his chest, he notices, bringing one to his lips before he places a kiss on your palm.

“you shouldn’t be compromising on your comfort to please me, my love,” geto mumbles into your hand, starting to kiss each finger individually until you’re closing your hand around his cheek.

“you’re so pretty,” you mutter softly and you’re jumping in celebrating in your heart when you can feel his skin heat up because your words affect him as much as it did you. you’re leaping for joy because how did you land such a caring lover that would put all your needs first? who’d tell you that you come first in everything—

geto suguru makes this so difficult always, but you’re already firm in your resolution, giving him a solid yes before a small smile spreads across his face, making the act of pulling you down by that same hand. you’re inches away, mind spiralling with how many positions he could put you in but—

there’s a jiggle of the knob on the door and you’re suddenly recoiling.

“are you expecting anyone?”

your boyfriend quickly shakes his head, but he brings you off his lap gently, setting you a safe distance from him. he arranges your hair in place and patting down the wrinkles on your shirt as the other person struggles to open the door and as always, he’s worrying about you, first — until that familiar, booming voice of your brother cuts through the tension and your disappointment is unmatched.

“hey guys!”

geto wanted to roll his eyes, as with you, but your oblivious brother doesn’t take much note of why your chests were heaving and your skin is sweaty, rather setting down his bags full of dirty laundry and the cute anniversary present he was ranting to you about — it felt like your work was undone, reversed, and you’re back to feeling intimidated, no doubt the presence of your brother making you feel like you were doing something sinful.

“so! wait, why do you look so—”

“oh, it’s nothin’, she’s just nervous for her upcoming exam,” geto answers almost immediately, removing the attention from you; it wasn’t entirely false, you realise, giving him a secret smile. “you were saying?”

“oh! yes, so, turns out…”

it’s nearing to the fifteen minute mark where your brother still continues to talk, rambling on about how his boyfriend’s moving date had been moved forward insread, so it was halfway throughout his journey that he got a text saying how it might be too chaotic for them to hang out — boxers, movers, the family dog barking at every stranger.

that heart-twisting, anticipating feeling had subsided by then, and while it was never a dull moment with the two of them, you left that dorm room feeling a little dissatisfied.

“i’m sorry, baby,” geto whispers to you later as your brother takes the chance to pee. he’d volunteer to send you back but the both of you didn’t want to risk anything more.

“next week?” geto asks, a hand to your cheek, “but of course, if you don’t feel it next week either that’s f—”

you give him a small grin, fingers covering his own shaking ones in comfort, “next week.” his lips barely leave your forehead in a peck before the toilet flushes and the door opens; geto teases your brother about not washing his hands and the two bicker just like years ago: hands flying everywhere and your giggles cutting through every insult they hurl at each other.

you can hear geto’s chuckle when you show up the next week, looking like you just ran a marathon again. this time you have no trouble avoiding your brother by hiding behind the wall beside the lift, though you hardly have any time for your boyfriend’s teasing laughter.

closing the door with your feet, you’re walking geto back into the room and his eyebrows raise at your determined face.

“are you sure you’re okay—”

without warning you’re clashing your lips into his, hands on his pecs and mewling softly when his arms naturally wrap around your middle.

“more than—” there’s a dramatic sigh when you feel hands caress your back, “okay.”

you’re just too enamoured with geto to carry on with your once self-assured actions, because you’re always like putty whenever you’re in his embrace. it happens without fail every time.

“you make me feel so,” swallowing, your eyes break contact and your head collides with his broad chest, “insane. you drive me crazy.”

you don’t miss how he winces a little, but soon he’s bringing your head off of him, biting his lip at your cute pouting face, possibly not knowing how even more obsessed he was with you.

a simple text from you has got his palms sweaty, and he goes through at least three drafted messages first before sending something, afraid he’d push over your boundaries or do something you won’t like. geto loves your smile, seeing your cheeks reach your eyes until there’s no more from a joke he made because you were talking about the cute little tattoo his little sister made him get. there wasn’t an end to suguru’s love for you; to see you, to feel you be so flustered and sheepish because of him drives him crazy — did you see the effect you had on him?

you simultaneously ruined and changed the definition of love for him; he’d never have anyone else.

you’re taken aback when geto tugs off his shirt and sitting right in the centre of his sternum is a woodcut tattoo of a halved sun, looking entirely contrasting with the traditional dragon that runs over his body and other ink-heavy pieces littered across his body. this was like a collection of ever-flowing lines that seem to bleed despite the bold lines that signify the end of the sun, it was you. your fingers trace over the tattoo under the protective film, your gasp prominent when there’s a small “to my sun” below it, paired with your initials — ambiguous enough if you were to break up, but geto hoped that would never be the case.

“got this for you last week,” suguru takes your wandering hand into his, words and actions gentle while he kisses the back of your hand, he laughs into your skin, “hurt like crap, i’m not gonna lie.”

“sugu—” your eyebrows are downturned just like your smile, “this is so pretty.” you’re in awe that he’d get something permanent for you, no doubt with such a cheesy line under the beautiful drawing.

“you’re so pretty.” geto smiles when you smile with a roll of your eyes, and you let him bring you into another kiss, softer this time as you let him lead, pulling you to his lap easily.

anyone who looked at the two of you could see the instant difference: geto with his inked arms and room oozing with posters and the gruff nature of him, and you with your bashfulness and sweet smiles and while geto is bound to be noticed first, he would rather sit in the shadows as your moon as he lets you charm everyone you come across. you’re just like that.

geto treats your body like glass, removing your top off of you gently as his hands span your torso and he sighs when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. “look at you…” and you’re giggling, drawing a smile from the other. slowly he looks to you for reassurance and you nod, prompting him to wrap a careful mouth around your nipple. your boyfriend moans when he feels you jerk at the contact, tongue swirling around your mound as he plays with the other and that’s all it takes for your fingers to tense around his shoulder.

“f— fuck, sweetheart,” you hear him groan into your chest, moving to other nipple and suckling on it, eyes closed in bliss while your head falls back, “you’re so perfect, my love.”

“am i, now?” you mumble breathlessly, “you should look at who’s talking.”

geto nods, coming off of your tits with a pop! and the grin he gives you is shit-eating, “yeah, so goddamn perfect.”

you’re impatient now, especially when you’re in full perception, body on display just for your lover to see, and your hips move slowly whilst your skin feels like liquid fire.

“need you, suguru,” it’s a soft whine that comes out of you, and geto moans at your neediness and the rock of your pelvis because he can practically feel your cunt clench around nothing and your clit throbbing, and while you’re both no stranger to this, the idea of going further than whatever you’re used to makes geto dizzy.

“yeah— i know, baby,” you’re on your back after, gulping when you’re finally left with nothing on your body, shorts and panties taken off and the glory of your body is like oxygen to him, “i need you too.”

gently, suguru pries your legs apart and he’s hooked on your wetness, the beauty of your labia and hole, leaking so much slick his breath is shaky when he exhales. the first contact with your clit is feather-like, and it’s all he does before he leaps in and eats like a starved man. the sensations are too much that your thighs are pulled taut, feeling the flat of his tongue draw a line up your pussy.

geto slurps at your arousal, putting pressure in his mouth and sucks like his life depended on it and your sounds are music to his ears. he groans when he feels your hands pull at his hair, tugging away or towards your pussy even he didn’t know but he relishes in how he’s able to make you feel like this.

“su— suguru, s-shit! your mouth’s—” you can basically hear the smile in between the messy eating of your boyfriend, emerging from your plush thighs for a moment to show you just how soaked the bottom of his face was.

“it’s what?”

you tsk at his teasing and you shove him back, ignoring the way his chuckles send chills up your body through your core, but geto is merciful, humming and moving his face against your cunt. his tongue is relentless as well, making you so pliant with just one muscle as he flicks it against your puffy clit. it’s when your entrance starts to clench around air is when he thinks you’re going to cum.

and he stops — your whines are so cute to him.

“what’s your deal, suguru?” your frown’s adorable too, but he makes it up to you with a sweet kiss and lets you taste yourself.

“want you to cum around my cock, baby. you can do that, can’t you?”

yes, geto felt like he wanted to combust. yes, geto felt like he needed a thousand and one photos to capture how angelic you looked right, but with how he’s talking right now, you only can look up at him with excitement despite not knowing the torture you were putting him through.

and so when he first nudges his tip past your hole, that facade drops entirely, eyes fluttering close at the tightness of your cunt and the spread of your pussy lips upon his dick. you were by no means a virgin, although you disclosed that it was a shitty first time when you first lost it, but the way you feel around his cock, closing in around him you both have had to take breaths together.

“so tight…” geto’s close to bottoming out, memorising how he made you fall apart so easily: your hands clutching tightly on his wrists, making your tits pop out more, the flutter of your pussy, your cute lil mouth stretching into a delicious ‘o’. “and so pretty, just like that.”

you hum at the praise and once he’s buried, your little pants become more frequent, leaving puffs of air on his cheek.

“move?”

“are you seriously asking me that right n— oh shit…”

geto unsheathes and slams into you, and he can feel the drag of your walls along his length. a small laugh leaves him, “just takin’ care of m’pretty girl.”

he’s only had your dripping pussy once and yet he already can’t get enough of it, starting to move his hips as he impales you on his cock. it’s the only thing your mind can focus on, feeling so full and filled with him that it hazes your brain and hypnotises you almost.

“su— ohmy g-god!”

geto’s hands tighten around your thighs at that and the thrusts get sloppy so fast, rutting into you with no end goal in mind other than to feel your tight hole around his length. your lover’s eyes fall to the way his cock slips into you and you take it so well — there’s no other pussy he’d want to feel around him, truly — you take the ram of his hips so good and the gushing of your cunt is answer enough for him.

your hands grab for him, fingers fumbling with his forearms to bring him to your lips. the kiss is filled with drool, tongues slamming into each other as his hips stutter and jolt at the clamp of your pussy, and when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

you’ve talked about it before and it’s like he reads your mind before anything even begins; his hand grabs at your chin, so lovingly and different from how disgustingly rough he was slamming into you. his thumb goes over your supple skin, and he doesn’t need much to pry your mouth open but—

“open.” and your tongue comes out like second nature and you try not to show your excitement when geto gathers saliva, spitting the ball of liquid straight into your mouth. it hits your tongue hot. his honey eyes are darker now as he watches how obediently you swallow — he swears he can see hearts in your eyes.

“good girl.” geto smiles again, propping your legs up against your chest now in a mating press and you whine in surprise. the position gives him access to the deepest parts of you, and one hand sneakily rubs at your clit in time with his faltering thrusts and you’re cumming with a cry of his name.

“suguru— yes, yes! f-fuck— right there, baby,” you’re sobbing, seeing splotches of white in your vision as your high seem to overtake your senses. it hits you in all the right spots, giving geto his little gift of cumming around him and multiplying it tenfold by how your cum seeps into the sheets. it’s so much that all he can hear is the lewd squelch of your cunt and one more moan is enough for geto to groan into your neck.

“going to give you my cum, darling,” your “yes’” resonate in his ear and it spurs him on to finally cum, shooting his load deep into your womb and filling you with so much hotness. it’s too much but you love it and geto hisses at how your juices and his semen seem to seep out, “that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

there’s a sly little grin when he lets down your legs gently and you’ve grasped at your pendant so hard it’s detached, and he quells all your doubts with a single kiss and the sun on his chest.

“i’ll just get you a new one, baby. you deserve that much.”

why did i write sm....

#anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru

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