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#vibe: smutty
kingofbodyrolls · 3 months
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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bluejeanstrash · 2 years
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manspread.
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pt. 2 mansplain, pt. 3 manipulate
okay but arrogant and borderline chad cheol who’s your college dorm mate. you were high-key into him when you saw him move in, and even flirted with him at the housewarming party. but then he opened his mouth and you realised everything that comes out of it is insufferable. 
and now, it’s dorm movie night and he’s sitting on the couch manspreading like a fucking douchebag who couldn’t give a fuck that you’re smushed in the corner. throughout the movie his thigh is pressed right up against yours which makes you feel kind of lightheaded. halfway through, one of your dorm mates heads to bed while the other steps out for a smoke but cheol still doesn’t move.
annoyed, you get up to leave and ask why he can’t sit like a normal fucking person and he throws his head back and laughs at your question, making you feel slightly self conscious. he tells you his cock is too fat and he needs the space to sit comfortably. you scoff, disgusted, but can’t help but wonder if there’s any truth in that sentence. he asks if you don’t believe him and want to see. he’s messing with you but it makes you feel something in the pit of your stomach. but you roll your eyes and tell him you’d rather die and go to your room. 
still drunk from the night, you lie down. the room’s spinning but your thoughts keep circling back to cheol. his heavy eyes with those pretty pretty lashes, those thick thighs that fill out his sweatpants so well, that silver ring that sits on his veiny hands, and his thick dick?…you wonder how it would feel if he slapped it against your face. you doze off thinking about him.
2 hours later you wake up at midnight with a dry mouth, feeling tipsy and thirsty…so fucking thirsty. you stumble over to the kitchen and see cheol still watching tv - legs spread and hands behind his head. the room is dark except for a single light and the flickering light from the tv.
he looks at you and asks if you’ve changed your mind. you ignore him and grab a drink of water but can’t help but look over at him. his hair is messy in front of his eyes and it irritates you. you want to push it back. ‘can you even see anything?’ you don’t know why you’re asking. he says he can see everything he wants to see and stares at you a second too long. you feel your cheeks burning as you look around the kitchen for something to eat. you’re not hungry but you don’t want to leave yet. the air is oppressive but intoxicating. 
as you struggle to reach for a snack on the top shelf, cheol gets up and stands behind you to grab it. his entire body is pressed up against you and you know you want him. fuck it you think and turn around - nothing that happens between 12 am to 4 am counts anyway.
he looks down, a faint smirk on his lips, as if he knew this was always going to happen, and kisses you, pushing you up against the counter. you grab onto his body to steady yourself and fuck, he feels so thick, so strong, so solid. you know you’ll regret this in the morning.
he pushes his tongue into your mouth and as your kisses become sloppier, you feel his cock growing against you. you look down to see his dick print forming in his sweatpants and feel almost feral. you have to know how thick it is.
‘come’ he grabs you by the throat ‘let me show you’ he says almost like he’s read your mind and drags you to the couch. he sits, legs spread as you kneel in front of him, scrambling to get his sweatpants off. he chuckles, satisfied by your desperation.
he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls to make you look up at him ‘who knew you were such an easy slut’ he says and smiles at you so sweetly, dimples and all. it’s sickening but it makes you feel that familiar knot in your stomach. the sweet sound of degradation.
it also makes you pull his sweatpants off faster. as you pull them down, you muffle a gasp. fuck, it’s definitely better than what you were imagining just 2 hours ago. his cock is thick and heavy, and when you wrap your hand around it your fingertips almost don’t touch. ‘mmmh’ he lets out a lazy moan as you start to jerk him off.
‘put it in your mouth’ he says a few seconds later. how dare he tell you what to do. asshole. you can’t stand him. yet…you reach forward and take him in your mouth. but it’s difficult. he’s too thick and you’re having a hard time opening your mouth that wide.
‘too big for you?’ he asks, already knowing the answer. ‘lick then’ he says putting just the tip in and starts to jerk off in your mouth. ‘look at me while i use your fucking mouth like a fleshlight...’ like reflex, you legs squeeze together at his words. shit.
you feel his body shake as he laughs at you. a loud mocking laugh. ‘did hearing that turn you on? pathetic…’ he jerks off with one hand, while the other grabs at the tank top you’re wearing and pulls it down, exposing your tits. he squeezes them, twisting and pulling at your nipples before letting go. 
you look up at him. you can’t believe you’re kneeling in the middle of the common living room with your tits spilling out, licking cheols cock. it’s humiliating. how did this happen? what’s wrong wi-
he notices you start to think and instantly slaps his cock against your face. he doesn’t want you to think, he wants you to be stupid and suck. it works. his cock feels so heavy and big and you love the sound it makes as it hits you. it’s hypnotic.
he slaps it again as you look at him, lips parted and your eyes slightly glazed over. at that moment cheol promises himself he needs to see you like this again.
he needs to see you completely thoughtless, just mindlessly craving his cock. he can’t wait. 
‘open your mouth’ you obey. he takes three of his fingers and pushes them in, fucking your mouth with his fingers. ‘try again’ he says pulling his fingers out and rubbing the saliva across your mouth. you lean forward and as you slowly start bobbing up and down, taking a little more every time, a dull ache spreads across your jaw. ‘fuuughck…that’s it…’ he groans.
‘again’ as you continue sucking him off, you feel your jaw start to loosen up a bit. suddenly, he pushes the back of your head down with his hands as he bucks his hips up, his dick hitting the back of your throat. he holds you there counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ and releases as you start coughing. ‘there you go…see? all you’ll need is a little practice’
your stomach turns at his words. why is talking like this is going to happen again?
‘breathe..’ there’s a strange silence as you try to catch your breath - it feels like an invitation to stop if you want.
but you don’t want to stop. you want him.
so, you take his cock in your hand and start to jerk him off again, bending to lick his balls. ‘hmmn, fuck yes’ he leans back on the couch, his t-shirt riding up to show a hint of his toned stomach, hands interlocked behind his head, and eyes shut as he smiles lazily to himself. he’s never looked hotter.
‘okay now’ he opens his eyes a few minutes later and starts gathering your hair into a ponytail. ‘you going to make me cum?’ it’s not a question.
with a tight grip on your hair he pushes you down onto his cock and starts to fuck your face.
‘good slut’ he groans his rhythmic thrusts starting to get a little sloppy. ‘i’m going to cum in your dirty little mouth and you’re going to drink up every last drop...understand?’ he asks as you moan in response, your pussy throbbing. 
‘fuck’ you hear his breathing becoming heavier. 
you feel yourself getting wetter the more aggressive his thrusts become and when his hips start moving frantically, you know he’s close.
‘fuck…fuck…fu..’ he groans with a final thrust as warm cum starts to fill your mouth. he holds your head down as he continues cumming, his cock twitching.
you feel yourself running out of breath as you desperately push him back but he holds you in place for a second longer and then lets go. you gasp for air, cum and saliva spluttering out of your mouth. you’re a mess. 
you feel cheol staring at you as you try to pull yourself together. you can tell he’s pleased with how used you look. he grins, scooping the cum dripping out and pushes it back in your mouth. ‘i said every. last. drop’
you lick the excess from his fingers without thinking. your head’s reeling from the lack of oxygen and your mouth feels worn out. but there’s a feeling…a strange satisfying feeling that you can’t put a word to.
you look up at him. he’s sitting just like he was a couple of hours ago - relaxed, satisfied, cocky. you hate him.
‘you did good’ he wipes the saliva around your mouth. ‘next time i’ll allow you to cum on my face. hmm? how’s that sound?’ he asks so sweetly it almost feels condescending.
‘there’s not going to be a next time’ somehow your words don’t sound too convincing.
he smiles. it’s like he knows something you don’t.
‘yes, there will’
smug asshole. you really fucking hate him.
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crazy-ache · 2 months
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13 on the kiss prompt for Elucien pretty please!
13...discreetly
"Please, Lucien," Elain bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. "A little discretion would be appreciated, given my entire family is watching us from the window."
But the hand that was currently sneaking up her bare leg from beneath her skirts did not stop. Finger by tantalizing finger, they crawled up from her ankle, to shaking knee, to clenched thigh. With a feigned neutral face, Lucien looked over his shoulder toward the house, where peering eyes waited.
"Just smile and wave, Elain." Without missing a beat, her red-haired mate flashed the most rakish smile at their onlookers.
Elain inhaled a sharp breath, lifting a hand to wave at her sisters and their mates. She and Lucien were having a picnic in the garden. They were facing the river, while their backs burned from their curious and nosy stares, always eager to monitor their courtship.
Just as she met Feyre and Nesta's eyes, his devious fingers now found themselves between her legs. Only by the mercy of the Mother was her throbbing core covered from view by the thick fabric of her skirts.
She gripped the blanket and fought every muscle that ached to arch and grind into his touch. "You absolute scoundrel," she gritted through her smiling teeth.
"Don't worry dove, I won't let them find out about your wicked ways." Lucien winked, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss on her lips, swallowing her moan with a grin.
Kiss prompts.
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ejunkiet · 9 months
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apparently all I can write at the moment is smut jfgkasdf
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“Nice and toasty”
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no plot, no direction whatsoever. i cannot sleep, i cannot get the hush scene out of my head, i have much love for shuri, there is a sara x shinobu fanart (genshin) that i saw and has been stuck in my head ever since, simply wanted to blow off some steam. ***needless to say, it’s smutty towards the end.***
“I’m coming back. I’m coming back for you.”
“Liar.” You mutter, voice soft and shaky, small tendrils of clouds escaping out of your mouth as warm breath collides with the icy cold air.
Around you, fluttering from the sky with such beauty and elegance are a flurry of fluffy white snow. Some of the tiny ice blossoms softly kisses you on your cherry suffused cheeks while others keep making their descend until they grace the ground with their velveteen presence.
Meanwhile, you walk the white carpet, drenched to the bone like a drowned rat, swaying and wobbly on your feet like a sickly leaf precariously hanging onto its branch. It has been amidst creating snow angels on a thick blanket of snow, giggling like toddlers and savouring the little flavourful bits of your shared moment together, that your fun has been rudely spoiled. After all, your girlfriend has left her nation not to have a date with you but to attend an important conference.
Going out tonight with you has been a risk she is willing to take, and you, having been missing her sorely after being apart for quite a spell, have had no reasons to say no. However, walking back to your apartment snow soaked and alone is definitely not how you have pictured the grand finale of your date. You have been having such great time, stealing sweet kisses and drenching each other in saccharine words. Making the most out of your little time together, you have been squeezing it for all its worth. Not a dot is to leave unspared. How anticlimatic that it has to end the way it is.
As your mind has been plagued with rampant thoughts, it is no surprise that you fail to notice the presence of another until a hand is tightly pressed over your mouth. Startled, you struggle. Nothing but foolish attempts that bear no fruits as an arm slithers across your waist. It maintains a strong, unyielding grip, as you are pulled into a body, and being pulled further still into a dark alleyway. Your struggles, however, do not cease, writhing and kicking your feet with all your might.
“Shhh, it’s me, love.”
The warmth of her breath softly caresses the tip of your ear. Her voice, husky and hushed, is a tranquilliser, dissolving in you ear like warm cocoa. Only then do you calm.
Caged in her arms and sandwiched between her body and the wall is you, and suddenly, you find the cold no longer a bother. You watch a finger finding home on her lips, a silent hint for you to keep quiet. As she peeks her head out from your hiding place to survey the vicinity, all you can feel is your heart throbbing giddily. How she can make but a plain gesture, something as mundane as hushing, ridiculously, arrestingly captivating is beyond you.
“I think I’ve lost them.”
She looks mighty fine simply standing before you. So, finding your fingers wandering towards her waist, too, is beyond your control.
She welcomes you eagerly, unclasping your fingers on her waist only to reposition them behind her back. “Come here.” Her arms then find home across your back, gathering you into her chest and keeping your bodies firmly pressed together.
It feels as if a thick, cosy blanket has been settled over you. Her body heat alone seems to instantly thaw the chill in your very bones as you feel pleasantly warm all over. Your face has found sanctuary in the little nook of her neck where you nuzzles her like an affectionate kitten.
“Hmm, you’re so warm.” When you hum, she counters. “You’re so cold.”
Her hands leave you. They are instead brought over to her mouth where she blows warm air into the little cocoon, rubs them against each other. Once satisfied, she settles them atop your cheeks, gingerly cradling the frozen cherries in the warm palms of her hands.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come back sooner, my love.”
Her forehead descends onto yours, her lips whisper-soft as she kisses the lovely, little arch of your nose.
“But, I know just the thing to make you warmer.” You feel her smile on your lips when she presses a kiss that, to your disappointment, do not linger. “Come. Let’s quickly get ourselves out of here.”
And that is how you find yourself back in your apartment, straddling your girlfriend’s thighs as the mighty panther feasts on the succulent swells of your breasts.
Her eyes are a mesmerising dark, two black holes pulling you in as wicked lips leave nebulae in their wake. Like a starved man, she suckles your tender flesh with frenzied desperation. Stars burst beneath her mouth. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids. Your waist is a home to her hands, and her nape, a home to yours. A harsh suckle coupled with a flick of her twisted tongue has you mewling wantonly, back curving and fitting flawlessly into your lover’s front. Two puzzle pieces coming together.
By the time her warm mouth detaches from your soft mounds, she is as salacious a mess as you are. A thin glistening line of saliva bridging the two of you, your breasts are dewy with drool, as well as her face for there are little rivulets of spit raining tantalisingly down her chin. Your lover looks every bit the portrait of a majestic panther, ravenously devouring you as though you are her little morsel. In fact, you are, and the realisation has liquid lava pooling in your gut.
Greatly galvanised and irrevocably aching, you are but a moth to a flame, diving down for her mouth like a madman. She receives you all too eagerly, careful yet determined digits digging into your ribcage as your fingers venture into her healthy curls. They hold her there, grip white-knuckled tight.
“There. I’ve thawed my sweet little meal and made her nice and toasty. Ready for the taking.”
As she fuels your needs with her sinful remarks, all you can think in your hazy head is that there is no better way to end the night than being undone by your mighty panther’s cleverly wicked mouth. After all, you can confirm from experience that they are capable of unimaginable crafts that will have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
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artemiseamoon · 10 months
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He JUST got on screen and I’m already 😍😍😍
Bad boy Boyd with tattoos + gold jewelry just -
I’m already freaking out.
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Me
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novelconcepts · 4 months
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The best experience I ever have writing is when I pop open a document and a whole story unravels, fully-formed, just like it was always meant to be there.
Unfortunately, my much more common writing experience is going “okay, I’ve got three images and some Vibes; wheeeeere are we going, and why is that cliff getting closer with every step?”
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kingofbodyrolls · 5 months
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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm
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*Part of 'the winter collection'. Read part two. Part three coming soon!
Summary: You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.
Pairing: Jimin x female reader
AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut.
Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.
Word count: 6,1K
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other.
Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀
Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because).
Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜
AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜
If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀
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“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.
“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”
“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.
A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.
Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.
Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.
The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.
Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.
“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.
“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.
You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.
Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.
“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.
You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”
Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.
In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.
“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.
He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.
Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.
You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.
“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.
In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.
You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.
The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.
Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.
“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.
“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.
“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.
Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.
“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.
Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.
“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.
“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.
“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.
You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.
Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.
You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.
You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.
“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.
You nod your head.
“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!
“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.
“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold. 
“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.
An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.
You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄
Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂
Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.
A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.
“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.
“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.
After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”
Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.
Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.
Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.
“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket. 
“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.
With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.
A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket. 
“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles. 
You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility. 
“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response. 
“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space. 
“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.
“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.
Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body,  his di—
Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.
His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze. 
“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air. 
“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone. 
“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips. 
A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.
You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.
“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect. 
Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours. 
He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”
His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave. 
His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck. 
His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.
Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.
“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you. 
His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy. 
“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.
And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.
Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?
He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.
“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.
He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.
“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge. 
Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.
“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more. 
A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.
He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?
The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.
“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand. 
He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.
His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!
Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.
“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.
You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.
“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you. 
You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment. 
You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not. 
Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.
“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.
He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.
“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”
He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own. 
Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him. 
Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps. 
Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue. 
“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.
He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.
He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.” 
You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.
“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.
He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two. 
“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.
His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste. 
However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips. 
“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you. 
You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip. 
He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”
You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.
You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand. 
His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence. 
You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.
He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.
As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.
You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.
He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”
You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.
A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.
A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.
He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?
“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.
“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.
Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.
Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.
The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.
As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.
You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.
“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.
“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.
Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.
Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.
“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.
“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.
He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.
“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.
You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.
A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”
His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.
Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.
His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”
A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.
“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.
Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.
“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.
His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.
Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.
As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.
As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.
With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.
As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.
Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.
Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.
He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.
He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.
Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.
Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.
His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.
As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.
As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.
“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.
“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.
The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.
As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”
You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?
You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.
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Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.
As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.
As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.
Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.
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whoreiaki-kakyoin · 2 years
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Your f/o instructing you to get yourself off for them, only to go down on you immediately when you cum, pushing your sensitive body to another orgasm right on the heels of your first so that you’re mewling, whining, squirming as you gasp and cry that it’s too much, it’s too much, you can’t, please, but they keep going. They lap you up like they can’t get enough of you, gripping your legs and chuckling against you as you let out wrecked, desperate sounds. They know it feels so intense, but they also know it’s going to make you feel so good.
(Minors/ageless blogs/p.orn blogs/discourse blogs DNI)
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roslynnnikole-blog · 21 days
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It's taken me days to try to articulate what I feel about Crescent City in one, coherent rant. Specifically, this first book..
There was SO much world building; I was practically pixelating into Lunathian, itself, watching the buildings rise around me, the river, the people.
Then? The story. Already ripping my heart out in just a few chapters. Now... The story continues. Twists, turns, surprise, and realization. This is NOT first person narration. The main characters hide much of their thought process until it's time for a reveal. We get to be surprised alongside other characters.
Now, let's get into SJM's ability to make all Hel break loose in the final 100 pages. I was STRESSED. I was INVESTED. I was... Completely, utterly, and unapologetically SHATTERED. I've never cried so hard, felt so much heartbreak, anxiety, and hope in such a short span of a book.
I still haven't fully recovered, even after finishing the series. My throat catches in desperate love and devotion amongst these characters. All I have to say from here? "Light it up." 😭🌙⚡✨
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toomuchracket · 1 year
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i've been thinking about a literal interpretation of if you're too shy, like having a spicy relationship with matty over the phone ("i've been wearing nothing every time i call you") and on insta and then you finally meet somewhere -> "i found a motel" = those aesthetically pleasing "love" motel rooms with the heart shaped beds and bathtubs. ♡ almost a little lana del rey coded.....
you are speaking my LANGUAGE with the lana thing that woman has been my idol lifestyle coach and ride or die since i was prepubescent <3
ok so maybe you meet once at the bar in the chateau marmont (really leaning into the lana thing), and although you chat the whole night and properly hit it off and the sexual tension is just sizzling between you the most you guys share are kisses and numbers and social medias because he's off on tour literally the following day. it starts with liking on instagram and whatnot, but neither of you can get the other off your mind, so you start talking on the phone (and like i mean talk like chat get to know each other) and it soon turns... flirty, to say the least, and you get to a point where you don't bother dressing before he calls because you know it'll end with you at least semi naked and him talking you into orgasm. and then once you tell him that, phone sex becomes facetime sex, which happens maybe twice before matty's like "fuck this i really need you here's where i am where are you and where can we meet". and you fly somewhere and he flies somewhere and you guys drive around for a minute trying to find somewhere you can get a bed (this is the ride/robbers driving moment of my dreams), and then you come across this motel just straight out of the 60s, all pink and red and heart shaped and EXACTLY what you need right now. and the tension has been building and building since you guys met, so you know the sex is just FILTHY good and total release for you both. and then, honestly, the first post-sex cig you and matty share is the best post-sex cig of your life <3
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sleepysnk · 1 year
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wakasa burying his face in your tits after a long day>>
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doonarose · 5 months
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It's such a weird feeling, this willingness to be in fandom and to write and yet I can't?!? Like, I feel like I'm hovering at the edges and don't know what to do with myself. What to write or how to engage. It's very strange.
I say all this having enjoyed amazing comments on the big series I just finished up. Like, thank everyone for that, enormously. 110K plus words of mostly smut and feelings (wait, entirely) and so many lovely comments. But like, where does that leave me?
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kissmejusttokissme · 2 years
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do you have any steddie fic recs?
Do I ever!!! Thank you for asking me this because there are so many fantastic fics that I need everyone to read :) (These are not listed in any particular way, I love them all equally and couldn't pick my favourite if I tried.)
The Babysitters Club by salemofficialbb [completed] I don't actually know if I read this or Sub Culture first but I know that I consider both of them my introductory fics when it comes to Steddie. This fic is a chat-based fic that focuses on the older kids and their efforts to get Steve & Eddie together. It's cute and it's fun and it's one I reread when I need to smile. It's got Ronance, it's got Jonathan/Argyle and a ship I really like but don't see a lot of, which is Vickie/Chrissy. I laughed out loud while reading this, I squealed at times, I felt lighter after finishing it. (Also, something I did not notice the first time around because I'm v dumb is that most of the time when the characters send photos in the chats, the author links to a Tumblr with the photos so you can see them. It's immersive and I love it and yeah, please read this fic if you want to smile.
sub-culture by palmviolet [completed] I know this one gets recommended all the time but there's a reason for that. This fic is just mind-blowing in every way. It's beautifully written and the author has such a grip on the characters that they might as well just start writing for the show. It had me hooked from the first chapter where Steve helps Eddie through a panic attack and I read the whole thing in one sitting and my life is better for it, I think. The author takes such care in writing the story in a way that's respectful not only to the time period (make sure you read the author's notes because I have learnt so much about 80s gay culture from this author) but also with the characters. I really feel like I'm not doing it justice but I don't want to spoil anything about it because it's just amazing. If you haven't read it, please do. It's well worth your time. [Also, while I'm here, please consider reading palmviolet's other works such as the lathe (a time loop fic that's taken years off of my life) and their who says it was simple series (I am a simp for Eddie & Max interactions and would like to see more of them.)
Camp Folktale, Summer of ‘86 by cairparavels [WIP] I'm pretty sure I rec'd this in a Waiting Room author's note because I am obsessed with it. It's a fluffy little camp councillor's au and every update has me kicking my legs and losing my mind. All the ingredients for a good soup are in this fic: Steve being uselessly in love with Eddie, Eddie being uselessly in love with Steve, the kids being little shits and trying to get them together, the kids having fleshed out little stories alongside Steve and Eddie, Ronance, Chrissy and Fred (which I didn't expect but love) and Mews II playing a pivotal role in not only Steddie's story but my happiness. The author updates incredibly regularly and every update is great so don't let the fact it's a WIP put you off. It's worth your time and a nice cheerful story if you want a break from reading a lot of angsty fics.
all my ghosts (are with me) by steve_the_hair_harrington (peter_parkerson) [completed] This is a series of three fics that focus on Steve's reaction to sleeping with Eddie for the first time. The first two don't feature Eddie as a character but rather they focus on Steve & Robin as she tries to help him through his realisation that he likes Eddie. All of the parts are very well written and the friendship between Steve & Robin is spot on. (Not to go on a tangent but I also really appreciate the way that this author writes both Robin & Eddie as autistic characters. I felt it was handled really respectfully and also showed that two people can be autistic and have different ways of presenting it, which is always really nice to see.)
I Wake Up When Everyone's Gone by beetlesandstars [completed] This one is angsty as hell and I love it. This one-shot focuses on how Steve and, to a lesser extent, Dustin deal with Eddie's death. It's not a very long read but manages to do a lot in a little amount of time and I love when stories really focus on grief. It's one of my favourite things to read about/consume. Especially when they tackle the idea that grief isn't uniform and one person's grief isn't going to be the same as another even if they're grieving the same person. And this author does that beautifully.
Who the fuck reads to you in hell? by lichtbringer (percyinpanties) [completed] Another one-shot. This fic is about Steve reading Lord of the Rings to Eddie while he's in the hospital recovering from the events of volume two. I love the snapshots of his friends while he's in the process of waking up. I love the characterisation of Steve. I love that Eddie is alive and being taken care of. I just love this fic.
Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd [completed] Another classic when it comes to Steddie fics but one that I've only recently got around to reading. This fic features Eddie working at Family Video with Robin & Steve and the slow-burn but incredibly sweet story of them falling in love. It also features Robin/Vickie and I smiled every time they were mentioned because they're so cute and I love them. Like with Sub-Culture I don't want to mention specific scenes and ruin them but there are so many amazing scenes in this fic. I really loved how the author incorporated the kids in a way that felt really natural as well as Wayne. It felt like the world was alive outside of Steve/Eddie and I just loved it. Definitely recommend this fic and also Not so Bad by the same author.
Some Cupids Kill With Dice by horrormoviebarbie [WIP] I bookmarked this fic with Lady Gaga's speech from that meme because I truly felt like it encapsulated the way I felt about it. In this fic, Steve Harrington is a single father to Dustin & Max who falls in love with his kid's English teacher, Eddie Munson. There are four chapters out right now and each of them felt like a gift from the universe. This author not only understands Steve on a cellular level but manages to create a story so amazing separate from the events of Stranger Things (I believe this is an AU in which there are no monsters) that I would not only buy it as a published book but I also want to see it made into either a TV Show or Movie.
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic [completed] So I read the entirety of this fic in one sitting last night and it has changed me as a person. The characterisation of the kids as adults is perfect. The fear of rejection and the sunken cost mentality that if you leave something for too long then it's not worth touching? Killed me. The depiction of death (especially from a long-term illness) and the different types of grief that follow it took me out and put me back together again. I want to own Ed Levy's discography. I want to pin his interviews up on my wall. I want Madchen and Robin to be my best friends. I want this fic tattoed onto the back of my eyelids.
I don't know how many you wanted so I'm going to leave it there in case I've maybe gone a bit overboard. I do have more so if you'd like more, please let me know because I love talking about the amazing fics that I've read. Also, if you're reading any of these for the first time and you're enjoying them, please make sure to leave a kudos and a comment telling the author just how much you've loved them!
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worldsokayestdragon · 1 month
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Everyone's so into toxic yuri/toxic yaoi on this sight, and obviously there are a million unhealthy straight relationships, so is it too much to ask that I get to see a fucked up and evil QPR? Just two people who are completely obsessed with each other and basically function as a unit and also actively make each other worse but it isn't romantic and they aren't fucking about it they're just platonically Like That? Just because I'm aroace doesn't mean I don't want to join in on shipping a couple of disasters hand in unlovable hand!
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ejunkiet · 1 year
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my original projects are expanding.... gotta love contemporary fantasy worldbuilding >:3 there is now a sexy sidestory to ‘ropes and fangs’ exploring the dynamics of the fae, specifically: changelings. also maybe a werecat.
look, i’m having fun okay >:3
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