Im A Horny Bitch - Tumblr Posts
I don’t normally read incomplete series because my obsessive brain won’t turn off if it’s not resolved but shit goddamn this is so good. Check the authors master list for a couple extra chapters! I read it before and thought about it over the past couple months. I’m so glad it made its way back to me 🤩🤩🤩
I’m so into reading stories about sexting etc the desire build up is just…I can’t get enough. This is like the epitome of that for me. I will come back to this one again.
Miss Dial [fratboy!yoongi x reader] | 1
VERY MUCH CO-WRITTEN BY THE LOVELY AND EFFERVESCENT @cyphertrip <3333 PLEASE SEND HER INSANE AMOUNTS OF LOVE, OKAY?
{ chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | coming soon! }
[11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud?
[11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi
Rated M for explicit sexy shit, including but not limited to Yoongi’s creative language and lascivious use of cell phones. Also alcohol and partying!!! Based off of THIS gem from Texts From Last Night :-) Word count 6.1k.
It happened every single time you came here.
Keep reading
First of all,
“You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer.”
I relate to this hard. Just in real life.
Secondly, the scene in the hallway?!
Everything is fine. I’m fine. I didn’t just read a cute hot fic about my two biases. Nope def not me 🫠🫠🫠
the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin
masterlist.
threesome series part 2/4.
pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3
-
The camper van was the best idea you ever had. It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight.
On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry. It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed. You love it more than anything in this world.
Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work. Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.
“Is she calling the computer her baby again?” Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain.
“Yes,” Changbin says. He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt. He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.
That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job.
You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy. Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves. Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations. Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.
It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van. The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced. Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion. It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one.
The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge. So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress.
“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”
“Yah! Rude woman! You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point. “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.”
“I’m not a nerd!” You definitely are. You stare at the cocktail dress morosely. “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things! That’s what you guys are good at!”
“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says.
“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say.
Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning.
“How charming?” he teases, cocky. “Describe it to me.”
“Shut up.” You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered. “I can’t go in there. People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room. We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.”
“That won’t happen,” Minho says. His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening. “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”
You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face. His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.
Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho. It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala. To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning. The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face. He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin. There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face. He is practically glowing.
He knows he looks good. His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions. You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh.
“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you.
Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross. You hit him with the cocktail dress again.
“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once. “At least no one will be looking at me.”
You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter.
You like dressing up so this part is no problem. The problem with parties is other people. You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.
You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game. It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once. You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.
Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that. Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat.
You open the curtain, scowling. You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you. But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho. Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest. His expression gets very serious when he looks at you. He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further.
“Turn around,” he says.
The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else.
Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching. Minho tips his head like he is studying something.
“Thank you,” Minho says.
You face them again, hot in the face. You cross your arms angrily.
“What was the point of that?” you demand.
Minho lifts a single eyebrow. “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious. “It’s a good one. You should be proud.”
You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk. He catches it smoothly.
“Can we just go already?” You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van.
It is very strange being on this side of the operation. You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones. It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat.
You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI. You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around. It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel. You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there. You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.”
You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.
Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman. You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can. Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks. First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring. Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system.
“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards. It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night. “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.
“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice. You think it is directed at both you and Changbin. He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look. “You’re doing fine,” he says.
You feel like terror is written all over your face. It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws. They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine.
“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.
“Not a bad idea,” he says. He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips. “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.” You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine. He rests his hand on your nape. “Look sick,” he says. “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.”
You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party. Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.
Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease. You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub. Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length. It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling. There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play. You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing. It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors. You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers. You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code.
You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply.
“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says. “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”
“What!” You start to panic immediately. “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”
“Relax, relax!” Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders. He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help.
“We’re good,” Minho says. “It’s just a waiter, not security.”
“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say.
“By a waiter?” Minho asks. He gives your shoulders another squeeze. “Is he going to beat us with a baguette? Hey, hey, relax.”
You are a vibrating bundle of nerves. Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck.
“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says.
“Huh?” you say, lifting your head.
Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin. He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand.
“What will work?” you ask.
“Distraction,” Minho says. You just look at him with confusion.
“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”
The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart. You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently. His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder.
“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you. Just do what I say, okay?”
Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.
“You trust us?” Changbin asks.
You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho.
It’s the truth. You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through. Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there. They have never let you down. You trust them with anything and everything.
Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different. He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead. Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side. He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips.
“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation. It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips.
“Waiter is thirty seconds away. You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says. “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”
You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again. This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open.
“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says. “Let your shoulders drop. Minho has you, it’s okay.”
You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were. You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax. Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply.
“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay? Put your hands on his shoulders. Higher, baby, go around his neck. Just like that. Let him lead you.”
Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies.
“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?” Changbin says. “Minho.”
That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do. Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his. It arches your back. Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair.
“God,” Changbin says. The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you. It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath. “You both look hot. Fuck.”
Changbin takes a steadying breath. You and Minho look at each other. You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning. It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth.
“Do it back,” Changbin says. “You want him to fuck you, baby. Make him believe it.”
You think the him is question is the waiter. Isn’t it? You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching. In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter. You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip.
“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight. His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed. He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours. He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head.
“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says. “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.”
You lift one leg, shaky and unsure. Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him. He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction. Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you.
Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real. When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you. Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you. It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering.
You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”
“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips.
“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says. “Kiss him like you mean it. Ask him to fuck you with it.”
You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat. You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want. Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.
“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him. “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same. You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night. Need it so bad. Please. Want you inside me. Want my mouth on you. Come in me. Come on me. Take me, please. I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am? Don’t you want to fuck me too?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.
Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.”
Then someone is clearing their throat. Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective.
“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says. “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.”
You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment. You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you.
You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over. He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry. He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder.
Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess. It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job. Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open.
Minho joins you a minute later. Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you. Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside. You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall. He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you. You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.
When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver. You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy.
Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle. “Good work, team,” he says.
You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being. It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.
You get inside the storeroom. You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop. You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work.
“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says.
You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye. He smiles at you. “I agree,” he says.
Your heart starts skipping beats again. You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze.
“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little. You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it.
At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work. You manage to disarm most of the storeroom. The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all. A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments.
You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam.
“Got it?” Changbin asks.
Minho starts unbuttoning his suit. “Always,” he says, smirking.
Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it. His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you. Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid.
Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one. He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult.
“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.
“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move. “Gotta agree.”
Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease. He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel. It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him.
The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot. Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume.
“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile.
You pack your fold out bags with your selections. One key to success is never being overly greedy. You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.
You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul. Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket. He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place. When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling. You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit. There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you. Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.
He holds you close as he puts you on your feet. You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire. You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing. He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.
You smile at him. A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair. The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder. You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close.
You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences. You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction.
“Hey!” one shouts. “What are you doing out here?”
You and Minho look over, then at each other. There is no time for conversation. You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders.
“Hey!” the security guard shouts again. You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk.
You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view. The door slides open and Changbin jumps out. You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.
Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards.
“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.
Minho laughs, nodding. “I agree,” he says.
Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her. Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul.
Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair. You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges. You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room. By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days. You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates.
It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax. Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow.
You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking.
You look at your reflection in the mirror. Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself. You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home. You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs. It is suggestive but arguably casual. You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right? Sure. Sure. Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.
The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said. Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help. Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade.
You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination. You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room. You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.
“Hello,” you say.
There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”
You look up. They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy. They look very casual and very surprised. Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn. Both of them are frozen.
You smile a very awkward smile.
“Hello,” you say again. “I am… I am… dressed. For bed. My bed. For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now. I am going to that bed, now, like this. You can… join me. If you want. If you don’t want, then, okay. Hello. And. Goodbye. Bye.”
You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed.
Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet. You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.
Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash. They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom. You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other.
Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside.
“Hello,” you say.
“Hi,” Changbin replies.
You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer. You cannot think of what to say or do next. You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous. Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again.
“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low.
You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.
“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest. “Thank you.”
You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all. You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them.
Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm. Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher. You continue to stare at them.
Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you. He holds out his hand.
“Breathe, baby,” he says. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
You laugh but nod, taking his hand. He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier. He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you.
“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me. You trust us?”
You look at him then at Minho. His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye. You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding.
“Always,” you say.
“Good,” Changbin says.
He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside. You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you. He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him. Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear.
“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours. “Listen to my voice, okay?”
You nod, light-headed but eager.
“Good,” Changbin says. “Come sit in my lap. Over here.”
Changbin is strong enough to haul you around. You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs. You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure. Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast.
Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you.
“Still want your mouth on him, baby?” Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.
You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly. He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck.
“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says. He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer. Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips. “Touch him baby,” Changbin says. “You see how hard he is for you?”
You can see. You can feel Changbin too, hard under you. Their sweatpants do little to disguise it.
You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats. Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch. It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down. This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers. Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth.
You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too. The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms. Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed. He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand. You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs. Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you. You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you.
Then they do. Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear. You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged.
Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you. Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look. Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering. He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you. Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.
The music is still playing in the next room. The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs.
“I love you guys,” you say. It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care. You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys. You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep.
You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side.
“It will have to be big,” Changbin says. “The biggest.”
“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely.
“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger. You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord.
“I agree,” Minho says. He kisses your temple. “I know how criminals work,” he adds. “You’re not getting stolen away from us.”
He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh. You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always.
Another masterpiece from wiyllt are we really surprised at this point (no.)
The parentheticals in this MAKE IT and I was cackling. I just love their style of writing, it’s so, like, conversational?? It really hooks me and I can never stop reading. I want it to go on forever. I feel like this is what it sounds like inside my brain 😅😅
I love this couple and how playful they are but also steamy!!!! 😮💨😮💨 the way they communicate is 🤣🤣
Brilliant!!! 👏👏👏👏
night sucker, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You and your hot-sexy-maybe-an-idiot-but-definitely-horny-and-always-perfect boyfriend Jeon Jungkook had mutually agreed not to fuck in the middle of the night. And... Well. You're still gonna fuck in the middle of the night. What?! It just happened! He slipped and his dick fell in your mouth! (It's the weekend, it's okay! :D)
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; you were asleep (not really) until his dick fell in your mouth (nice!); crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m and f-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, face sitting); squabbling tbh; non-idol!BTS - short black-haired!JK with his two lip rings; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts
crackhead best laid plans / counter point / well dressed / cursed hours couple no need to read the others, but they’re there if you want more
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You woke up to your boyfriend’s hard dick sliding into your open lips.
Fuck yeah!
(Do we sense a kink developing? Mayhap.)
Most people would be a little surprised, annoyed perhaps, but thankfully you were pretty used to the unhinged horny behavior of Jeon Jungkook (encouraging it, even, oop). You weren’t completely in the dark (well, you were – er, never mind) about it, because you had felt the very suspicious bowing of the bed by your right shoulder, plus you could smell him (mmmm, that vanilla almond body wash still lingered), and you had sucked his cock many, many, many times before. Oh. Right. Should have led with that.
Point was, your mouth was well acquainted with his dick.
(You’d have matching friendship rings but Jungkook would complain too much, keke.)
Delicately, you turned your head a bit and molded your tongue around the shaft, feeling the head twitch in your throat as his hips began to carefully thrust. Jungkook must have known that you were awake and not sleep-sucking his dick, but he wasn’t making any obvious noises.
(The aforementioned kink alive and well, folks!)
You heard him shudder and felt his fingertips skim over your cheek and clavicle. Probably to check the distance. His right leg must have been hovering over your body (you appreciated him not kneeing you in the boob, thank you, very kind), with his left knee by your right shoulder. You started curling your tongue back and forth as he moved, keeping your head still, and Jungkook gasped (a little too loud, pfft), being slightly rougher about it as your throat closed in around his twitching cock. He was mumbling something (useless prayers, your name, fuck me, the usual), and you still hadn’t moved your limbs yet, keeping the illusion alive. All activity in the depths of your mouth, squeezing, swirling your tongue around, letting him pause and edge himself with your lips rubbing the bottom of the swollen head, before shoving himself back in with a whining hiss, surprisingly not too deep, giving a whole new meaning to the term night sucker.
(Insert eyebrow wiggle here.)
His breathing was deepening, taking himself to the edge again, probably enjoying his full control of the pace as he filled your mouth over and over again, slow, deep, almost lazy, reaching his full girth and hardness.
This was when you let him know you were actually awake.
Because you grabbed his ass and jammed his cock all the way to the base, his balls smacking into your chin.
“Gah!”
You heard his palms smack into the headboard (or wall?) and, without giving him a moment to react, you extended the tip of your tongue past your lips to lick his balls, raising the back of your tongue to cup his cock and press It repeatedly against the back of your warm, tight throat.
“Woah, h-hey!”
You tipped your head back and took him deeper. Circled around his balls, leaving them wet, slippery, and tingling. His gruff, half-asleep moan drifted up to the ceiling, mixed with an exasperated whimper.
“I was… I was s-supposed to be catching you off guard… Now you’re just showing off!”
(He’s not wrong.)
You lifted your torso a bit, twisting, and rubbed your breasts against his thigh, sending sparks all throughout your torso. (Mmmm.) He was all tensed up and hard (heh) from maintaining his position above you. You knew he could feel your hard nipples because you heard the snack of his fist against the wall and his defeated groan, his head falling forward.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Jungkook was hot – er, ahem, ran hot. While being trapped between his (very sexy) legs was (very super) arousing, the summertime night heat was being exacerbated by his (very hot) body (you get the point), so you lowered back down to your pillow, kneading his incredible ass (won’t start again but, man, did you love his obsession with working out), nudging him to start moving again.
Thus, you comfortably enjoyed him face-fucking you, providing plenty of tongue action in your own right, his balls smacking against your chin with each thrust, with your spit sticky on your skin.
(Didn’t think that though, huh. Oh well.)
He kept a steady but intense pace. Since he led the movement, you could focus every muscle in your mouth – loose and soft around the length, lips tight, tongue roughly stimulating all his favorite spots, just under the head and along the underside, your saliva providing that frictionless slip, and then you felt his body shift.
His hand was moving.
A startled yelp stifled by his cock vibrated in your throat as his fingers slid down your stomach. His gasps hiked in pitch, and you curved your hips towards his touch, folding one of your legs to raise your lower body, and then his searching fingers grazed over your slick, dripping pussy, bringing the fire.
(And setting the night alight, iykyk.)
The human body could do a lot of creative things in the name of horny. Awkward body positions could be made comfortable by depraved adrenaline, and that was exactly what was happening right now, since there was no way in hell you were going to complain about Jungkook burying two fingers into you and sloppily rubbing your throbbing clit with his thumb. Not that you could say anything at all with him relentlessly thrusting his full-mast dick into your mouth (mhm, you just gushed down there, oh yeah, you felt that), rapidly building up his orgasm, deeply, slowly cutting off your air.
You could hold your breath a little longer.
(You could, in the name of lewd!)
And you were losing yourself in the pleasure, his fingers pumping in and out, fast and powerful, the wet slaps obscene, rocking your hips to his hand, tilting your head back as you sensed his body tensing up, his sounds ceasing into mute ecstasy and then.
“F-Fuck, yeeeeeees!”
He exploded (like… dynamite!), filling the back of your mouth with way too much cum (damn, his internal factories been working overtime), thick and heady and intense. Delicious. He stopped moving, soaking in the bliss, and you didn’t have a moment to swallow because you were too preoccupied hitting your own high, arching your spine, your eyes rolling back, your spasming pussy sucking in his fingers, sweat sticking to the top of your chest.
On instinct, you swallowed.
Too fast. Jungkook whined, pleading and desperate. Evidently, he seemed to figure out that you couldn’t control it since he didn’t react violently, only hitting the wall again (rest in disturbance, neighbors), screaming behind closed lips. You drew back a little, ghosting your tongue over the head, gently, and he moaned, drawn-out and wanton, clutching the headboard like a lifesaver as he was drowning in heavenly euphoria.
Wait.
His fingers were still stuffed into your pussy.
That meant he hit the wall with his forehead.
(Bro, you good?)
You couldn’t ask, but you patted his thigh to get his attention. After a moment of slow thrusting, you felt him try to move away (you sucked a little harder and Jungkook yelped at the oversensitivity,), and so you let go, only to be slapped in the face with his wet, half-hard cock.
“Ow.”
“Serves you right,” Jungkook shot back, sounding utterly drained. He still hadn’t moved his fingers from inside you. “How’d you wake up so fast?”
(‘Cause you’re not subtle, my lovely dummy.) “Mmmm, guess my mouth knows what to do when you put your dick in it.”
“Sus.”
He was stroking your wet pussy.
“What are you doing?”
“Touching your pussy, duh.”
You shifted your eyes and saw the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his hard cock. “Um.”
“What?”
“Nothin’, I was just thinkin’, ya know, I’m not very involved here.”
You were mocking his Busan accent and Jungkook growled, shoving another finger into you to express his irritation (wink wink). You didn’t react much except for grinning and spreading your thighs open more.
“Aren’t you sleepy? I’m thinking about your feelings.”
You were trying not to laugh at his poor attempt to be somewhat deadpan. Pretty difficult considering he was jacking himself off while fingering you. You clenched around his fingers and Jungkook hissed, whispering under his breath, again, and you did it again, fuck, feels so fucking good when you do that, ugh, and the fake spat was forgotten. Your hips rising, your hands fanning over your breasts, toying with your hard nipples, for you to melt and for him to watch, hotter, your chest tightening, biting your lip hard, the sting of pain deliberately delaying your rapidly building orgasm.
“Open your mouth, quick–”
You slid down and he shot thick, warm streams onto your tongue. Gasping and shuddering, those big eyes staring down at the amount (quite a lot, damn, proud of him) and you kept your cum-covered tongue extended, right up until you came onto his three fingers stretching you out, leaning your head back to let his orgasm hit the back of your throat as the first intense waves overcame you, strong flinches resonating up to your chest and head, swallowing and clamping your thighs shut around his muscular forearm.
A suspended, elated moment as you came down, gradually relaxing.
“Hah… fuck… uh…?”
Your tongue lazily snaked out and covered the tip of his softening cock, licking it off.
“Mmmm… ah, yeah…”
“How long you been planning that?” you asked without opening your eyes, squeezing his arm.
“I didn’t plan it.”
You could believe that. Jungkook didn’t plan shit. “Hmmmm…!”
“I swear!” He sounded like he was pouting. “I just happened to wake up really horny.”
This was not news. However, you continued to play dumb. “In the middle of the night?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“HMMMM!”
“What?! You’re naked!”
(Wait a second. Hold your oxen.) Your eyes snapped open. “Where are my panties?”
“Eh, I dunno.”
“Jungkook! You can’t just hide my panties whenever you want!”
(Yes, he can.)
“Uh, yeah, I can…!”
(Sigh.)
Your boyfriend’s teasing voice was sing-song and freaking annoying.
You shot up, and Jungkook was laughing, his short hair stuck up every which way (his bedhead was somethin’ fierce, so cute), backing up, and you saw your underwear on his nightstand, prompting a brief but rather titillating naked wrestling match. You lunged over him and Jungkook grabbed your waist, dragging you back with a prissy nuh uh, and you squirmed and twisted (probably turning him on, yup, you heard him moan a little just now), pawing for your panties. Somehow you hooked a leg over his shoulder, streaking a smear of your still-wet pussy over his built chest, and you attempted to sit on him. Repeatedly. Jungkook wasn’t making it very easy.
“Ow, damn, I worked out my chest today, come on!”
(If you insist.)
You stuck your tongue out to the biggest peepers glaring at you from below.
Then you got a great idea.
Brillant, really.
You sat on Jungkook’s face.
His big eyes shot open even wider and you had a moment of pre-nut clarity, since (um) your legs were a bit askew and you were half-crouching over him like a gremlin (not the hottest look), but in less than a second, Jungkook had his hands on your ass and lifted you up, planting your trembling pussy firmly onto his hungry mouth, shoving his tongue inside you. You gasped, clutching fistfuls of the sheets for some sense of stability. Meanwhile, your man was in a different dimension, groaning loudly under you and making your insides vibrate with his sound, jarring for a moment before you forgot whatever it was that had surprised you, oooh, damn, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what the heck you were worried about, too busy grinding onto his nose like a mate in heat.
(Ah… well, let’s not go there for today. Uh.)
Your panties were within reach, but you didn’t care, throwing your head back and moaning as you felt his tongue glide all over, rubbing against your clit, sucking on it noisily, more for effect than for pleasure, making you laugh, and then you melted into his hands, rocking your hips forward.
The palms of his hands pushed against your abdomen, and you realized his (big) nose was having trouble breathing (serves you right!), but after a moment of resisting on purpose, you leaned back, snickering at the gush of hot air washing over your crotch, his low moan trapped in his chest. He pinned your thighs in place, and you flexed them, feeling the power in his hands, shivering in delight at the sensations of his closed lips and swirling tongue, precise and careful and better than you remembered it. You pressed your hips into his mouth and he got the hint, putting more strength into it, there, ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, clenching your core to hold yourself up.
Hey, you worked out too! (Okay, yes, it’s a stretch but we gotta take the small wins where we can.) Your ass was going to get sweaty at this rate (see!) due to how warm Jungkook was getting (oh…), but you sacrificed for the greater good (cumming on his face), consumed by the harsh rhythm of his tongue, closing your eyes, blanketed in lust-drunk darkness, your muscles tensing, clenching your jaw.
“Mmmm, yes, Jungkook, yes…!”
Strangely you could only now really feel the press of his two lip rings in the dip of your thigh, but perhaps that was because you were forcefully gripping his head and pressing your throbbing pussy into his mouth, moaning, your torso flinching strongly, throwing yourself forward with a gasp, another wave of your orgasm shooting up from between your legs, spreading all over your shaking chest and through your arms. Aaaaaaah. The high wound down, dissipating all over. Your limbs were giving the consistency of fruit jelly.
Delicious.
Actually.
You could use some bingsoo right now, to be honest.
Fuck, it was hot.
You let out an exhilarated exhale, lifting your hips (someone was smacking your thigh, how odd), and Jungkook gulped lungfuls of air, groaning, running his tongue up and down between your legs as you reached over and snatched up your underwear.
Truth was…
You had indeed been jostled awake to Jungkook fumbling around with your panties earlier. Even lifted your hips to help him out. You had known damn well what was coming. Ten minutes of him laying down next to you, his hand over your pussy, calmly caressing the outer lips. Allegedly, he innocently liked to touch your bits because your pussy was pretty. He just wanted to hold it before he went to sleep. Uh huh. Yeah, okay. Even if that was true (it was, how sweet), inevitably, his lizard brain would overcome him (and that it did) and you would soon end up in a compromising position (in this case, his dick in your mouth, mhm, talk about a midsummer night’s dream). If you hadn’t wanted it, you would have stopped him, but (not gonna lie) his dick was a very tasty midnight snack.
It was the weekend, so might as well give into the voices.
(He was probably getting you back for all the times you shook him awake at three in the morning to ride his hard dick, as he should. We’re all unhinged in this house.)
You got off him and Jungkook complained immediately, only to be shut up by you throwing the hand towel on your nightstand at him.
“You’re sweaty!”
“Whose fault is that?!”
“Yours, you horndog!”
“I didn’t tell you to sit on my face!”
“Oh, like your big peepers weren’t BEGGING for it!”
“Well, SOR-REEEE that I think my future wife is hot, what a CRIME!”
He was following (chasing) you to the bathroom. You attempted to close the door in his face and he shoved his naked booty in there with you despite your protests of needing to pee.
“So what! I’m looking!”
“You’re such a creep,” you accused (fondly).
You sat down on the toilet and did your business with Jungkook pointedly staring at you and you pointedly staring back. He was wiping down his shoulders. In the bathroom light, you could see his black hair was slightly damp from sweat. His forehead was glistening, droplets beaded on his skin. His pecs were indeed looking especially delectable today. You stared harder. He twitched and did the same, his big brown eyes making him look extra psycho. He raised the towel just a bit, and you jumped for the toilet paper.
“EY!”
You smacked his tattooed forearm. “Wipe your face!”
“This is the best part!”
“You’re gross,” you snapped, somewhat annoyed but also too used to it (this was the definition of being too comfortable with each other), finishing up neatly and quickly, flushing with a glare before getting up to wash your hands. “What weirdo stands there when a girl is going to the bathroom?”
He looked extremely offended and pouty. “Um, your future husband?”
“My future husband is a creep,” you chirped annoyingly, rinsing off your hands and drying them off.
“As I should be,” Jungkook shot back. “How else will you know I love you?!”
“By being, I dunno, nice and wholesome?”
“I am wholesome! That’s why you put up with me!”
You flapped your hands in mock exasperation.
“What would you do without me?”
Jungkook clasped a hand over his chest, all hilarious dramatics, putting on a solemn expression.
“Be full of cum and empty of heart.”
He placed the back of his hand over his forehead, pretending to sob. You fell into him in roaring laughter, wrapping your arms around him. He immediately showered you with kisses amidst giggles, the towel around his shoulders, flicking his sweat on you (freaking annoying), and you couldn’t ask for a better man. Jungkook could propose to you with a goddamn tempura onion ring and you’d say yes. You were only complaining to complain. It was fun to bicker knowing full well neither of you meant it.
That was how you knew this love was true and perfect.
(See, look at us, a wholesome lovey-dovey couple!)
You both had to spend several minutes standing in the apartment naked, enjoying the air-conditioning, wondering out loud if your neighbors heard anything, asking each other if, hm, maybe a house should be in the works at some point? The living room couldn’t always be Jungkook’s personal gym (yes, it could, he liked to work out while watching television and you weren’t gonna stop him). Anyway, you two might need space, later, just in case.
“You know you’ll have to control yourself if we end up having kids.”
Jungkook made a face of mock disgust. “They’ll have to know how they were made eventually.”
You facepalmed.
(We’ll have to work on it. Future you problem. Future you was a sucker. For Jeon Jungkook. Gross.)
--
masterpost