CRYING

CRYING 🥹😭

Far Cry 🚀 Chapter 56

She didn’t dare open her eyes, just feeling him holding her was enough to ground herself. Her nose hid in the crook of his neck and his musky scent along with the firmness of his hold steadied her. She was calming down, her heart was content, and she’d stay like this forever, but he whispered into her ear.

“I got you, I’m right here.”

Her heart beat so intensely it smothered any ounce of fear and anxiety inside her. In a flash, she could remember everything that mattered. The first time he held her waist, preventing her from crumbling to the floor. The first time he caught her, helping her escape the clutches of captivity. The first time he held her through a panic attack, and every time after that. He didn't let her fall, he didn't let her face her nightmares, sorrows, or darkest fears alone — he was always there by her side. He was there right now, she could feel it in her chest. He was waiting for her, and she wanted to do this.

This story got me feeling like a maniac for laughing so hard 🤣

I just giggled from start to finish and even when I thought, "come on, more brattiness!" It didn't disappoint!

The ending caught me so by surprise but even then I chuckled 😂 This is really great!

Up All Night

Pairing: JK x reader

Genre: smut/pwp, neighbours/enemies-to-well, not really lovers, not even really fuckers lmao

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: You've moved into a nice, new apartment but there's just one problem: your noisy neighbour with the voice of an angel who insists on doing karaoke in the small hours. You decide it's about time to tell him off and get a whole lot more than you bargained for.

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex (well... sort of... you'll see!), dom!JK, slight bratty reader, bit of spanking, bit of biting, overstimulation, alcohol consumption

A/N: JK said middle of the night karaoke (again!) so here we are (again!) lmao. Originally written for M @here2bbtstrash. Not edited for reposting.

* * *

The previous tenant of your new apartment had assured you that there were no issues with the apartment, the landlord, the building, the management company, or the neighbours. It was peaceful, quiet, they had said. They were clearly lying.

You pull the pillow off your head and huff, frowning into the darkness of your bedroom. You check the clock: 2am. 2am. Who does karaoke at 2am on a Wednesday?! You put the pillow back over your face and scream into it; you can’t hear it yourself over the noise of your next-door neighbour’s wailing and warbling. This has been going on long enough.

He has no set pattern, no set routine, it seems, so it’s not even as if you can plan your life around it. At weekends, you don’t mind; people can do what they like at the weekend; you’re not immune to fun! And, truth be told, he has a nice voice; at least he can actually sing well. But cranking up the karaoke machine at midnight on a weeknight is pushing it. And you’re at your limit. You’re supposed to be sleeping but your heart is hammering as anger floods your system, blood roaring in your ears, your patience so worn, it’s transparent.

It’s almost project deadline time which means a) there is more work to do than there has ever been because, obviously, everyone is running behind and no one is ready and b) very important meetings with the clients to explain why you’re behind and how, actually, it’s fine and ok and you are all good at your jobs even though nothing is ready. It would be stressful and exhausting on 8-hours a night, but you were scraping through with three or four thanks to your pop-star wannabe neighbour.

Silence. Has he stopped? Is it over?

A new song starts. The single thread with which you had been hanging on snaps and you sit bolt upright in bed. Something has to be done.

You run a hand through your hair, put on a top and some trousers, and take a deep breath before stomping out of your apartment to stand at the door of the apartment to the right. You can still hear him out here.

You thump on the door, four heavy-handed, side-fisted thumps. No answer. You try again, harder and more this time. No answer. You consider going back to your apartment for a pair of boots to try to kick the door (or kick the door in, either way) when it finally swings back.

“Oh,” is what comes out. Your brain has fallen out of your ears.

You hadn’t given much thought to what your neighbour might look like; it certainly hadn’t occurred to you that he might look like that: all tall and dark and handsome, with those huge, brown eyes, and... and... see-through pyjamas. You bite your lip as he looks at you, confused but friendly; you still dimly remember why you had been knocking at his door in the middle of the night but, somehow, you can’t get your mouth to move.

“Are you ok?” he asks, brows creasing in concern. His pink tongue pokes briefly out of his lips as he sucks his lip ring into his mouth and you are transfixed. Your poor brain is scrambling to try to get you to say anything when all your body’s attention is somewhere far south of that. You gulp.

“You are loud,” you say and groan internally at yourself. Get a grip!!! He’s just a man! He’s a man who’s keeping you up! He’s a man you came here to tell off!

Yeah, but he’s a man that looks like that.

Your eyes move from his mouth to his hands, still holding his karaoke mic. Little tattoos on his hand, bigger tattoos moving up his arm, his muscled, well-defined arm. Your heart skips a beat when you imagine that hand around your throat and that beat is taken up with a throb in your core.

“Uh, oh, the karaoke? Is it too loud?”

“Yes,” you answer weakly, your voice disappearing as he scrunches up his nose and ruffles the hair at the back of his head, bashful. You wish you had thought to put on underwear beneath your pyjamas; your nipples are hard, all too visible underneath the pale vest and you can feel your arousal between your legs. You cross one foot in front of the other and squeeze your thighs together.

You’re ashamed of yourself, honestly. You came to tell him to knock it off and put a sock in it and shut the fuck up because some people (clearly not him) have real jobs that require them to get up early in the mornings and use their brains which, in turn, require a good night’s sleep and yet, here you are, a mindless, gawping hole with cum for brains and one, singular thought resounding in your head.

“Oh, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you’d be able to hear it. I guess it is kind of late...”

“Yeah, it’s late,” you say, able only to echo what’s already been said, not daring to say more lest that thought escape out of your mouth while your brain is unavailable.

“I’m sorry, yeah, I’ll turn it down; I’ll try to be quieter next time!” His smile is glorious; he glows and you can only bask in it.

When you don’t leave, he falters.

“Um, do-.. C-… I-… Is there something else?”

Yes, there is, your brain says to you. Yes, I want to put my mouth all over your body. Yes, I want to make you sing my name. Yes, I want to fuck you and make you cum so hard, you actually shut the fuck up. Your eyes rove his body hungrily, unsupervised by your mushy brain, and when you finally meet his gaze, the look on his face is different.

The cute, baby-faced, little cherub is gone and his eyes look darker now. He raises an eyebrow at you and you swallow a whimper.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.

You don’t respond but he moves backwards and you follow, letting him shut the door behind you. You stand awkwardly as he goes to the kitchen and gets out two shot glasses and a bottle of soju. He opens it, pours the shots and slides one along the counter in your direction.

You’re surprised, a little unsure, but you take it and down it and he refills the glass.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way.” He raises his glass at you and takes another shot.

You tell him your name and drain your glass, moving further into the room. It’s dim, main lights off, a standing lamp in the corner, one on a corner table, and a colourful, swirling lamp casting rainbows across the walls, across Jungkook’s face, across his body... There’s a mattress on the living room floor and it’s incongruent enough that it slightly shakes you from your stupor.

“Does this apartment not have a bedroom?” you ask.

Jungkook giggles, scrunching up his nose again and he sighs.

“It does. I just... also have a mattress in here...”

You don’t ask why. You don’t think you need to.

“It’s not like that,” he says, as if reading your mind. “I just... like to lie down and the sofa isn’t comfortable really, especially if I fall asleep on it. It just- I don’t know, it made sense to me.”

“You’re kind of weird, right?”

He laughs, surprised, and then shrugs.

“I don’t know. I guess. Maybe? Is that bad?”

You shake your head and move closer, putting your empty glass down next to his. He refills them both and this time, you clink them together and he holds your gaze as you sink them.

The soju has rounded your edges and you have completely forgotten your anger, forgotten your anxiety about work, forgotten about everything else outside of these four walls. It’s just you and Jungkook – that guy that you have been ranting and raving about since you moved into this apartment a few weeks ago, that guy you hated, that guy you were going to give what for... that guy with his hand on your arm, that guy moving closer to you, so close you have to tip your head back to see his face.

“Did you really come to complain about the noise?” he asks, his voice quiet and low. His hand moves to your hip, gently fingering the waistband of your trousers.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your mouth dry, adrenaline and alcohol buzzing through your system.

“Is that all?”

His face is so close to yours now; he nudges your nose with his and you can just barely feel his lips hovering over yours. You intend to close your eyes for just a second, just a second to catch your breath, but he whips it from you, closing the minute distance between you, his lips on yours, so soft, so sweet.

Your body responds before your mind has registered what’s happened. One hand rakes through his hair, the other gripping his arm; he pulls your whole body closer, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. He has your bottom lip in his teeth, letting go to slip his tongue into your mouth. He moans and you’re suddenly brought to your senses. You jump back and shake your head.

“No, wait, no! I did actually come here to complain about the noise! That is all! That is all! I didn’t even know who you were or what you looked like when I knocked on the door.”

Jungkook chuckles darkly.

“Yeah that much was pretty clear.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw your face when I opened the door. Not much good at poker, are you?”

He grins and you want to hate him again but he’s so cute even when he’s being smug and condescending.

“Is this how you get away with it?” you ask. “You just look like that and people let you do whatever you want, is that how it works?”

He looks taken aback, almost offended.

“What do you mean? Get away with what?”

“With this!” You fling an arm out towards the karaoke machine and gesture with the other to the microphone sitting on the kitchen counter. “It’s 2am, Jungkook! On a Wednesday! And you’re screaming into a microphone! Who does that?!”

You’re relieved that your anger is back. He is heady and intoxicating and the anger is refreshing – not to mention that getting dicked down by him will do absolutely nothing to solve the actual problem at hand.

“I didn’t know you could hear it!” He’s raising his voice now, too. “No one has ever complained before!”

“Yeah! Because you look like that!”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means my brain dribbled out of my ears the second I saw you and I forgot that I fucking hate you-!”

“You can’t hate me! You don’t know me!”

“I know you enough! I know your favourite songs! And I know that I can’t fucking sleep because of you! So, I got out of bed to come over here and tell you to just fucking shut the fuck up, and then you opened the door and you’re so ridiculously good-looking that I forgot! I fucking forgot that I’m livid with you!”

“Well, I can’t help what I look like. It’s not my fault you’re attracted to me.”

“If you were a normal person who didn’t go karaoke in the middle of the night then I may never have met you, so it might not be your fault that you look like that but it’s definitely your fault that I had to find out about it.”

“So, you’d rather have never met me?” He moves closer to you again, looking down at you, licking his lips, catching the bottom one in his teeth. “Really?”

You can’t say yes. You can’t say no. You want him to just take you, to shatter the tension between you and fuck you into next week. You can’t tell him that... Can you?

“I didn’t say that, exactly,” you respond, your voice thick, your heart trapped in your throat.

“Then what are you saying?” His body is close against yours now, his hands on your skin beneath your top, sending sparks flying, a shiver down your spine as he presses his lips to your jaw.

“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook,” you growl. “You can’t just fuck your way out of this.”

“No? Can I at least try?”

He pushes his hips against you and he’s hard. He kisses your neck, licking and sucking, drawing tiny gasping breaths from your reluctant mouth. As one hand moves around and he gently pinches your nipple, you moan.

“Fine, fine,” you answer. “But this had better be really good.”

He pulls back and grins, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh I’m not worried about that.”

He slips his hands down and lifts you suddenly, carrying you with apparent ease to the mattress on the floor. Then they’re immediately at the waistband of your trousers, pulling them down your legs, throwing them across the room.

“You’re going to fuck me on the floor? Don’t I deserve better than that?” you ask, resting on your hands.

He looks up at you, his hands on your ankles. He tugs quickly and you fall back with a light squeal. You raise your head and he’s crawling over you, his eyes black.

“I’ll fuck you on the actual floor if you’re not careful,” he warns, voice low and steady, sending a spark straight to your core.

“Is that right?”

You know that he could rip you in half without breaking a sweat but you don’t want to make it easy for him. He chuckles and rolls his eyes, shaking his head so that his hair falls forward and tickles your face.

“Are you always such a brat?”

He takes your jaw in his hand, resting his full weight on the other, and grips it tightly. He considers you for a moment: your pupils wide, mouth open, breathing heavy. Then he loosens his grips, strokes a thumb over your cheek.

“Why don’t you try being a good girl?”

“Fuck you.”

His hand snakes to your neck, wraps around your throat.

“Is this ok?” he asks quietly and you nod fervently.

“Then why don’t you try saying that again.” The difference in his voice sends more arousal pooling at the crux of your legs. He’s commanding, authoritative, in charge. You’re already aching, desperate for him.

“F-”

As you go to speak, his hand squeezes hard on your throat, cutting you off. His eyes bore into yours and he lets go.

“Sorry, what was that?”

As you open your mouth to reply, he squeezes again. You kick your legs and squirm beneath him even after he lets go. He lowers his face to yours and kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

His hand squeezes once more then lets go your throat and travels down your torso. He kneels back and hooks the hem of your vest under his thumbs.

“If you’re a good girl,” he tells you, lifting your top over your head and discarding it, “Then I’ll be good to you...” He presses kisses against your throat and chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue and you can’t stop your hips bucking below him. Releasing you with a pop, he continues. “But if you insist on being a brat...” He kneels up and gives a swift, sharp slap to your pussy. You gasp and his face switches back, cute and open and concerned; he mouths the question ‘are you ok? Is this ok?’ and you nod, nod, nod.

“Yes, yes, please.” Like a doll with a ring-pull in her back, it’s all you can say.

“So tell me,” and it’s authoritative Jungkook back again, “Are you going to be good or are you going to be a brat?”

He sits and waits for your answer, slowing unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes on you. You don’t know the answer. You just know you want him, desperately; the need in your centre is so strong, it’s almost painful; your walls are fluttering, clenching around nothing; arousal almost pouring out of you onto this stupid mattress on the floor. You’re shameless with desire. You’ll do anything, anything to have him inside you.

“I asked you a question. Are you going to be a good girl or are you going to be a brat? Don’t make me ask a third time.” His voice is sharp and he stands to take off his trousers and boxers.

“Fuck,” you gasp when he’s finally naked, his prick standing proud before him. Your mouth waters and your pussy floods at the sight. “Good, good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” The words tumble from your mouth in a rush and you sit up, about to get to your knees when he pushes you back down. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you whisper. “Just please-”

“Please what, princess?” He’s sweet now, indulgent, his lips back on your neck as his fingers trail down your stomach.

“Please touch me.”

“Touch you? Oh, but I am touching you. Look-” He gestures with his free hand to where his other dances his fingers across your stomach. Kneeling, he pulls your legs apart, settling them over his legs, stroking your thighs.

“No,” you whine, rolling your hips as if there is anything there to roll them against. You can feel a bead of sweat roll down your spine as Jungkook hitches you higher, pulling you closer so that you can feel his cock rest against your clit. You whine again but he’s holding you so tight that you can’t move.

“No? No? So you don’t want this?” He presses his thumb into your swollen, throbbing clit and you keen, grasping the blankets in your fists.

“Please, yes, please, that.”

“You like that?” He moves his thumb in slow circles and you think you might explode with need. You’re so wet and so sensitive and your head is swimming as your body tingles all over, as if the surface of your skin is sparkling water, bubbles rising and popping, goosebumps sprinkled from top to bottom.

“Yes, yes- ahh, yes, fuc- yes.. But-”

“But?”

“More. Need more.”

Jungkook sighed and removed his hand.

“No,” you cried, trembling with desire. “Please.”

“That’s right, princess, you ask nicely now.”

“Please, please touch me,” you beg, unravelling with unmet desire. “Please, Jungkook-, hngh-”

His thumb is back and insistent now and you moan as he finally slips two fingers into your wet, aching cunt.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

“Mm, yeah, I like it when you say my name like that.”

“Jungkook, mm- fuck... Faster.. Please.”

“As you wish.”

Pleasure coils tight inside you as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall. Your walls begin to clench against his fingers and your muscles tighten as he brings you to the edge.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please...” You repeat over and over, your mind barely present, only conscious of your climax, closer and closer, so, so close until Jungkook stops. “What? What?” You look at him, wild-eyed and he grins like snake. “Why?” You sound petulant, you can hear it yourself, but you were so close and you need it so badly.

“You’re just so wet, princess. I don’t think I can go another second without tasting you.”

You expect him to curl forward, shuffle towards the edge of the bed, and bring his mouth to you, but he wraps his arms and around your waist and hoists you upward, bringing your burning core to him. You’re virtually upside-down, his cock pressed against your back. Keeping one arm tight around you, Jungkook slips his other hand under your opposite shoulder making sure you don’t slip, and then he kisses your thighs and your puffy outer lips and he licks the crease of your hip and you’re whining, squirming, his hot breath against you torturous, tantalising.

The blood is rushing to your head and your vision swims as he finally puts his lips where it matters. He licks through your folds and you moan, free and wanton, your breath hitching, voice breaking when he flicks your clit, then seals his lips around it.

“Fuck! Fuck! Ah-.. Jesus- fuck.”

You can barely move as he’s holding you so tightly, so securely as he sucks hard at your tight pearl, as he licks through your folds, as he pushes his tongue inside you, drinking you greedily, hungrily, insatiably. He moans and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re dizzy but you don’t know if it’s being upside down or if it’s being licked and sucked and slurped at as if Jungkook’s life depends on it.

He doesn’t move his mouth from you, moaning and groaning, sending vibrations through your core until you’re light-headed. You’re back on the edge as he sucks at your clit, the soft pad of his tongue rubbing over you; your walls are clenching, your hands are shaking, your thighs trembling as pressure builds. You glance up at him: eyes closed in concentration, brows together frowning into you, tiny hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat.

“Fuck, Jungk-”

Your orgasm takes the rest of his name from your mouth, replacing it with a long, loud whine. Even he can’t stop you squirming as pleasure pours over you. Colours and patterns dance in front of your eyes as your whole body starts to shake, toes curling, legs squeezing Jungkook’s head. But he doesn’t stop, mouth still moving against you, drinking you in like you’re an oasis and he’s been wandering the desert for forty nights.

“Jungkook!” you gasp, fingernails finding his thigh, grasping, digging. “Jungkook!”

He moans in response but doesn’t detach and you think you might die if he keeps going, don’t know if you can take anymore. You feel floppy; you feel drunk; you feel giddy and hysterical. He releases your clit and you gasp, relieved, but he hasn’t finished. He licks through your folds, wanton and in search of more.

“Jungkook, I can’t,” you whine, your voice almost breaking, tears almost pricking in your eyes.

“Be a good girl.” His voice is deep, dark, liquid as he speaks, his lips still touching your skin. It makes you shiver. It makes your empty pussy throb. “Just be a good girl, ok?”

He hoists you up another inch and your head falls between his legs, fully and completely upside-down now. You arch your back against him and his nose bumps your clit, shooting a jolt right through you. His mouth is moving slower now and you’re grateful for the reprieve but then he’s back on your screaming bundle of nerves and, no, that’s you screaming. You screaming his name, screaming yes and screaming nothing comprehensible. You feel feral, no longer human but animal, no longer aware of anything but his mouth and your cunt. Your nails dig into the flesh of his stomach but he merely growls against you, holding you tighter. You feel like you’re trapped in a riptide, rolling and swirling and tumbling, barely breathing, choking on his name in your mouth.

He pulls another orgasm from you, a shuddering, thunderous climax the likes of which you have never before experienced. Everything pulls tight like an overstretched elastic band and then it’s snapped and you’re free-falling, a wailing cry sounding far off in your ears, as if you’re out of your body. Jungkook gently shuffles backwards, lowering you to the mattress, where you lie, panting, your head spinning, every part of you feeling as if you were on another planet. Your body feels heavy and weightless at the same time, limbs like lead somehow floating above you.

He kisses your feet and your ankles and your calves. He kisses your knees and your thighs and your stomach. He kisses the tips of your fingers and the palms of your hands and the crooks of your elbows. He kisses your shoulder and your neck and your ear and your cheek. He wipes the hair from your brow and gently turns your face towards him. His face is swimming in front of you as the blood still slowly levels out in your body.

“Are you ok?” he whispers, those huge, dark eyes bright and shining. The swirling colours of the kaleidoscopic lamp pass over his face and you think you might just be dreaming. He wipes at his lips and his chin, but he’s still sticky and shiny with your arousal all over him. “You ok?” he repeats.

A sound that isn’t a word leaves your lips and you frown and try again.

“Tem-… bu-… uh... Fu-…"

He giggles and kisses your cheek again, pressing his nose against you.

“You want some water?”

You can only nod as you wait for your body to come back into itself, as you wait for your brain to pick itself back up off the floor. When he brings the glass over to you, he has to help you sit up; you lean heavily against him as you gulp down the full glass in one. You gasp as you finish, water trickling down your chin and onto your chest. You lean your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I... I...” You start but you don’t know what to say.

“Mm? You what?” Jungkook’s hand starts to stray, gently rubbing your side; his mouth connects to your neck again and your head falls to the side. “You were such a good girl,” he purrs and you are thrilled by the praise.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so, so good for me, princess. Think you’re ready for me now?”

“Oh...”

It’s not that you don’t want it. It’s that you can barely sit upright without leaning against him, your legs all jelly and your spine a column of paper.

“It’s ok, you can say no,” he reminds you, stroking your leg.

“No, no, -”

“That’s ok.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, laying you against the sofa while your brain strives to catch up.

“No, no, no I mean, no, I don’t mean no I-. No, YES. Yes, I mean yes.” You twist so you’re facing him and press your palms his chest – soft, firm, warm – and push yourself up. “Yes, I mean yes. Please, please fuck me.”

He grins and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re so cute when you beg.”

He kisses you, still so soft, still so sweet. Still so strong: he scoops you up in his arms and lifts you so you’re straddling him, without breaking the kiss. He sucks on your tongue and you moan, your body awakening once more. You slip your hand down and find his cock, hot and hard between your bodies, the tip slick with precum. You twitch at the thought of him inside you as your fingers don’t quite wrap all the way around him. Jungkook moans as you spread the precum around his head, thumb gently bothering the soft underside.

“Fuck, one sec.”

He sets you back down on the mattress and stumbles hastily to another room, returning with a condom in his hand. He rips it open as he kneels back down in front of you and then slips it over his tumescent length.

“You still want this?” he asks, as if the greed and desire weren’t plain in your face.

“God, yes. Please.”

“You’re so needy!” He laughs and presses a firm kiss to your lips. “That’s just how I like you, princess.”

From your kneeling position, he hooks his arms under your thighs, spreading them wide, lifting and pressing you against the edge of the sofa.

“This ok? Comfortable?”

You honestly can’t even tell. All you can feel is the deep, heavy drag of desire in your core, the persistent, empty ache of Jungkook not inside you. You nod, dumbly, and swallow as he runs the head of his cock through your soaked wet folds before pressing into you.

Oh, he’s big. He’s slow and careful as he stretches you out and you whimper, not because it hurts but because it feels so, impossibly good.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commands.

“So big,” you pant. “So good.”

“Tell me if you ne-”

“No, don’t stop.” Your hands grip his shoulders and you look him in the eye. “Do not stop. Please.”

He doesn’t stop until there’s no more left to give and he holds you there, stuffed full. You wait a moment and then another but he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips against him but you’re held fast between the sofa and Jungkook and he is like a statue, unmoving.

“Jungkook?”

You try to catch his eye but he’s looking down at your body with his lip between his teeth.

“Jungkook.”

“What, princess? What do you need?”

He looks at you with a grin and you realise he’s just teasing you, waiting for you to beg some more. You huff and pout and look away, refusing to meet his eye again. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Uh oh,” he says, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. “Uh oh, is my good girl sulking? Have I spoilt you, princess? Given you too much of what you want already?” He grips your hair tightly and pulls your head back. “Have I created a brat out of you?”

“No,” you reply, still petulant and pouting.

“No? Then where’s my smile? Where’s my ‘please’?”

You look at him, bottom lip still jutting, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, that’s a real shame...” He starts to pull out of you, as slowly as he went in and you bite the inside of your lip to keep quiet. “I was really looking forward to fucking you, but we don’t reward bratty behaviour in this house...” As his tip reached your entrance, you grabbed his arms, no longer pouting, your eyes pleading. “Hm?” he asked. “What’s that?”

You growled and rolled your eyes and dropped your head back, taking a deep breath before snapping it back.

“Please,” you spit but Jungkook shakes his head and falls from you.

“No, no, that’s not how we ask nicely, is it?”

He drops you and you flop onto the mattress but before you can react, he’s lifting you up again, turning you around, bending you over the sofa. He presses himself against you and the two of you moan in unison. Then he smacks you hard on your right glute and you gasp.

“You ok?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what you get for being a brat.” He smacks you hard again in the same spot and you whimper. He licks over the sting and cracks you on the other side.

“Jesus!” you exclaim.

“Too much?”

“No, no, keep going.”

Another smack.

“Keep going what?”

“Keep going, Jungkook.”

And another.

“Keep going what?”

Seconds pass in tense, exhilarating silence. Your heart skips in your chest at the thrill of it, of denying him what he wants, of what he might do in return. As the seconds tick by, another and another and another, Jungkook’s hand sneaks around in front and he grabs your clit sharply and twists.

“Oh Jesus, fuck!” you cry, your head dropping onto the sofa.

Jungkook’s lips are back at your ear.

“Is it too much?” His voice is so gentle and the contrast makes you laugh.

“No, no, it’s not.”

“Ok, you say when, though ok?”

You nod and he kisses the shell of your ear.

“Please, keep going,” you say and he laughs.

“See? So, you do know how to ask nicely, eh?” He leaves a trail of kisses down your spine and rolls his hips, his dick sliding through your wet folds so that you moan. “Come on, then, princess, enough being bratty. Ask nicely for what you want.”

But you don’t want to ask nicely. Not anymore. You push your hips back against him and his hands come down, squeezing them tightly, fingers pressing hard into the skin, the muscle.

“Just fuck me, Jungkook,” you growl.

“Eh?”

You turn your head to look at him, dark, determined.

“I said, just fuck me.”

He smirked and sucked his teeth with a shake of his head.

“What a rotten princess you are, so spoilt, so quickly.”

He bends down and takes a hard bite of your bum cheek. He doesn’t let go, his teeth sinking deeper into your soft flesh as you whimper. You whimper even as fresh arousal pools inside you and your walls flutter. They flutter around nothing as you try to push back or wiggle your hips or get him to move. You hear him growl, your skin still between his teeth, and then he drops you and licks broadly over the clear, dark indentations.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yes?”

You don’t want to beg but you are desperate for him back inside you. He can bite you and smack you and god knows what else but you need him to fuck you. You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles sweetly at you, expectantly. He plays with your folds and toys with his dick at your entrance, just waiting. You wish you could hold back the moan in your throat, wish you could stop your core clenching, wish you could just get him to fuck you.

“Come on, princess,” he says, his voice quiet, encouraging, even kind. “You can tell me...”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, I know that,” he laughs, running a hand up to your hair, tangling it there and then tugging backwards, lifting you off the sofa by it so your head rests against his collarbone. “And I,” he growls, letting your hair go and running a soft hand across your breasts, “just want you to ask nicely,” his voice sweet and soft again. These switches are giving you whiplash and you don’t know which Jungkook you want more. Any will do, you think, but then your cunt throbs at the thought of your flesh in his teeth and your resolve hardens.

“I won’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You won’t?” He moves backwards and your bodies are no longer touching. He continues to move and the space between you grows, causing you to shiver without the heat of him there. He sighs dramatically. “This is very disappointing. Turn around.”

You do as you’re told without a second thought and when you’re facing him, he’s kneeling and grinning at you.

“What am I going to do with you?” he muses, an evil twinkle in his eye that you are sure is not just the swirling colours of the lamp. He reaches out towards a side table and your eyes widen when you see what’s in his hand. He turns his back to you briefly, pressing buttons on a small remote. You can’t believe your ears when music fills the room and Jungkook brings the mic to his mouth.

“Any requests, princess?”

Woah!!!

So let me get this straight— OC is specialized in clairvoyance but it's Uncle Cian who has to constantly drop hints and send her visions about her future? Our girl is lacking so bad like wow 🙈👀

I like that OC has lots of room to grow and that the story feels like a piece of a bigger picture. Her emotional growth regarding Uncle Cian is so real, I'm exactly like that and it took me a while to move on from things like that too.

😱 Agatha might be alive!!! I almost cried, holy shit!

Jin really has a lot of control for not acting during her fever… which we love 💜 the whole thing was unexpected but it blurs the consent lines and 😬 but that was good. What came after though…

Ahhh no… To compare lovers/sizes during the act? What a turnoff, holy fuck 😅 but what comes next? I'm all for spankings and sexy time but OC apologizing for having a life before Jin really didn't sit well with me. What if it had been meaningful? Why should she be punished/fear his anger for living her life when she had no way of knowing she was a mate to a shifter? No ✋ later he gets possessive over her present + future, good! But past? Calm down! 😩

Smut so hot I was dehydrating 🥵👀 this should come with a warning ⚠️🔥

And finally the tying to the main story — perfect, awesome! Can't wait to read the next part of the series!

Of Bears And Bonds | 03 (final)

➬ Of Bears and Bonds

➬ Character | Seokjin x reader

⇢ Genre | Were-bear/Bear Shifter!Seokjin, Witch! Reader, Fated Mates!au, Smut, Angst

⇢ Summary | Winter always comes with surprises. Sometimes it brings you the joy in the form of solitude, other times it comes with a snowstorm that buries your old cabin in a thick snow mountain that has you trapped until Springtime. You had believed that you were prepared for anything come winter. The only thing you have not been prepared to deal with is to find a bear being sent to your doorsteps. Asleep.

⇢ Ratings & Warnings | +18/mature; character death (not main), nudity, voyeurism, some massive sexual tension happening, tattooed Jin, Alpha bear Jin, shifter heat, size kink, dom!Jin, mild dirty talk, spanking, jealousy sex, rough sex, penetration sex without protection, intense foreplay, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), marking/biting, knotting, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm.

⇢ Word count | 37,5k words (I’m so sorry!)

➥ Part of the Shifters Series | World Map & Fic Glossary | ⇠ Previous Chapter 

➥ Cross post | Inkitt | Wattpad

⇢ Author’s Note | You asked for this. Forgive me for the lengthy chapter, but I didn’t want to make you guys wait for much longer and I did warn you about this one. As always, I will need to remind you that this story takes place around the similar timeline from the scenes in Blood Moon Rising, but can also serve as a prequel. The story can be read as a standalone, yet it would probably be more pleasurable to read this alongside the main series Blood Moon Rising and/or by reading The Half-Lycan beforehand. | For @jamaisjoons, @yeoldontknow​​, and @theodea​ who have been hyping me up with this one and for helping me by tossing ideas back and forth whenever I get stuck.

PART THREE: Final & Epilogue

You have heard numerous stories about them in the past while you were merely a young, growing witch in training.

The Peacekeepers.

A small, secret group of sorcerers and Wiccans that had been formed to maintain the peace between realms and communities within them. You had learned the basic ground on how they were formed, the reason why they had been needed, and how they continue to exist. Based on your knowledge about them so far, you know just what it means for them to be here.

Right here, standing between your godfather and your mate, you could feel the wave of energy flowing from around you. Standing on your side are strong sorcerers and Wiccans, some of them are humans, other supernatural beings that take on their human-like forms, all with magical powers. Every single one of them are ready to enter the battleground with their eyes locked on their destination ahead. You know just what they are capable of.

And yet, for some reason, the weight of opening the way for the battle to start falls on you.

Keep reading

we're SO back!!

About Far Cry...

Hey guys! For those of you following Far Cry, unfortunately, there won't be an update this week :(

I moved and unpacked a bit and bham! Of course, now I'm sick :(

But it means I had a day off today and wrote a lot. I'm 8.5k words in and nowhere done so ^^' The next chapter will go up next Tuesday (hopefully).

Here's the chapter list until the end of part II so you know what's coming:

Chapter 56 // Facing ghosts

Chapter 57 // Muddy waters

Chapter 58 // The reverse of the coin

Chapter 59 // Crossfire

Chapter 60 // Chasm

Chapter 61 // Ascending

Chapter 62 // Can I be close to you?

Then the idea is to write Part III over the summer and finish the story by the end of the year! Let's hope I can do it 😁 See you soon! 💜