'that thing'

when you have a deep nd meaningful conversation with yourself n you end up sobbing in bed at midnight

→ through the flames (and into the lava)

pairing → Jungkook x Reader

genre smut, fluff, slight humor, crack || dragon!jk, fantasy!au i guess

☆ warnings  public indecency, dry humping, fingering, non-penetrative sex, cumplay, i’m sorry

☆ word count  → 7.8k

Your boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims.

or; the perks (and unexpected complications) of dating a fucking dragon

a/n; this is what happens when drunk ave gets an idea and rolls with it. ty to my friends for providing dragon porn and for entertaining my weird ideas !! and to mj who cheered me through the last 4k 



You boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims

(something about being the 62nd descendant of Gaivripheonth, Champion of the Eastern Skies and— yeah).

It’s not the best kept secret, either.

Jungkook is all but five when he stands at the summit of the playground slide and roars out,I AM A DRAGOOOOON!before Jimin pushes him down impatiently, tired of waiting for his turn. While most kids run away from Jungkook, the self-proclaimed neighborhood dragon, or accuse him of fabricating lies, you are the only one who stands by his side.

But although Jungkook is your friend, that doesn’t mean you’re convinced he’s a dragon. You’re still waiting for proof on that one. (”What do you mean you can’t fly? What kind of useless dragon can’t fly?”)

One would think by now he would have grown out of his childhood phase, but his identity crisis goes on for longer than anyone expects it to. Years later and he’s still adamant about being a dragon’s offspring. He’s less vocal about it than before, but the mania for dragons has yet to die down. It’s cute, though. You don’t mind listening to him talk about his reptilian lineage from time to time. Some people like to talk about their favorite football player for hours on end. Jungkook? He would rather talk about his granddaddy dragon. It honestly doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

You watch Jungkook swing himself back and forth, propelling himself high up into the air with powerful kicks. As the swing frame creaks and wobbles ominously, you can’t help but worry for his safety. One wrong move and the chains could snap, Jungkook hurtling into the air, arms outstretched in a poor imitation of dragon wings. You don’t have the heart to chide him for his recklessness, suddenly recalling all the times he had scraped his knees and hands while trying to reach the skies.

Up until now, Jungkook has always been heedless of the danger of his actions. It’s something you both love and hate about him—his impulsiveness, his passion, the way his emotions are never suppressed or filtered. These traits land him into trouble more often than not, sometimes even dragging you along for the ride, but at least you can say life with Jungkook is never boring. So it’s not that you don’t care about him, but you’ve long since learnt Jungkook is made of tougher stuff than his baby face lets on.

”Did you see that? I almost touched it!”  Jungkook babbles, gesturing wildly to illustrate his point, showing off the grass stains and streaks of dirt he wears like battle scars. “I got real close I could almost taste it on my tongue.”

He sticks out his tongue at you but you dodge quickly, cringing when you see him wag the dark purple-stained muscle. You can smell the artificial sweetness from where you’re standing; you know he knows you hate grapes and he’s just doing this to annoy you. 

“You almost killed yourself, that’s what!” you huff back, poking him on the forehead. He bats your hand away, pouting. He’s about to say something annoying again, you can tell by the way his face scrunches up, but before any of that happens your eyes land on the growing burnt-red blotch on his knee. Tiny pieces of gravel stick to his skin and the sight makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. “Kookie, you’re bleeding! Oh God, you’re dying! You’re so stupid, Kookie, you killed yourself!”

“It’s just blood. I’m not dying.” He rolls his eyes, ignoring your hysterics. You then spot a long, thin gash near his elbow and nearly faint. Your eyes well up with tears, the sight of blood and ripped up skin making you nauseous. “You think this would kill me? I’m a dragon! I am eternal.”

You fear he’s finally lost it.

“If you’re going to die, do it quietly!” you cry harder, rubbing your runny nose with your sleeve. “I’m trying to grieve.”

You’ve long since outgrown the playground he used to chase you around in, frame too large to squeeze down the slide, but the familiar setting makes you feel nostalgic in the best of ways.

Jungkook slowly skids to a stop, black dust swirling into the air. He looks winded, a bit out of breath, like he’s just run a marathon and a half, when he turns to you and grins like he’s just gone and devoured the sun.

Even after all these years, it’s difficult to take Jungkook seriously when he waxes poetics for his scaly mythological ancestors. You hide an amused smile behind a curled fist while he puffs his chest out, recounting the gripping tale of the defeat of Armand the Dragon Slayer. He paints pictures of snow-capped mountains, too steep and dangerous to climb by foot, and one cave, whose contents were coveted by every neighboring kingdom.

“Once you enter—it’s as if time stands still. There are no sun and stars to indicate that time has slipped away,” he explains, drawing circles into the dust with his feet. “Only cold, impenetrable darkness. Perpetual night. But if you tread carefully enough, you’ll find it—the gold.” 

The sun is setting, bathing the playground in an orange glow. For a fleeting moment, Jungkook’s eyes shine amber and you can see the countless piles of gold and rubies reflected in his pupils.

You blink and amber fades back into brown.

Jungkook weaves his fingers between yours and pulls, the sudden movement sending you into straight into his lap. Immediately you feel the seat sink down, the additional weight making the chains groan loudly. Distantly, you worry you’ll be to blame if the entire thing falls apart but the unease soon ebbs away when Jungkook cants your head so he can stare at you levelly.

Your heart stutters in your chest when you meet his gaze that’s two thirds endearment and one third mischief. You’re so unaccustomed to the smirk that settles on his lips and the look he gives you, laden with hunger, that you almost coil back in shock.

The dating thing is still relatively new and everytime he toes into non-platonic territory you never know how to react. After being previously stuck in the friend zone for so long, there are times you find yourself at a loss, not knowing how to behave around him. Despite the official change in your relationship status, things aren’t any different from the way they used to be before. For the most part, Jungkook still treats you like his best friend—which in many ways is a relief, albeit a tad frustrating, because you want him to also treat you like his girlfriend.

It’s sweet that he’s willing to take things slowly. But how much slower can they get? You’ve known each other since you were able to waddle around in the sandbox… You’ve been experiencing the slow burn romance for nearly your entire life. So, yeah, sometimes it can get a bit frustrating, but as much as you want to shift gears and head into the fast lane, you know deep down you prefer the unhurried tempo he’s set.

“You know how this story ends, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Armand probably got roasted. Literally.” You answer back in a daze, distracted by the way the tip of his tongue prods out to wet his lips. “I’ve seen The Hobbit.”

Jungkook adjusts your body so that you’re comfortably splayed on his lap. You’re acutely aware of how the thin material of your skirt makes it easy to feel his rough denim jeans and the thighs of steel they cover. You swallow thickly, trying to appear unaffected but his smirk mocks your unsuccessful attempt at composure. 

“The Hobbit isn’t the most accurate depiction of us,” he clucks his tongue, strong arm circling your waist to hold you tighter against his chest, the soft scent of fabric softener engulfing you.

Remembering how to breathe proves to be a difficult task when he leans in to whisper, “but they were right about one thing. Dragons don’t like when others touch their prized possessions.”

“Are you saying you own me, Jeon Jungkook?” You pinch his cheek, jiggling the skin back and forth until he attempts to twist away from your grip with a wince. “If anything, I own you.”

“Why do you always have to make things about you? I didn’t even mention your name,” he whines, rubbing the blooming red mark on his face. “You’re so self-centered.”

“Sure,” you hum in agreement. “But you’re mine, right?”

You freeze when you realize what you’ve said but it’s too late to take it back now. Uncertainty seizes you, and you’re scared you’ve said something too brazen, too quickly. You try to pass it off as a joke but it’s been well over a decade since Jungkook’s known you, so he sees right through whatever front you put up.

“Yours,” he agrees easily, and then leans in to slant his lips against your own.

Jungkook is a far cry from the numerous fables and myths you’ve read and heard about. Dragons are reptiles (you assume, because you’ve never met one—save for Jungkook, but he doesn’t count). Dragons are supposed to be cold-blooded, and covered in an armor of scales, ice cold to the touch.

But with every press of his lips, you feel yourself melting, fire fueling through your veins and making your blood run hot with desire. Jungkook is warm, so warm you want to properly melt into him, mold yourself against his body to feel every line and ridge. The thoughts that cross your mind make you flush with arousal but instead of pulling back and blushing profusely like you would have normally done, you boldly swipe your tongue across his bottom lip.

Jungkook’s large hands squeeze your hip in response, fabric bunching up between his fingers. The drag of the cotton against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine, and you rock forward into his embrace driven entirely by instinct.

In the back of your mind, you can only imagine how scandalous the pair of you must look defiling the childrens’ swings set like a couple of hormonal teenagers. It’s indecent, you repeat to yourself, trying to get a hold of your senses that are being shrouded with lust.  

Everything requires careful maneuvering and restrained movements; you have to be mindful not to undulate your hips too forcefully into his, lest you push him off balance and you both fall off the swing. Even with that in mind, rationality flies out the metaphorical window when his teeth graze your lower lip. 

The grating squeaks of the chains do little to deter you, too preoccupied with Jungkook’s warm hands caressing your back, your shoulders, and neck to take heed of your surroundings. Nothing can interrupt you now, not when things are finally heading in the direction you want. 

Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, peppering hot kisses across the underside of your jaw, the tingling sensation aroused by his mouth robbing you of coherent thought. Jungkook grows more confident, emboldened by your reactions, and a hand sneaks it way to your breast. The heat emanating from his palm, obscured only by the material of your shirt and undergarment, sends a rush of arousal through your body. You’re nothing short of overwhelmed as his teeth dig into a sensitive spot on your neck and his thumb finds your hardened nipple that pebbles through the layers of fabric. Without warning, he presses down on your sensitive flesh with a flick of his thumb.

Your reaction is immediate, back arching shamelessly into his hand, silently seeking more friction, while your hips roll into his with thinly veiled desperation. You bite down a moan, fingers tugging the hairs at the nape of his neck, unsure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer. Jungkook gives a tentative thrust of his own, seat creaking under him, and you let out an embarrassing loud moan that has Jungkook groaning in turn against the damp skin of your neck.

Suddenly, you pull back with a gasp and if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s secure grip on your waist, you would have flailed off his lap and onto the ground. For a moment you wonder if you’re hallucinating, too drunk on arousal to think straight, but Jungkook shares your bewildered expression.

“I’m—”

“Jungkook, what was that?”

He blinks.

“Jungkook…” You tilt his chin up and examine his face from all possible angles. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, but you’re certain the rings of smoke drifting up into the air are not a product of your imagination. “Jungkook, I think steam came out of your nostrils.”

He gulps audibly and regards you with a guarded look, “that’s never happened before…” He opens his mouth as if to add something but then shuts it, cheeks tainted pink.

“What is it, Kookie?” you ask worriedly, hand palming the side of his face so he couldn’t escape your inquisitive stare.

“I heard that… I heard that could happen,” he says slowly, like he’s chewing his words out. “Steam can come out of my ears or nose if I’m angry. It happens to my dad, sometimes, but I didn’t know it was a thing that could happen to me.”

“Ah…” is all you can muster.

“Are you scared?”

“Uh, no, scared isn’t my word of choice. I’m just— I don’t really know… It’s just weird, I guess.“ You’re still trying to process this new development, mind whirring with thousands of questions.

“A bad weird?”

“No, not a bad weird,” you reply truthfully, fingers twiddling with the strings of his hoodie. “I’m just confused… I have a lot of questions.”

“Go ahead,” he nudges.

“It’s a lot to take in at once, but…“ You trail off, too hesitant to ask anything. 

There is so much you want to know but you’re uncertain where you should even start. Some questions seem too silly to utter out loud so you remain silent (even though you are dying to know how the heck dragons reproduce and end up making human-looking babies). The more you think about it, the less everything makes sense to you. But then again, dragons in general are a concept you’ve never taken seriously. Until today, that is. 

You decide to play it safe, reluctant to start off with the serious questions right away. “Why were you angry?”

“Wasn’t angry.” Jungkook bows his head, fringe falling in front of his eyes to avoid your scrutiny. “Can happen when I feel intense emotions.”

You mull over his words, taking in his embarrassed stance. It’s a rare sight to behold and makes you wonder why he’s acting this way, especially when he’s never been ashamed of his lineage. On the contrary, he’s always been proud of his dragon heritage which is why you’re confused as to why he’s suddenly acting bashful. 

“Kookie, did the steam come out because you were horny?” You try your best to keep the snicker out of your voice but that evidently fails when he pinches your side in playful retaliation.

“You’re okay with it, though?” He bites his lip, thumb rubbing the exposed skin near the waistband of your skirt. Goosebumps prickle where he touches you, but you wisely choose to ignore the way he’s affecting you for now, too busy trying to wrap your head around the fact your boyfriend is an actual fucking dragon.

“M’yeah, it’s—” you cut yourself off, unsure. So much has happened in the past ten minutes that it’s hard to formulate coherent sentences. “I mean, it’s definitely not normal, but it’s not, like, it’s not a deal breaker. I just…” There’s a short pause as you try to gather your thoughts. “You’re a dragon?”

“I am,” he rolls his eyes, but you can tell he looks less tense by the way the muscles on his face relax. “Why are you so surprised? I’ve been telling you I’m a dragon for ages.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now,” you argue, arms crossed defensively. “Is there anything else I should know about? Like, I dunno, scales? Claws? Perhaps a dragon soulmate that will tear me to shreds for allowing you to touch my left boob?”

“You’ve seen me shirtless.” His nose crinkles and it tells you he’s trying hard not to roll his eyes at your expense. “I don’t have scales. Or an angry dragon soulmate.”

”Why are you acting like I’m being ridiculous? I’m not the one who blew smoke out of my nose because I got a little too excited…” You raise yourself off his lap, readjusting your skirt. 

The red sun hangs low in the sky and the last traces of sunlight are not nearly enough to keep you warm after untangling your legs from Jungkook’s. You wrap your arms around yourself, lost in thought. 

Admittedly, you don’t know how else to react to the situation other than to joke around, “I just want to know what I should be expecting next… What if you breathe out fire when you cum? Do you, by the way? I deserve to know. Don’t want you burning my hair off when you bust a nut.” 

“You are ridiculous,” he snorts, stretching out his long limbs before getting to his feet, autumn leaves crackling under his weight. “Spitting fire when… Ha.”

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t!” he groans, running his fingers through his locks in exasperation. 

“Okay, if you say so,” you acquiesce, placing your hand in his outstretched one. 

You glance down at your intertwined hands, silently relishing the way the warmth of his skin cocoons your small fist. That’s when you realize the revelation holds no sway over your emotions because dragon or not, Jungkook is still the love of your life and the best friend you occasionally want to punch in the face. It’s been a gradual process, the shift from friends to lovers, so at times your heart does still oscillate between the two. 

It’s strange, to say the least. For the longest time, you’ve separated your romantic feelings from your platonic ones. The line had been clearly drawn: Jungkook was either your friend or your lover—never both. So it’s difficult to adhere to the notion that the terms are not mutually exclusive. It’s something you both struggle with if the pace of your relationship is anything to go by.

Jungkook squeezes your hand in his and gives you a smile so genuinely sweet your heart swells with affection. 

You don’t want to admit it verbally, especially knowing how much your friends would tease you, but you’re quite certain your feelings would stay unchanging. He could sprout a tail the next day and you would still love his scaly ass.

I’m so fucking whipped, you inwardly groan right before you squeeze his hand back.


Before you know it, winter quickly sets in, snowflakes frosting the ground, the playground now covered in a thick blanket of white. You’ve never been more thankful your boyfriend is a dragon (or a long lost descendant of one). His body is a furnace, insides made of molten lava that chase away any cold-induced numbness.

After that tryst on the children’s swing, you expect your relationship to keep on progressing in that direction. Yet over the next few weeks, things go back to the snail’s pace you’re used to. Everything is perfectly fine the way things are, you convince yourself. You’re content with cuddles on the couch by the fireplace and soft kisses under the dim porch light.

Still, you can’t help but feel like a big pervert at times, especially when you catch yourself studying his fingers when he chops up vegetables on the cutting board or the way his shoulders flex under his shirt when he changes the light bulb that hangs overhead the buffet. You reluctantly learn to dial back the attraction you feel in his presence, resigning yourself to chaste hugs and pg-13 caresses. 

That’s why you’re surprised when you find yourself catching your breath, pulse racing with urgent need, bra strap sliding off your shoulder blades and goosebumps littering your skin. You’re so accustomed to the unofficial “no touching” rule, that the abrupt development throws you completely off-guard.

It takes a few dizzying seconds for you to float back down to earth but once you do your eyes blow open when you take in Jungkook’s bare form. When had his clothes come off? You can’t remember anything but the strong scent of juniper and black cedarwood and the burn of his hands as they stroked your body into overdrive.

Your eyes trail down his well-defined chest, admiring the way the sheen of sweat makes his skin glisten like an oiled painting, when suddenly your gaze lands on his crotch. A shriek spills from your lips before you have time to subdue your visceral reaction.

Jungkook is tall, taller than the other guys your age, and you’ve always loved his larger, broader frame. It comes in handy sometimes, like when you need to reach something on the top shelf or when the ceiling needs to be repainted. He’s always been taller and bigger in every possible aspect, one of his hands easily covering your own, so it really shouldn’t surprise you that Jungkook is particularly well endowed down there, too.

You just don’t expect it to be that huge.

“What is that?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at your slightly horrified expression, visibly taken aback by your reaction. 

His clothes are thrown haphazardly on the floor, your sweater hanging off the corner of the bed—all proof of your pent up passion. But as much as you would like to continue on with no interruptions, your discovery puts a halt to your original intentions. 

“What does it look like?” he asks dryly, unimpressed by your theatrics.

“Uh, it looks like it’s going to tear my vag in two, that’s what it looks like.” You sit up straight, not bothering to hide the panic that suddenly wracks your small frame. 

You know size is something people usually like to brag about but Jungkook’s impressive length and girth only intimidate you. Sweat trickles down the side of your neck the more you try to picture his dick penetrating you. Frankly speaking, you doubt it’ll ever fit inside you, let alone for it to be a pleasurable experience… 

At a glance, the feat seems impossible. Jungkook isn’t even fully hard and his member already looks like some kind of weapon ready to destroy you. You’re desperately hoping he’s a shower and not a grower because otherwise you’ll be saying goodbye to your vagina.

“Kookie, it’s the size of my fucking forearm!”

“Why are you always so dramatic? It’s not, oh my—you are ridiculous.” He swats your arm away from his genitals, an offended look marring his features.

“Okay, it’s not,” you relent, before mumbling under your breath, “barely.”

“Fucking chill,” he sighs, rubbing his temple. “I’m not going to shove it in, okay? We’ll take it slow. Don’t worry, babe.”

His words of reassurance only have the opposite desired effect. You trust Jungkook not to shove it in, but regardless of his intentions, you can only see this ending badly. 

You wriggle around on the sheets, trying to find the most comfortable position. “Of course I’m worried,” you shoot back, gulping audibly, eyes still fixated on his dick. “Is that… Is that a dragon thing, too?”

“Maybe?” He looks down at his dick with a look of deep contemplation. “Want me to ask my dad?” 

“Shut the fuck up, you’re killing the mood.”

“Screaming as soon as you saw my dick didn’t exactly help either,” Jungkook points out as he flops down next to you on the bed, mattress squeaking loudly in protest.

You roll over on your side so you can face him properly. Jungkook shifts in response and throws a heavy arm over your shoulders, pulling you close so that the space separating your bodies vanishes. You automatically sink into his familiar embrace, accustomed to the way your soft curves fit against his torso.

A comfortable silence envelops the pair of you. As much as the constant bickering and back-and-forth banter entertains you, the lulls in conversations are a welcome reprieve. You take the time to map out the beauty marks near his collarbones, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat beneath the pads of your fingertips. His body is strong and sturdy, muscles flexing under the light drag of your nails. 

“Hey.” A slow grin curves at his lips when you turn to look up at him. 

You decide you like these quiet moments the most. There’s really nowhere else you would rather be than in his arms, one hand petting the crown of your head in a calming gesture while the other one holds you close to his chest. It feels kind of domestic, somehow, and has you thinking about the infinite possibilities a future with Jungkook holds. 

It’s during times like these you let yourself entertain the thought of waking up every day in Jungkook’s arms, legs tangled together, his face nuzzled in your hair or the crook of your neck, chest rising steadily under the palm of your hand. You think about this often, actually. More often than you’ll ever admit. 

“Hi,” you smile back.

“We don’t have to, you know.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity that drips off his words has your stomach fluttering.

“Don’t have to what?”

“We don’t have to have sex. Don’t want to pressure you into anything. I’m good with whatever you want, babe,” he admits, eyes bright with endearment.

Something flares in your chest. You recognize the feeling right away; the surge of competitiveness that shoots up your spine whenever he insinuates you’re too chicken has gotten you into trouble time and time again. And although you know that’s not what he’s implying this time, you stubbornly hold on to the urge to prove him wrong.

So, as much as you appreciate the sentiment—

“I want to!” Your statement comes out more forceful than intended but you refuse to back down now. “I want to have sex with you, it’s just, well… Slow, right?”

“We can go slow,” Jungkook agrees at once, corners of his mouth upturned into a reassuring smile. “We’ll go as slow as we need to… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, okay.” You worry your lower lip which he notices immediately. He traces the seam of your mouth with his thumb, forcing you to stop rolling the flesh between your teeth.

“Hey— We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You can always change your mind; it’s okay, babe.”

“I know,” you stress. “I’m just a little nervous. Your schlong is longer than a fucking parsnip so I’m worried you’re going to spear me open.”

“Shut up,” grumbles Jungkook, embarrassed. 

“You have three legs,” you press on, unaware of his anxious fidgeting. “Do they even make condoms in your size?”

He laughs in response but you’ve known him for so long now that you can tell right away that something is wrong. Maybe it’s the way his eyes refuse to meet your own or the way the sound cuts off in his throat. The forced expression on his face is like a physical punch to the gut. 

You did that. 

Something ugly twists in your stomach and you feel sick. You’re hit with the alarming realization that you’ve been horribly insensitive, completely disregarding Jungkook’s feelings and his own apprehension. Guilt weighs down on you and you want to kick yourself for being such an asshole. 

You have the tendency to cover up your anxiety by joking around. But you’re old enough to know that it doesn’t give you a pass for being an asshat—especially when Jungkook has been nothing but kind and patient with you. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you apologize, taking his hand in yours. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t.” He squeezes your hand in his, wordlessly forgiving you. “It’s just— It sucks, you know? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish my cock was smaller.”

“No, it’s— “

“I want to have sex normally, without having to worry about whether my partner’s vagina will still be functioning once we’re done,” he continues, visibly worked up. “People always go on about wanting a pornstar dick but once they see mine they want to run to the fucking Himalayas. Yeah, sorry, I just… Yeah.” 

You swallow, feeling like absolute shit for reacting the way you did. It’s not like Jungkook chose to have a giant dick… The last thing you want is for him to feel ashamed or guilty for his body which is something he has no control over in any case.

“Jungkook, I’m honestly really sorry. I was being a bitch. Your dick size doesn’t actually matter to me—you know that right? I’d still love you regardless. You could have horns and a scaly back. I really don’t care about that.” 

“Yeah?”

“’Course not.” You smile up at him, rose dusting your cheeks. “I was in love with you before I even knew those limp noodles were called dicks.”

He snorts, the sound escaping before he can bite it down. The sound makes your lips quirk up in response. The tight ball of nerves in your chest unfurls and the muscles in your shoulders go lax. You still regret being that insensitive over an issue that clearly bothers him but you’re glad he’s accepted your apology, even if you don’t deserve it.

“Sex isn’t a necessary step. I didn’t fall for you because of your dragon dick.”

“Oh, you didn’t?” Jungkook feigns disappointment. “And here I thought my monstrous size was what won you over…”

“We’ll work up to it,” he adds once your giggles die down. “We’ll go as slow as we need to. I have all the time in the world to get you ready for my cock.”

“You know we can have sex without penetration, right?” 

“You want to give it a go now?” he hums jokingly, nudging your nose with his own. 

“I’m pretty dry right now.” 

“Yeah? It’s nothing I can’t work with.” A sly smirk pulls at his lips causing you to huff at his cockiness. 

“We’ll see about that. Get to it, babe,” you mock, goading him on.

“Are you doubting me right now?” He chuckles lowly and the sound shoots straight to your core. He leans in, close enough for the warmth of his breath to tickle your ear, “I’ll make you take me seriously.”

And with that he bites down on your lobe. Your body jerks forward at the unexpected sting, chest crashing into his. Jungkook traces the sides of your flank before grabbing your ass, skin soft and pliant under his palms. He squeezes, smirking when you shudder in his hold, before his hands come crashing down with an audible slapping sound that echoes in the quiet of his room.

“Wha—” You’re cut off as his mouth presses against yours, chapped lips melding against your own.

You can’t help but rut forward, thighs rubbing together, seeking any form of relief you can find.

“Fuck, okay,” you whimper as he pulls away to catch his breath. “Here, like this.”

He digs the pads of his fingertips into your cheeks while rolling onto his back. Instinctively you tighten your hold around him, body sinking into his like mush. You find yourself splayed out on top of him, his strong hands keeping your pelvis attached to his own, his hardening dick poking your thigh. 

You sit up, adjusting yourself so that you’re now perched comfortably atop his growing erection. The sight of him sprawled out underneath you is so tempting that only your last remaining traces of sanity prevent you from jumping his bones right then and there. Instead of ravishing him like a woman gone mad, you roll your hips, keenly aware that the last barrier separating your bodies makes it easy to feel his hardness drag against your soaked center.

“That’s right, ride my cock,” he smirks, hands still groping your ass. 

Any witty retort dies in your throat the moment he rocks into you, meeting one of your tentative hip thrusts. Wetness soaks through your ruined lace and coats his member in a sheen layer of slick. You can barely feel the sodden material, too lost in pleasure, but a well-timed thrust has the fabric rubbing against your clit, rendering you speechless. Only heavy pants fall from your lips, face flushed with exertion, the muscles in your thighs trembling.

“So good for me,” he bites his lip in an effort to muffle his groans. “You’re always so good for me. My good girl.”

His words go straight to your bundle of nerves, fueling your rampant desire, and you roll down your hips more forcefully, doing your best to alleviate the pressing ache. Your core burns with the need for attention and it soon becomes apparent that your inexperienced undulations are not nearly enough friction.

Jungkook pulls you down and kisses you, teeth clashing into yours as he rolls you over once more, looking like a man starved and on a mission.

With nimble fingers, he quickly peels off the useless undergarment and lets it fall to the ground without a second glance, knees nudging your legs apart. 

At once, his jaw goes slack, black orbs feasting on the way you glisten for him. He takes his index and middle finger and pulls your lips apart for a better view. The direct contact with your sensitive skin makes you jolt, moan stuck in your throat.

Jungkook mutters your name reverently, in awe, watching you intently with evident arousal marred onto his features.

“Look at you.” His lips are swollen, bitten red. “You’re getting my sheets dirty.”

You try to squirm away from his hold but his grip on your thighs is firm, keeping you pinned where he wants you. An embarrassed whine escapes you, skin heating up under his intense scrutiny, and your core clenches subconsciously.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he swallows, eyes darkening with lust. “All for me.”

His long fingers stroke you teasingly, coaxing the longing within you to a firestorm. But the light touches only agitate you further, riling you up until it’s too much.

“C’mon,” you whine, hips canting in a futile attempt at gratification. “Please, come on.”

“What do you want, hm?” 

What you want is to kick the smug look off his face but you know that resorting to violence won’t get you what you want. Knowing your boyfriend, he would probably use your show of intemperance to tease you even further. Fucker, you pout in annoyance.

The easiest method to obtain what you want is to give in to his whims. As much as it pains you to stroke his already huge ego, you know it’s the only solution. He’s worked you up too much for you to put up much of a fight; you can spot a lost battle when you see one.

“Want you,” you mumble, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“What was that?” he mocks, smirk ever present. “What do you want?”

When you don’t answer right away he growls your name in warning, the gruff noise making you shudder. Your head swims with arousal and you barely have time to think of a coherent answer when he suddenly pinches your clit between his slippery fingers.

“Speak up,” he orders, ignoring the sharp cry that echoes in the room.

Your mind is reeling; it feels like you are stuck in an alternate reality. You’re having a hard time believing your relationship is taking such a sudden turn, but you don’t have much time to think it through before Jungkook delivers a swat on the inside of your thigh to keep you focused. Distantly, you wonder how he was ever able to hold himself back before. 

“Want you,” you repeat, a little louder this time, sweat dampening your neck. “I want your fingers, please, I— I want you to touch me properly.”

Pink colors your cheeks as humiliation courses through you. You don’t like being reduced to an unintelligible mess, especially since it’ll only go to Jungkook’s head. He looks pleased at your reaction and leans forward to catch your lips with his just as he eases a finger into your warmth. All previous irritation melts away as your mind zeroes in on the licks of pleasure that curl around your spine.

The foreign feeling has you seizing up, insides clamping down on the intruding digit. Jungkook swallows down your moans, lips working feverishly against your own while his finger rubs your slick walls. When you start to relax around him, he carefully draws it back out before thrusting again, a loud squelch audible even over the thrumming of your heart and your shameless moans.

“Okay, Christ,” he looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, finger still slowly working you open. “You’re so small.”

“Let me get the lube, I don’t want to hurt you,” he leans down to brush his lips against yours, softer this time, before pulling away completely. 

You shiver as the cold air kisses your body. It’s not even been a full ten seconds but you already miss the warmth that Jungkook provides. Now that he’s gone, you feel like your nipples are going to fall off from the cold at any given moment.

Jungkook uncaps the lube and spreads a generous amount on his fingers. The sight makes your every nerve seize up with anticipation.

He works in two fingers slowly—so slowly you’re overcome with the urge to kick him again, only because the expectation keeps building in your chest like a mounting wave right before it crashes. You can feel the stretch but his languid strokes do little to bring you pleasure and you huff impatiently.

Jungkook must sense your agitation because he halts his ministrations in warning, “we’re doing this slowly or not at all.” 

The surprising sternness in his tone calms you down at once, and you go limp and pliant under his attentive care. The fire takes awhile to spread from your core to the extremities of your body, but with every methodical prod and brush of his fingers, longing burns in your veins.

“Can you take another one? Want to stretch you out a bit more,” Jungkook pants, fingers still working their way into your heat. You nod, lip caught between your teeth, and he takes his slicked digits out, coating on more lube to ease you through it.

“Fuck, babe.” His voice sounds strained, and you don’t need to open your eyes to see he’s wincing. “Babe, stop clenching.”

“J-Jungkook, I,” you stutter out, moving your head to bury your face in the pillow. You want to be good for him so you feel bad for letting him down, but you refuse to just troop through the pain silently. “Jungkook, please, it hurts.”

Instantly, he stops thrusting his hand, his fingers still buried in your wet heat. Instead of resuming his thrusts, he settles for moving his fingers back and forth inside of you, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your walls. You can still feel the pressure but the pain is mostly gone. 

Your mind is so focused on the stretch of your walls around him that you hardly notice him scooting forward until his tongue flicks over your dripping wetness. Before you can stop yourself, your walls clamp down on his three fingers; you can’t help but let out a gasp at how full you feel, eyes blinking back the white spots that fleck your vision.

“You’re so good for me,” he praises between the kisses he leaves on the insides of your thigh. “Such a good girl. Feel so tight and fuuckk—”

The delirious notes make you glance down and your stomach tightens as you take in his mussed up hair, matted with sweat, and the wild look in his eyes; the sight alone has you clenching down on his fingers once more. You feel the mattress move beneath you and from your vantage point, propped up against the pillows, you can see Jungkook grinding his pelvis into the sheets, searching for his own friction. Knowing how much this is affecting him gets your blood boiling, and you let a pained whimper. 

“Cock—” you gasp, grabbing his hair and forcing his mouth away from your heat. “Want it, please.”

“Can’t say that shit to me, Christ.” He spreads his fingers inside of you and you keen at the sudden stretch. “Can’t even take my fingers, look.”

He repeats the action and you try your best to swallow down your whine but he sees right through you. “You’re not ready for my cock.”

“Please,” you beg, even though logically you know it’s a bad idea. Even now, through the haze of lust, it registers that it isn’t the best suggestion you’ve ever had. But you want to feel him, you want to be closer in any way you can. You can’t explain your irrational need for him, for his dick.

“Okay, I’ll let you have it,” he relents after a moment of hesitation. “Open your legs for me.”

You’re too far gone to care about propriety and you widen your legs easily, greedily drinking in his expression of raw hunger that darkens his face. Grappling around the bed blindly, he finds the discarded bottle of lube and squeezes an abnormal amount onto his shaft, hand quickly working to spread it out over his impressive size.

Panic grips you then, and you’re suddenly reminded as to why sex with Jungkook isn’t something that should be happening after you had struggled to take in his fingers. You’re about to open your mouth to warn him you’ve changed your mind, when he slides his hardened member between your legs. You wince, expecting pain to pierce through your body but none comes. Instead of sheathing himself inside you, he’s rubbing himself against you. 

Jungkook rocks forward, letting his throbbing length slide through your slick lips, the lube making the glide all the easier. He maneuvers your legs to that they’re now squeezing his dick, giving you both more friction. 

“Nghh, fuck,” he grunts over you, watching your heat hug him snugly. He glances back up at you to gauge your reaction, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on your thighs when he takes in your fucked out state.

“Shit— why is this still on?” You look down at your bra in confusion, but before you can move to take it off, Jungkook pulls the cups down, leaving the material bunched awkwardly below your breasts. He doesn’t move to take it off further, hands already occupied with squeezing the soft flesh.

He gives an experimental hard thrust, memorizing the way your breasts bounce with the movement. The drag of his length hits your clit, eliciting an unrestrained cry. You’re way too fucked out to care any more about anything except for your pleasure. Your hands scramble for purchase on his broad shoulders, fingernails leaving pink lines that will stay marked on his skin for days.

“You’re doing so good,” he pants, muscles straining with effort, hips grinding into yours to give you more gratification. 

You’ve been so pent up in only takes one well placed swivel of his hip for your breath to catch in your throat, head tipping back to bare the column of your throat. Your orgasm explodes—every nerve electrified as if your body was a live wire. You’re left bereft of speech, hips rutting up against his on their own accord, mouth open in a silent scream. 

Jungkook coaxes you through it with words of encouragement and soft rolls of his hips, hands caressing your arms with much more tenderness than you would have expected. It takes a moment for the roaring in your ears to quiet down, but once you finally even out your breathing, you smile up at Jungkook, thoroughly sated. 

You go to wrap your hand around his length, intent on making him feel good too, but he grasps your wrist, effectively halting your movements, “it’s fine.” He shakes your hand off with an easy smile. “I’m good.”

“I’m not going to break your dick off, y’know.” You pout, “I know I’m clumsy and I break things easily but I’m not that incompetent.”

Jungkook’s chest rumbles with laughter and you bite your lip, trying to hold back your own amusement, before pushing you down on the bed and scrambling to his knees. His figure looms over you while his hand pumps his shaft in furious strokes, desperate to reach his end. The mere sight of him losing his composure sends warm tingles down your spine that comes to pool in your lower stomach. He groans out your name like he’s being physically pulled apart by the seams, body cloaked in sweat, and you mouth goes dry with renewed desire.

Finally, it irrupts—white coating your body like snow. The warm liquid paints the apex of your thighs, spurting over your stomach in thick ropes, hitting the underside of your breast and spilling onto the sheets. There’s so much of it your hand comes up in defense, fingers now thoroughly coated in his seed. 

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. No one makes a move to go clean up.

“When was the last time you jerked off?” you ask conversationally, globs of cum trickling down your side and onto the bed spread. It feels… You squirm a little. It feels weird but surprisingly the sensation is not as unpleasant as you imagined it would be. “Is it always like this?”

He shrugs, shoulders hunching into a predatory stance. His eyes are glassy, chest flushed with exertion, and you expect him to collapse by your side, worn out from the strenuous activity. Instead, he crouches closer to observe his work with poorly concealed fascination. He drags his index finger through fields of white, uncovering a sliver of skin. 

Swallowing thickly, he goes to finger you again, rubbing his seed against your walls. He repeats this process several times, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, attention focused entirely on his task. 

“I’m not saying no, but,” you interrupt, brow arching. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not sure either, “ he blinks up at you, equally puzzled. “Just had this sudden urge to make sure my cum was in you.”

“Is that a dragon thing or a Jungkook thing?”

“Both? Possibly?” He looks unsure, fingers still lodged in your heat. 

He looks back up at you, suddenly looking much too smug for your liking. “So, how was it? Sex with a dragon live up to your expectations?”

“It was fine,” you shrug, biting the inside of your cheek to keep a straight face. “You were okay, but…”

“But?” Jungkook raises an inquisitive eyebrow, looking offended.

“I think we should do it again, just to make sure.”

“Can’t get enough of the dragon dick,” he hums, satisfaction settling onto his features.

He dodges the pillow you throw at him, cackling. 



a/n: okay fun fact time,, apparently “the female lays eggs and male fertilizes them” so. yeah. idk how accurate this is, bc… you know… dragons

i was going through writer’s block and this got me back into writing lmao so ty for reading this mess, hopefully i will be writing normal things again :’’)

anonymous asked:

Harry asking you to move in with him!

HE WOULD BE SO NERVOUS.

He knows this is a serious thing, and when he went over the thought with his mother, she informed him of how much this would entail, and that it’s a serious step forward in any relationship, and to always make sure that you, and the other person, is ready.

When he went over the thought with Gemma, the only thing she said was, “Just don’t get her knocked up.”

He kept both things in mind.

After getting a duplicate key made – just in case the world was on his side and you said yes – he slowly began making room in his closet, and quickly coming to terms that, “Yes, maybe I do have more shoes than a person should acquire in a lifetime,” and, “Does a single person need these many flashy sweaters?” But he quickly shook his head because, “Yes. Yes, they do.”

He wonders if he is this nervous to ask you to change address, he bets he’ll be shitting himself when he asks you to change your last name.

When you do go over to his house, in nothing but your pajamas and an overnight bag that you tossed precariously over his bed, he finds you perching yourself onto the counter to grab the popcorn from the microwave.

“Think we should invest in a step stool for you, love.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one investing in a step stool?” You quirk an eyebrow, jumping back down on the ground and opening up the bag. “Maybe have a second one here since I’m climbing all over the place like a monkey because you keep everything up high.”

“Or maybe I should just put everything within arm’s reach for you.”

“You’re here more than me – don’t see how that’s necessary.” Once you turn around, you have to do a doubletake as you’re met with your boyfriend – dressed in his own pajamas – kneeling down on the floor.

“Did you drop something?”

“I have a serious question to ask you.” He pauses to remove the key from his pocket, when you instantly chime back up.

“Are you proposing? Because I really didn’t want buttery fingers when you prop—”

“I love you and you love me, right? And we’ve been together for a while now, and your lease is up in a month, and I think we’re at the place now…where…we could…continue doing exactly that but from one address.”

You stare back at him blankly, your gaze falling down toward the object in his hand, and back up at him.

“You just want me to move—”

“Will you move in with me?” He reached out his fingers toward you, and as you studied the key in his grasp, you slowly set your popcorn aside and reached down to take the key. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a ye—shit.” They key instantly dropped to the floor, and with a roll of your eye, you fall to your knees to grab it. “Sorry, butter fingers.”

anonymous asked:

Harry teasing you for your love of books, he takes one and makes voices for characters but ends up really engrossed

THAT BITCH WOULD.

I currently have a library in my room, and the shitty part is when I moved back from New York, I left my bookshelves at my apartment, and so now the entirety of below my bed, is just stacks and stacks of books. It’s awful.

Anyway, Harry wouldn’t call himself ‘jealous’ of your books, but he’s jealous of your books. There are days he can’t even manage a cuddle on your lap without a book hovering above his head, or at night when the two of you are preparing for bed, you sit perched up against your pillows, completely engulfed in your novel.

“Oi, what we got here?” He pokes his head from beneath your book, his body nestled closely against yours, as you skim the pages. “Is this another one of those mystery ones? I bet the butler did it—”

“Harry, please—”

“Oh, I can have you saying that later—”

“Go read your porn poetry, or something—”

“Would much rather do a live action of that porn poetry.”

“Later – just let me finish this cha—”

“Is this a sequel to the last one? Did the butler really not do it? Who keeps killing people?”

And as much as he craved your attention when you were too busy giving it to something else, a time came while you were out shopping, that he noticed one of your current book obsessions laying open on the kitchen island, and his curiosity got the better of him.

What about this book could be so captivating?

Well, he done played himself, because by the time you arrived home, he sat on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and his eyes plastered to the pages.

“Why… Harry, why are you—”

“Sh, pet. The nurse is having an affair with the officer, and she’s trying to bribe him into burning the documents…”

“You aren’t serious, are you? You were making fun of them last night—”

“Love, the officer’s ex-wife just had dinner with one of the surgeons, whose wife just went missing in the woods, and now all of a sudden this nurse wants to sleep with the officer, because she knows that someone knows she’s involved somehow. And who just wanders around the woods alone at night?… Pretty dumb if you ask me.”

“Probably because she wasn’t wandering around the woods, and they moved the body—”

“Quiet! Don’t tell me anymore!”

“You haven’t even read the first one yet!”

He slowly moved the book down to his lap, his eyes transfixed in front of him. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, before he slowly closed the book and raised himself from his seat.

“Explains why I’m confused then.” He sat the book down back on the island, and trudged up the stairs to your bookcase.

What many people don’t understand is that it’s not some “celebrity death”. It’s the loss of a dear friend. A role model. A life saviour. The reason to go on. The reason to smile. The person who helped so many people find friends via the community. The voice that put the things into words that couldn’t be said. The one who screamed in our place when we had to stay silent.
The one who even brings people together now after his passing. So keep your stupid comments for yourself. Nobody has the time or the nerve for them.

I know it’s a modern age, but I have huge love for the Universe, and definitely about the energy you put out.
So, I’m going to share a little thing my mom told me about one of her aunts. One of her aunts was known for doing brujeria nergra, in fact, she was feared by other people, but did service to those who wished to harm others. My mom says that currently she’s blind, and lives alone aging, unable to die. Like, she’s in pain, and wants natural death but is unable to.

Little Things (Grayson Dolan x Reader)

AN: I thought because of how we have all been feeling for the past week, that we all deserve some fluff. Hope you guys like it!

It was around 3am and I was lying in Grayson's’ bed as he was just saving his part of the video that he has spent all night editing. I didn’t mind quiet nights like this with Grayson. I looked back down at my phone, answering my group chat that I had with Leena and Miranda when I heard soft sounds of the piano. I looked up to see Graysons bare back facing me while he sat at the piano. I smiled looking over at my boyfriend of almost 2 years. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have him in my life.

Originally posted by monochromancy

It took me a while to realize what song he was trying to play. Once I heard what he was playing a smile immediately spread across my face. It was “Little Things” by One Direction. I stood up and started walking over to Grayson. His back still turned to me and his eyes focused on the white and black keys. I hesitated at first, but I started to softly sing along to what Grayson was playing.

“The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine,” As soon as I sang that, I slowly ran my hand down Graysons back towards his 2 back dimples that he has.

“But I’ll love them endlessly.”

I lean over to kiss him on the cheek when I saw him smirk. I walked back and sat on the edge of his bed. He stopped playing and turned around quickly to tackle me down onto his bed. I looked up at my smiling boyfriend and ran my fingers through the back of his hair. He had himself propped up on his right elbow while his left hand intertwined with my right hand.

Originally posted by majesticdolans

“Keep going babe. Sing my favourite part.” Grayson looked up at me and smiled. I felt my face begin to heat up, not just from the request but also from the fact that this boy could have me do anything for him because of his smile.

“You never love yourself half as much as I love you. You’ll never treat yourself right darling but I want you to. If I let you know, I’m here for you. Maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you oh”

I looked up at Grayson who was smiling down at me. He started to peck kisses all over my face and neck quickly to the point where I couldn’t help but laugh. He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose and lastly softly on my lips. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving me with my eyes closed but a smile on my face.

Originally posted by pleasingpics

“God, I love you so much. I’m lucky to have you.” Grayson wrapped his left arm around my waist bring me closer to him. I looked up at him as we made eye contact and I smiled.

“I’m in love with you, and all your little things Gray.”

Created FAQ Page for Daycare

Hellooooo, it took me goddang long enough, but I finally made a FAQ page for Moosen’s Daycare! This has basic information, such as what the daycare idea is about, how to “apply” and interact, who the care-takers are, who the parents are, and most importantly, who the kiddos are! (( x ))

It will probably be updated as the idea grows and more kiddos are sent in or new info pops up ;)