Hello

a/n: hi pretties! I've had this story drafted for a while and finally finally finally finished it up! currently obsessed with biker jungkook so I thought why not write something with this baddie vibe. also I have dark&wild on repeat and it's sooo west coast coded, hence the 2000s socal aesthetic for the story. my next post will be part 2 for what happens in vegas, for those of you that are interested in reading it! well I hope you enjoy reading this and don't forget to heart and reblog ⋆. 𐙚 ˚<3

The phone book page is soft with humidity, yellow edges curling where you've gripped it too hard. You started with the full-page ads, the ones with motorcycles silhouetted against sunsets and 24-hour towing promises, but they're all the way out in Riverside or asking questions you don't want to answer about make and model. So you went to the small print, the entries that are just names and numbers, and found him third from the bottom in a column of locksmiths and septic tank services.

JK MOTOR REPAIR. No address listed, but the exchange is local.

You memorized the directions he gave you over the phone, repeating them back while standing in your kitchen with the cordless pressed to your ear, certain you're going to end up in someone's backyard being murdered. But the street is real, the building is real, a narrow storefront wedged between a check-cashing place and a store that sells quinceañera dresses in neon pink and electric blue. The garage door is open when you pull up, late afternoon sun cutting hard shadows across the concrete.

You kill the engine. The bike ticks cooling, and you sit there a second longer than you need to, watching the interior.

The shop is deeper than it looks from the street, a tunnel of tool chests and hanging parts and a hydraulic lift that hasn't been raised in a while. There's a radio playing somewhere, something you don't recognize, guitar and a man's voice that sounds like it's coming through a wall. You can smell oil, the particular sweet rot of gasoline that means someone spilled it and cleaned it up but not really.

"Help you?"

You didn't see him. He's in the shadow near the back, bent over something on a workbench that catches the light in pieces. He doesn't straighten up all the way, just enough to look at you, and you see grease on his forearms where he's pushed his sleeves up, and a streak across his jaw you suspect he doesn't know about.

"Phone book," you say, which is not an answer. "I called. About the steering."

He comes toward you then, wiping his hands on a rag that doesn't look like it's helping. He's younger than you expected from his voice, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six, with hair pushed back from his face, an arm full of tattoos, and the kind of tan that comes from being outside at the wrong hours. He looks at your bike, not at you, and you feel the strange relief of being assessed as a mechanical problem first.

"Bring it in."

You wheel it up the slight incline, the concrete uneven where years of tires have worn channels. He meets you at the bench and takes the handlebars without asking, straddling the seat to test the weight, and you watch his thighs spread against the leather, the shift of his shoulders as he turns the front fork back and forth.

"Gritty," he says.

"That's the word."

"Only when you steer?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think so. It's hard to tell when you're actually riding it."

He makes a small sound, not quite agreement, and keeps working the handlebars. The motion is rhythmic, hypnotic, his body rocking with the resistance. You can hear it now, the catch in the steering column, a grinding that isn't quite mechanical failure but isn't right either.

"How long's it been doing this?"

"A week. Maybe two."

He looks up at you then, direct, and you see that his eyes are very dark, and that he has a small scar through his left eyebrow that breaks the hair into two distinct sections.

"You ride it every day?"

"Most days."

"And you waited two weeks."

"I was busy."

"Busy."

"Yes."

He goes back to the bike, but you think you see something shift in his mouth, not quite a smile. He releases the handlebars and steps back, and you miss the motion of him immediately, the way he made your machine into something he was touching with intention.

"I can look at it. Leave it overnight."

You hadn't planned on that. You look around the shop, the single window in the back that's probably an office, the door that probably leads to an alley or nowhere. You think about being without your bike, about coming back tomorrow, about the fact that you don't know his name and he hasn't asked for yours.

"Is that necessary?"

"Not if you want to keep hearing that noise."

You watch him watch you, his expression patient in a way that feels practiced, like he's used to people deciding whether to trust him. The radio has moved on to something else, slower, a woman singing about wanting someone who's bad for her.

"I can wait," you say. "If it's something you can do now."

He looks at the bike, then at the street outside where the light is starting to turn gold, the long shadows of palm trees you can't see but know are there, everywhere in this city, marking the hours.

"Hour till I close," he says. "I can look. But I'm not stopping if you change your mind."

"I won't."

He nods, once, and reaches for a tool on the bench, some kind of wrench you don't recognize. "There's a chair. Or you can stand there. Your choice."

You stay standing. You tell yourself it's because the chair looks like it was salvaged from a dentist's office in the seventies, cracked vinyl and exposed springs, but really it's because you want to see his hands on your bike, the way he moves around it, the way he knows exactly where to touch.

He works in silence for a while, the radio filling the space. You learn things about him without meaning to: he's left-handed, he has a habit of holding screws in his mouth when he needs both hands, he doesn't wear a watch but checks the time on a clock you can't see, somewhere in the back. When he finally speaks again, you startle.

"You found me in the phone book."

"Yeah."

"Nobody uses the phone book."

"I do."

He looks up at you, the screw still between his teeth, and you see that thing in his mouth again, not quite a smile, something more knowing.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why me? Big ad, three pages back. Mike's Cycle. They do free estimates."

You feel your face heat, the specific embarrassment of being caught in a choice you can't fully explain. "You were closer."

"To where?"

"Home."

He takes the screw from his mouth and turns back to the bike, but you know he's filed the information away, that he's thinking about where you live now, mapping it, probably knowing the neighborhoods better than you do.

"You're lucky," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Could've been worse than gritty steering. Could've been your brakes."

"I check my brakes."

"Course you do."

He says it like he doesn't believe you, like he's teasing you, and you feel the strange urge to prove yourself, to list the maintenance you do, the way you know your own machine. But he's moving again, rolling the bike onto a stand, and you watch the shift of his shoulders under his thin t-shirt, the way his jeans hang low on his hips, the dark line of a waistband you can see when he reaches up for something.

The sun is lower now, cutting across the floor in a band of orange light that catches dust and makes it look like something intentional, like stage lighting. You're aware of your own breathing, of the fact that you haven't moved in several minutes, of the way he hasn't asked you to leave or offered you anything to drink or done any of the things that would have made this feel like a normal transaction between strangers.

"What's your name?" you ask.

He doesn't answer right away. He's bent over the front fork, his face close to the metal, and you can see him listening to something, feeling for something with his fingers that you can't see.

"Jungkook," he says finally, like he's deciding to give it to you. "Shop's mine."

"Just you?"

"Just me."

You wait for him to ask your name in return, but he doesn't. He keeps working, and you keep watching, and the hour he promised stretches longer in the golden light, the radio playing songs you don't know, the city outside moving toward evening without you.

⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡

It's been nine days. You counted, though you won't admit that to anyone, not even to yourself in the quiet of your apartment where the number sits like something shameful. You told yourself you were giving it a week to make sure the repair held, that you weren't being the kind of customer who hovers, who doubts. But you knew the truth on day three, when you took a long route home just to pass the street, when you slowed at the intersection and saw the garage door closed, the neon OPEN sign unlit, and felt something like disappointment settle in your chest.

You told yourself the noise was back on day five. It wasn't, not really, but you convinced yourself you heard something, a faint catch in the steering that hadn't been there before, or had always been there, or you were imagining. You rode anyway, to work, to the store, to your friend's apartment in Echo Park where you drank cheap wine on her fire escape and didn't mention the mechanic once, not his name, not his shop, not the way he'd looked at you like he was waiting for you to reveal your real reason for being there.

Day six you almost went. You got dressed to go, stood in front of your bathroom mirror with your keys in your hand, and realized you had no pretext. The bike ran fine. Better than fine, smoother than it had in months, the steering clean and responsive in a way that made you think he hadn't just fixed the problem but improved something, tuned something you hadn't asked for. You put the keys down. You told yourself you were being ridiculous.

But now it's day nine, and you're pulling up to the same narrow storefront, and the gritty sound is real this time, unmistakable, a grinding that matches the rhythm of your heartbeat as you kill the engine. You're not sure if you're relieved or terrified that you have a legitimate reason to be here.

The garage door is open. The radio is playing, louder than before, something with drums that you can feel in your sternum before you even step inside. He's in the same spot, bent over the same workbench, but he looks up before you can announce yourself, like he heard you over the music, or like he's been listening for the sound of your bike.

"Back," he says. Not a question.

"The noise," you say, and your voice sounds wrong, too high, defensive. "It's back."

He straightens up, wipes his hands on the same rag, though you can't tell if it's the same rag from nine days ago or if he has a stack of them, all equally useless. He doesn't move toward you right away. He looks at your bike, then at you, and you feel the weight of his attention like a hand on your throat.

"Riding it hard?"

"No. Normal."

"Normal for you."

"Yes."

He crosses the space between you, and you smell him before he touches the bike, oil and soap and something underneath that might be sweat, the particular salt of a body that's been working in heat. He's wearing a different shirt, you notice, black this time - the sleeves pushed up to the same place on his forearms, revealing his tattoos. The scar through his eyebrow catches the light when he angles his head to look at your front fork.

"Same sound?"

"Yeah. I think. It sounds the same."

"You think."

"It sounds the same," you repeat, firmer, and he makes that small sound again, not quite agreement, something that might be amusement or might be skepticism. He straddles the bike the way he did before, thighs spreading, and you watch the fabric of his jeans pull tight across his hips. He works the handlebars back and forth, listening, and you listen too, but all you can hear is the radio and your own breathing and the faint scrape of his boots on the concrete.

"I don't hear it," he says.

"It's there. It was there this morning."

He looks up at you, his hands still on the grips, his body still angled over your machine. "This morning."

"On my way to work."

"Where's work?"

You tell him, the name of the street, the building, and you see him place it mentally, the map of the city he carries in his head. He nods, once, like the information confirms something for him.

"Road's rough there. Potholes."

"Not that rough."

"Could've knocked something loose."

"It was fine when you fixed it."

He stands up, steps back from the bike, and you feel the loss of him like a physical thing, the space where his body was suddenly empty and cold. "I can look," he says. "But I'm not finding what I can't hear."

You nod, though you want to argue, want to insist, want to make him understand that you heard it, that you're not making this up, that you're not here for reasons you can't name. He moves to his tool chest, opens a drawer with a sound of metal on metal, and you watch him select something, a wrench or a driver, you're still learning the names.

"Nine days," he says, not looking at you.

"What?"

"Nine days. Most people, something comes back, they're here the next day. Suspicious, angry. You waited nine days."

"I was busy."

"Busy," he repeats, and now you know he's mocking you, the same word you used before, the same excuse. He comes back to the bike and crouches down, his face level with the front wheel, and you see the shift of muscle in his back, the way his shirt pulls up slightly from his jeans, a strip of skin you shouldn't be looking at.

"Or maybe," he says, his voice coming from somewhere near the axle, "you wanted to make sure it was real. The noise. Before you brought it back."

Your mouth goes dry. You open it to deny it, to laugh, to say something about customer service and warranty work, but nothing comes out. He stays crouched, his hands moving over the bike with a familiarity that makes you jealous, and you realize you're holding your breath.

He stands up suddenly, too close, and you step back, your shoulder blades hitting the edge of his workbench. He doesn't move away. He looks at you with those dark eyes, the scar bisecting his eyebrow, and you see something there you didn't see before, a heat that matches the heat in your own chest.

"Or maybe," he says, softer now, almost gentle, "you just wanted to see if I'd remember you."

You should say something. You should step away, should reassert the distance between customer and mechanic, between stranger and stranger. But his hand is on the bench beside your hip, his body angled to trap you without touching you, and you can smell him again, closer now, the oil and the salt and something else, something clean underneath, soap or shampoo or the faint chemical bite of the shop itself.

"I remembered," you say, and your voice is barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Your name. Jungkook."

Something shifts in his face, the almost-smile becoming real, small and sharp and directed at you alone. "You looked it up?"

"No. I just... remembered."

He leans in, not much, just enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the heat radiating from his skin after hours of work. "Most people don't," he says. "Remember. They come in, they pay, they forget my face before they're out the door."

"I'm not most people."

"No," he agrees. "You're not."

The radio moves to a different song, slower, something with a bass line that vibrates in your chest. You realize your hands are gripping the edge of the bench behind you, white-knuckled, and you force them to relax. He notices, his eyes flicking down, and when he looks back up there's a question in his face, or permission, or both.

"You want me to find the noise?" he asks.

"I want you to find it."

"Even if it's not there?"

"Especially if it's not there."

He holds your gaze for a long moment, and you see him decide something, see the shift in his shoulders as he steps back, puts space between you that feels like a wound. He turns back to the bike, but the energy has changed, charged, and you know he felt it too, the thing that passed between you, the acknowledgment that this is no longer about the machine.

"Hour," he says, the same promise as before. "Maybe less, if I'm not being careful."

"Be careful," you say, and you don't mean the bike.

He looks back at you, and this time the smile is wider, knowing, and you feel it in your stomach, low and hot. "Careful," he repeats. "That's not what I thought you wanted."

You don't answer. You don't have to. He goes back to work, but differently now, his movements slower, more deliberate, and you watch him the way you did before, but without the pretense of casual interest. You watch the flex of his hands, the shift of his weight, the way he looks up at you every few minutes like he's checking to make sure you're still there, still watching, still wanting.

The sun moves across the floor, the same orange light, the same dust made beautiful. You don't sit in the chair. You don't look at your phone. You stand where you are, pressed against his workbench, and you wait for him to find what you're both pretending is broken, or to admit that some things can't be fixed with tools, that some noises only stop when you stop listening for them, when you let yourself hear something else instead.

He works for twenty minutes, maybe thirty, and the shop grows darker as the sun sets, the radio playing songs you don't know, songs that feel like they belong to this moment, to the two of you alone in this space with the door open to the cooling evening. He stands up finally, wipes his hands on the rag, and comes toward you, and you see in his face that he hasn't found anything, that he knew he wouldn't, that this was always going to end with the two of you standing too close, breathing the same air, waiting to see who moves first.

"Couldn't find it," he says.

"It was there."

"Maybe." He stops in front of you, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "Or maybe you just wanted to come back."

"Maybe."

"You could've said."

"So could you."

He laughs, a short sound, surprised. "What was I supposed to say? Hey, customer with the mysterious bike problem, you free for dinner?"

"Something like that."

"I'm not good at that. Asking."

"I noticed."

"But I'm good at other things."

You feel your pulse in your throat, your wrists, everywhere. "Yeah?"

"Finding problems," he says, but his voice is low, intimate, and you know he doesn't mean the bike. "Fixing things. Being patient. Waiting for people to figure out what they want."

"And if they already know?"

He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, warm and faintly metallic. "Then they should say."

"I want-" you start, but he interrupts you, not with words, with his hand on your jaw, his thumb pressing against your cheekbone, and you stop breathing entirely.

"Not here," he says. "Not like this. You come back tomorrow. Come back when the shop is closed, when there's no pretending, when you can say what you want without an audience."

"Tomorrow," you repeat, and it sounds like a promise, like a threat, like the only word you know how to say.

He steps back, releases you, and you feel the air rush in where his hand was, cold and empty. He goes to the bench, writes something on a scrap of paper, and holds it out to you. An address, you realize, not the shop, a street you don't recognize in a neighborhood you don't know.

"Seven," he says. "Or don't come. Your choice."

You take the paper. You fold it into your pocket without looking at it again. You know you won't lose it, won't forget, won't convince yourself this didn't happen. You meet his eyes, and you see the uncertainty there, the vulnerability he didn't mean to show you, and it makes you brave.

"I'll be there," you say.

He nods, once, and turns back to your bike, rolling it off the stand, checking the tire pressure with a gauge you didn't see him pick up. "Ride careful," he says, not looking at you. "That noise you heard. Might be nothing. Might be something important. Hard to tell from the outside."

You understand what he's telling you. You understand that he's talking about himself, about the two of you, about the risk of wanting something you're not sure you can name. You swing your leg over the seat, start the engine, feel the familiar vibration between your thighs that will never feel the same now that you've imagined his hands there, his weight, his mouth.

You pull away from the shop without looking back, but you feel him watching you go, feel his eyes on your back until you turn the corner and lose him in the gathering dark. The address is burning in your pocket. The noise, you realize, is gone, has been gone since you arrived, was probably never there at all. You don't care. You'll be back tomorrow. You'll be back every day, if that's what it takes, until there's no pretense left, until he touches you for real, until the only gritty sound is the two of you breathing together in the dark.

⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡

You don't go to the address.

Not because you're scared. Because you don't chase. Because he gave you his time and his location and the expectation that you'd show, grateful, eager, and something in you resists that shape, that story. You want him, but you want him on different terms.

So you go to the beach. It's Saturday, late afternoon, the light turning gold and pink, and you tell yourself it's for the air, the space, the cold shock of the Pacific. You don't admit that you chose this beach because it's close to the neighborhood he mentioned.

You park. You walk down in your boots because you didn't plan this, and you stand at the waterline watching the last surfers. You're not thinking about him. You're not.

Then you see him.

Walking up from the water with a board under his arm, no wetsuit, just board shorts and a rash guard, and you know the way he moves before you see his face. The economy of it. The way he carries his weight like he owns whatever ground he's standing on.

He stops when he sees you. Twenty feet away, water dripping from his hair, and you watch him process it, the coincidence that isn't one. Something shifts in his face. Not tenderness. Something sharper.

"You didn't come," he says.

"Did you want me to?"

"Seven o'clock. I waited."

"Sounds like you wanted me to."

He sets down his board and walks toward you with that same unhurried pace. Stops close. Too close. Close enough that you can smell the salt on him, the ocean, the faint residue of wax on his skin.

"You're here now," he says.

"Coincidence."

"Bullshit."

You smile. "You don't believe in coincidence?"

"I believe in you looking up my neighborhood and picking the closest beach." He tilts his head, studying you. "I believe in you wanting to run into me without admitting you were looking."

"And if I was?"

"Then you should've just come to the shop." He steps closer, close enough that you have to tilt your head back. "Saved yourself the trouble."

"Where's the fun in that?"

He laughs, short and surprised. "Fun. That's what this is?"

"Isn't it?"

He steps closer still, close enough that his chest almost brushes yours. "I thought you were scared," he says, soft, mocking. "Too much wanting. Too dangerous."

"I changed my mind."

"Or you just like the chase better when you think you're the one doing it."

You feel the heat of him, the sun-warmed skin, the cold water still evaporating off his shoulders. "You're wet," you say.

"Ocean does that."

"Cold?"

"Warm enough."

"You should dry off."

He raises an eyebrow, the scar catching the last light. "You offering to help?"

"I'm offering to watch."

He stares at you for a long moment. Then he reaches down, grabs the bottom of his rash guard, and pulls it over his head in one motion.

You watch. You don't pretend not to. His chest is tan, defined, the muscle of someone who works with his body. There's a smattering of hair, darker than on his head, trailing down to his shorts, and you follow it with your eyes.

"Better?" he asks.

"Getting there."

He drops the shirt on his board. Stands there in nothing but the shorts, the wind picking up, cold against his wet skin, and you see the goosebumps rise on his arms and you want to warm them, want to put your mouth on his shoulder and feel him shiver.

"You always this forward?" he asks.

"Only when I know what I want."

"And what do you want?"

You look at him, at the mouth that has said your name zero times, at the hands that fixed your bike with a familiarity you envied. "I want you to stop pretending you don't know why I'm here."

"And why are you here?"

"Same reason you waited at seven." You step closer, close enough that your mouth is near his ear. "Same reason you're standing there freezing and hard and waiting for me to notice."

Something flickers in his eyes. "Hard," he repeats.

"Aren't you?"

He doesn't answer. He steps toward you, close again, and his hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb pressing against your cheekbone, rough with calluses. "You're playing a game," he says.

"So are you."

"What's the prize?"

You lean in, your mouth near his ear. "Whoever breaks first."

His hand tightens, not painful, just present. "And if I don't break?"

"Then you win." You pull back, meet his eyes. "But you don't get to fuck me."

He stares at you. Then he laughs, sharp and surprised. "You're cold," he says.

"I'm fine."

"You're shivering."

"It's the wind."

"Or it's me."

"Could be."

His other hand comes up, rests on your waist, heavy through your jacket. "I could warm you up," he says.

"Could you?"

"Find somewhere private. Somewhere with heat." He leans in, his breath warm against your cold skin. "See how long you last before you're begging."

You pull back, meet his eyes, and you see the challenge there. You smile, slow and deliberate, and you put your hand on his chest, feel the muscle jump under your palm. "You think I'd beg?"

"I think you'd love it."

"And if I don't?"

He shrugs, the motion shifting the muscle under your hand. "Then I lose. But at least I'd have you naked."

You stare at him. He stares back, patient, waiting for you to decide, to break, to give him the satisfaction. The wind picks up, colder now, and you feel your nipples harden against your jacket, and you know he notices, know his eyes flick down and back up, know he's cataloging every reaction.

"Not tonight," you say.

He raises an eyebrow. "No?"

"I don't fuck on first dates."

"This a date?"

"Isn't it?"

He laughs again, softer this time. "Next time, then."

"Next time?"

"You come to the shop. Real problem this time, no pretending." He steps back, releases you, and you feel the cold rush in where his hands were. "I'll fix it. Then I'll fix you."

"Big talk."

"I'll back it up."

He grabs his shirt, his board, and walks toward the parking lot without looking back. You watch him go, the shape of him in the dying light, and you feel the wanting like a physical thing, the game unresolved, the prize still in play.

⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡

It's been six days. You know because you counted, not because you care, not because you keep replaying the beach in your head, the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he walked away like he knew you'd follow.

You don't follow. You don't go to the shop. You ride your bike and you feel the wanting every time you grip the handlebars, every time you pass a street that might lead to his neighborhood, and you resist, you resist, you resist.

But now there's a noise.

Not the old noise, the one you invented. Something new. A whine in the engine that climbs with the RPMs, a vibration you can feel in your thighs that wasn't there before, that shouldn't be there, that makes you think of metal grinding against metal, of something about to give.

You ignore it for a day. You tell yourself it's nothing, paranoia, your mind playing tricks because you want an excuse. But it gets worse, louder, and by the second morning you know you're not making this up, know it in the way the bike feels wrong beneath you, the way it resists when you lean into turns.

You pull up to the shop at four in the afternoon, the garage door open, the radio playing something with bass you can feel in your chest. He's in the back, bent over a workbench, and he looks up when you kill the engine, and you see him register you, the bike, the expression on your face.

"Back," he says. Not a question.

"There's a noise."

"Different noise?"

"Different noise."

He wipes his hands on a rag and walks toward you, and you watch him move, the same economy, the same certainty, and you feel it in your stomach, the wanting you thought you'd finished with.

He stops by your bike, doesn't touch it yet, looks at you instead. "Six days," he says.

"Yeah."

"No beach."

"You didn't invite me."

He smiles, small and sharp. "Didn't want to seem eager."

"And now?"

He looks at your bike, then back at you. "Now you came to me."

"With a real problem this time."

"That so?"

"Listen," you say, and you start the engine, let it idle, and you see him hear it, the whine, the vibration, his head tilting.

He kills the engine. He straddles the bike, thighs spreading, and you watch him work the throttle, listening, feeling, and you feel the absurdity of it, the way your body responds to him on your machine.

"Engine mount," he says finally. "Loose. Could've gone another week, maybe two. Then real damage."

"So I came in time."

"You came." He looks up at you, and you see something in his eyes, heat and amusement. "Lucky for you I'm not busy."

"Lucky for me."

He stands up, steps close, too close, the bike between you. "Hour to fix," he says. "Maybe less if I rush."

"Don't rush."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I want to watch," you say. "Like before."

"That so?"

"That so."

He holds your gaze. Then he smiles, the real one, hungry. "Chair's still there," he says. "Or you can stand. Your choice."

You stay standing. He goes back to your bike, selects tools, and you watch his forearms flex, remember those hands on your jaw, the roughness of his calluses.

"Six days," he says, not looking up.

"Yeah."

"You think about me?"

"Do you want me to say yes?"

"I want you to say whatever's true."

"Yes," you say. "I thought about you."

"Doing what?"

"Riding my bike. Working. Sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Not much."

He looks up, and you see the satisfaction in his face, male and uncomplicated. "Me neither," he says.

"That so?"

"That so." He goes back to the bike, tightening something. "Kept thinking about your mouth," he says, casual. "The way you looked at me when I took my shirt off. Like you wanted to bite."

"I wanted to do more than bite."

He pauses, the wrench still in his hand. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He stands up, steps around the bike, close enough that you can smell him, oil and soap and the faint salt still in his hair. "I could stop working," he says. "Lock the door. Take you in the back."

"And my bike?"

"Fuck your bike."

You laugh, surprised. "You said an hour."

"I said maybe less." He steps closer, his hand coming to your waist. "I could make you wait. Make you watch me work. See how desperate you get."

"And if I'm not desperate?"

He smiles, sharp. "Then I'll have to try harder."

He goes back to the bike, and you watch him work, and the minutes stretch, and you feel the wanting build like a physical thing. At five thirty, he stands up. Rolls the bike off the stand, tests the throttle. The engine sounds clean, smooth, the noise gone.

"Done," he says.

"That fast?"

"That fast." He looks at you, the heat banked but present. "You pay at the counter. Cash or card."

"That's it?"

"That's the job."

You stare at him. He stares back, patient, waiting for you to make the move. You feel the urge to step forward, to put your hands on him, to make him stop pretending.

But you don't. You reach for your wallet, pull out cash. You hand it to him, and his fingers brush yours, deliberate, and you feel the spark of it.

"Receipt?" he asks.

"Keep it."

He folds the bills, puts them in his pocket, and he walks toward the big garage door, and you think he's going to open it, let you leave. But he stops. He pulls the door down, the metal screeching, and the shop goes dim.

He turns back to you. "Door's locked," he says. "Owner's strict, but he makes exceptions."

"Exceptions?"

"For customers who can't wait."

You feel your pulse everywhere. "And if I can wait?"

He smiles, the game cracking open. "Then you wait," he says. "But I'm closing in fifteen minutes either way. Your choice."

You look at him, the grease on his hands, the sweat on his neck. "I can wait," you say.

He nods, once, and he walks back to his workbench, picks up a tool, keeps working on something that doesn't need working on. You watch him, and the minutes stretch, and you feel the wanting build like the noise in your engine, like something about to break.

At six, he puts down the tool. Turns off the radio. The silence is heavy, expectant, and he looks at you across the dim shop.

He pulls the door down, metal screeching, and the shop goes dim except for the single bulb over his workbench and the red glow of the exit sign. He turns back to you, and you see the shift in him, the game dissolving into something hungrier, more direct.

"Still here," he says.

"Still here."

He crosses the space between you in three strides, and his hands are on your jaw, his mouth on yours, rough and claiming. You taste salt on his lips, the ocean still on his skin, and you arch into him, wanting more, wanting everything he's been holding back.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "Take this off," he says, tugging at your jacket.

You shrug out of it, let it fall to the concrete floor. He watches you, his eyes dark, and you feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. He reaches out, runs his hands down your sides, over your shirt, and you shiver under the roughness of his palms, the calluses catching on the fabric.

"And this," he says, fingers finding the hem of your shirt.

You lift your arms, let him pull it over your head. The air is cool against your skin, and you feel your nipples harden, feel him notice, his eyes dropping to your chest and staying there.

"Fuck," he breathes, and there's reverence in it, hunger, the sound of a man seeing something he's been imagining. He reaches out, cups you through your bra, and you gasp at the pressure, the heat of his palms through the thin fabric.

"These," he says, squeezing, testing the weight of you in his hands. "I've been thinking about these."

"Yeah?"

"Every night since you walked into my shop." He thumbs over your nipples, and you feel the jolt of it straight to your core, your knees weakening. "Wondering what color they are. How they'd feel in my mouth."

He doesn't wait for an answer. He reaches behind you, unclasps your bra with practiced efficiency, and pulls it off, drops it on top of your jacket. He looks at you, really looks, and you see him swallow, see the muscle in his jaw jump.

"Perfect," he says, and then his hands are on you, skin to skin, and you moan at the contact, the roughness of his palms, the grease that's still on his fingers from working. He doesn't care, or he likes it, you can't tell, because he's squeezing, kneading, spreading his fingers to capture as much of you as he can.

"Look at you," he murmurs, and he pushes your breasts together, creates cleavage with his palms, and you look down, see the smear of grease he's leaving on your skin, the dark marks of his work against your pale skin. "Marked you already."

"More," you breathe, and he smiles, sharp and knowing.

He lowers his head, takes one nipple into his mouth, and you cry out at the wet heat of it, the way he sucks, the way his tongue circles and flicks. He switches to the other, gives it the same attention, and you're holding his head, your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting him to devour you.

He pulls back, looks up at you with dark eyes, his mouth wet. "You like that?"

"You know I do."

"Good." He stands up, and before you can protest, he's lifting you, his hands under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist, feel the hard line of him through his jeans, through your own. "We're not done."

He carries you to your bike, still sitting on the stand where he left it, and he sets you down on the seat, your back against the tank. He positions you, spreads your legs wide around the machine, and you feel the leather of the seat against your bare skin, the vibration of the engine still warm beneath you.

"Stay there," he commands, and you do, watching as he walks around to the front of the bike, to the handlebars, to the mirrors.

He adjusts them, angles them until he can see you, and you realize what he's doing, understand the view he has from where he stands. He looks at you in the mirror, meets your eyes, and you see the satisfaction in his face.

"Look," he says. "Don't look at me. Look at yourself."

You turn your head, look into the mirror, and you see yourself, naked from the waist up, your breasts heavy and marked with his grease, your nipples hard and wet from his mouth. You look wrecked already, and he's barely started.

He steps behind you, out of sight, and you feel his hands on your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then they're on your breasts again, lifting, squeezing, and you watch in the mirror, watch him play with you, watch your own face as he pinches your nipples, rolls them between his fingers.

"Fuck," you whisper, and you see yourself say it, see your mouth open, your eyes half-closed.

"Watch," he commands, his voice low in your ear, and you do, you watch his hands work you, watch him push your breasts together, create cleavage that he then fucks with his fingers, sliding them between, the motion you want from him elsewhere. "You see how good you look? How fucking pretty you are like this?"

"Please," you breathe, not sure what you're asking for, just knowing you need more.

"Please what?"

"Touch me. Actually touch me."

"I am touching you." He pinches your nipples hard, and you cry out, arch your back, push yourself into his hands. "I'm touching you exactly how I want to. And you're going to watch. You're going to see what I see when I look at you."

He keeps working you, his hands rough and sure, and you watch in the mirror, mesmerized by the sight of yourself, by the way you respond to him, the way your body moves without your permission. He's hard against your back, you can feel him, and you grind against him, wanting friction, wanting more.

"Greedy," he murmurs, but he doesn't stop you, just keeps playing with your breasts, his fingers slick now with more than grease, with your own arousal, with the wetness he's drawing from you just from this.

"Need you," you gasp, and you feel him smile against your neck, feel his teeth graze your shoulder.

"You'll get me," he says. "When I'm ready. When I've had my fill of looking at you like this."

He keeps you there, straddling your own bike, watching in the mirror as he plays with your tits, marks you with his grease, makes you watch yourself come apart just from his hands on your breasts. 

He holds you through the aftershocks, his hands still cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples until you whimper and push at his wrists. He laughs, low and satisfied, and finally releases you, but only to slide his hands down your sides, grip your hips, hold you steady on the bike.

"Look at you," he murmurs against your neck, and you feel his breath, hot and damp. "Already coming apart and I haven't even started."

"You started," you manage, your voice wrecked.

He doesn't answer. He presses his mouth to your throat, open and wet, and you feel his teeth, the scrape of his stubble, and then he's sucking, hard, marking you where your pulse beats frantic beneath the skin. You gasp, arching into it, offering yourself to his mouth, and he takes it, moves lower, finds the hollow above your collarbone and leaves another bruise there, dark and claiming.

"Everyone's going to know," he says between presses of his lips, between bites that make you shiver and clutch at his forearms. "Everyone's going to see what I did to you."

"Good," you breathe, and he laughs again, pleased, and keeps working down your shoulder, your chest, back up to your throat where he sucks another mark, higher this time, visible above any shirt you own.

He spends time on your breasts again, not gentle now, sucking your nipples until they're swollen and aching, leaving hickies in the soft skin above, below, branding you with his mouth everywhere he can reach. You watch in the mirror, can't stop watching, your body marked and mottled with him, his dark hair against your pale skin, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise.

When he finally lifts his head, your chest is a map of him, grease and spit and bite marks, and he looks at his work with dark, satisfied eyes.

"Up," he commands, and his hands are under your arms, lifting you off the bike like you weigh nothing.

Your legs are shaky, unsteady, and he holds you until you find your balance, then steps back. He looks at you, at the mess he's made of you, and his jaw tightens, his hand going to the front of his jeans to adjust himself, the outline of him straining against the denim.

"Strip," he says.

You stare at him. "You first."

He shakes his head, slow, deliberate. "You. I want to look at you. I want to see what I've been imagining."

You hold his gaze for a long moment, the challenge in it, the power he's taking and you're giving. Then you reach for the button of your own jeans, pop it open, slide the zipper down. You push them over your hips, let them fall, step out of them and your boots together, standing there in nothing but your underwear, your skin flushed and marked and his.

"All of it," he says, his voice rough.

You hook your thumbs in your waistband, pull your panties down, let them fall. You're naked in his shop, surrounded by tools and grease and the smell of gasoline, and you feel more exposed than you ever have, more seen.

He looks at you, his eyes traveling down your body like a touch, lingering on your breasts, your stomach, lower. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and you see his hands twitch at his sides, the restraint costing him.

"Beautiful," he says, and the word sounds like worship, like prayer. "Fucking beautiful."

He steps toward you, and you think he's going to touch you, finally, but he doesn't. He drops to his knees in front of you, still fully dressed, his jeans dark with oil in places, his shirt hanging loose, and he looks up at you from below, and the angle of it, the submission in his posture while his eyes stay dominant and hungry, makes your breath catch.

He puts his hands on your hips, gentle now, reverent, and he presses his face to your stomach, inhales, groans like you're something sacred. He kisses you there, soft, open-mouthed, and you feel his stubble against your skin, the heat of his breath, and you sway, your hands finding his hair, holding on.

"Stay standing," he murmurs against your hip, and then he's moving lower, kissing down your pelvis, your thigh, skipping where you want him most, teasing, building. He nudges your legs apart, and you widen your stance, exposed and vulnerable and trusting him to hold you up.

He looks up at you again, his eyes dark and endless, and he kisses the inside of your thigh, high, close enough that you feel his breath, feel the promise of it. "Going to worship you," he says, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Going to take my time. Going to make you forget your name."

He lowers his mouth finally, licks a slow stripe through you, and your head falls back, your hands tightening in his hair, and he groans against you, the sound of a man who has found his religion, who plans to pray at your altar until you're both ruined for anything else.

He groans against you, the vibration traveling through your core, and you feel his hands grip your thighs, spread you wider. He lifts one of your legs, guides your foot onto the bike's foot peg, opening you completely to him, and you balance there, one leg braced high, the other trembling on the concrete floor, exposed and vulnerable and his.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his breath hot against your most sensitive skin, and you look down, see him kneeling between your thighs, his dark hair messy from your hands, his eyes fixed on you with single-minded hunger. "Perfect. Fucking perfect."

He dives back in, and this time there's no teasing, no building. His tongue finds your clit, circles it, sucks it between his lips, and you cry out, your hips bucking, but he holds you steady, his hands iron on your thighs, controlling your movement, your pleasure, everything.

He eats you like he's starving, like he's been waiting for this, for you, his mouth relentless, his tongue working you in patterns that make your vision blur. You feel the wetness of him, the roughness of his stubble, the sheer filthy intimacy of his face buried between your legs, and you grip his hair harder, pulling, guiding, desperate for more.

Then his hand moves, his fingers finding your entrance, and he slides one inside you, slow and thick, while his tongue keeps working your clit, and you moan, long and broken, your leg on the bike shaking with the effort of holding yourself up.

"Good?" he asks against you, the word muffled, and you can only nod, gasping, your head thrown back.

He adds another finger, stretching you, and starts to fuck you with them, hard and deep, curling to find the spot that makes you see stars, while his mouth never stops, never relents. The combination of it, the wet heat of his tongue, the thick pressure of his fingers, the way he's holding you open, using you, worshipping you with his mouth and his hands, builds you fast, too fast, your orgasm gathering like a storm at your center.

You feel it coming, the edge approaching, your body tensing, your breath hitching, and you tug at his hair, warn him, "I'm going to-"

He pulls back instantly, his fingers stilling inside you, his mouth leaving you, and you cry out at the loss, at the sudden emptiness, your hips chasing his face, desperate for the friction, the pressure, anything.

"Not yet," he says, his voice rough, his chin wet with you, his eyes dark and wild. "Not until I say."

"Please," you beg, shameless, your body throbbing, your leg shaking on the bike. "Please, I need-"

"I know what you need." He leans in, presses a soft, cruel kiss to your inner thigh, his fingers still buried inside you, motionless, keeping you full but unsatisfied. "And you're going to wait for it."

He waits until your breathing slows, until the edge recedes, just barely, and then he starts again. His mouth returns to your clit, softer now, teasing, and his fingers begin to move, slow and deliberate, dragging against your walls, finding every sensitive spot, building you back up with agonizing patience.

You moan, your hands finding your own breasts, pinching your nipples, trying to give yourself what he's denying you, and he looks up, sees you touching yourself, and his eyes darken, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"That's it," he murmurs against you, the vibration making you shiver. "Touch yourself. Show me what you like."

You roll your nipples between your fingers, arch your back, and he watches you, his tongue working you in slow, devastating circles, his fingers fucking you harder now, deeper, and you feel the edge approaching again, faster this time, your body desperate for the release he's withholding.

"Please," you gasp, "please, let me, I can't-"

He pulls back again, his fingers stilling, his mouth leaving you, and you sob, actual tears pricking your eyes, your body on fire, your core aching with unfulfilled need.

"Not yet," he repeats, and his voice is gentler now, almost tender, but the command is absolute. "One more time. Let me feel you get there again. Let me taste how desperate you are."

He waits, kissing your thighs, your hips, your stomach, his fingers still inside you, stretching you, reminding you of what he can give you, what he's choosing to withhold. When your breathing slows, when the edge retreats just enough, he starts again.

This time he's merciless, his tongue flicking your clit in rapid, relentless strokes, his fingers fucking you hard and fast, curling to press against your g-spot with every thrust, and you scream, your voice echoing off the concrete walls, your body trembling, your vision going white at the edges.

You feel it building, unstoppable this time, your orgasm inevitable, your body beyond his control, beyond your own, and you warn him, "I'm going to come, I can't stop, please-"

He pulls back a third time, his fingers withdrawing completely, his mouth leaving you, and you collapse against the bike, sobbing, your body shaking, your core throbbing with denied pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

"Please," you whimper, broken, "please, I need you, please-"

He stands up, finally, his face wet with you, his eyes wild, and he looks at you, spread and wrecked and his, and he smiles, slow and predatory and full of promise.

"Now," he says, "you're ready for me."

You push yourself off the bike, your legs still shaking, and you reach for him, your hands finding the hem of his shirt, yanking it up. He lets you, raises his arms, and you pull it over his head, revealing his chest, his stomach, the defined muscle of his shoulders. You toss it aside and your hands are on him immediately, greedy, mapping the heat of his skin, the faint scars, the dark hair trailing down to his jeans.

He watches you, patient now, letting you take, and you unbutton his jeans, pull the zipper down, and push them over his hips, his briefs with them, and he steps out, kicks them aside, and he's naked in front of you, hard and heavy and perfect.

You reach for him, wrap your hand around his length, and he hisses, his head falling back, his hips bucking into your touch. He's hot, thick, and you stroke him once, twice, watching his face, the way his jaw tightens, the way his eyes close.

Then his hand is in your hair, gripping tight, pulling your head back, and you gasp, your mouth opening, and he spits into it, hot and filthy and claiming, and you moan, swallowing, tasting him, and he groans, watching you, his grip in your hair unforgiving.

"Fuck," he breathes, and he pulls you toward him, his mouth crashing into yours, his tongue sweeping in, tasting himself, tasting you, and you melt against him, your bodies pressed together, skin to skin, his hardness trapped between your stomachs.

He pulls back, his hand still fisted in your hair, and he walks you backward, guiding you, and you stumble, follow, your legs weak, your body throbbing with need. He backs you up to the workbench, the same one where you watched him work, where you imagined his hands on you, and he lifts you onto it, the metal cold against your bare skin, and spreads your legs, steps between them.

He looks at you, spread out on his workbench, naked and marked and his, and he groans, his hand finding himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes dark and endless.

"Condom," he manages, and he reaches past you, fumbles in a drawer, pulls one out, tears it open with his teeth. You watch him roll it on, your breath shallow, your body aching, and then he's there, pressing against your entrance, and he meets your eyes.

"Look at me," he commands, and you do, and he pushes into you, slow and thick and perfect, and you cry out, your head falling back, but his hand is in your hair again, pulling you back, forcing your eyes to his.

"Look at me," he repeats, and you do, you watch him as he fills you, as he bottoms out, as he holds there, throbbing inside you, and you feel complete, stretched, owned.

He starts to move, slow at first, deep strokes that drag against every sensitive spot, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pull him closer, and he groans, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath hot and fast.

"So tight," he murmurs, "so fucking perfect," and he speeds up, his hips snapping, the workbench creaking beneath you, and you moan, your nails digging into his back, your body climbing again, the denied orgasms making you sensitive, desperate.

He fucks you like that, missionary on his workbench, his eyes locked on yours, his hand still in your hair, controlling you, using you, and you feel it building again, inevitable, and you beg him, "Please, please, let me come, I can't-"

"Not yet," he grits out, his jaw tight, his rhythm faltering, and he pulls out, leaves you empty and aching, and you sob, but he's already turning you, flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back, and you scramble onto your knees, your cheek pressed to the cold metal, your hands gripping the far edge.

He enters you from behind, deep and hard, and you scream, your back arching, and he groans, his hands on your hips, gripping tight, and he starts to fuck you, brutal and relentless, the sound of skin on skin filling the shop, your moans and his grunts and the creak of the bench.

He reaches around, finds your clit, rubs it in rough, desperate circles, and you cry out, your body shaking, your orgasm looming, and he feels it, feels you tightening around him, and he pulls his hand away, slows his strokes, denies you again.

"Please," you whimper, your voice broken, "please, please, I need to come, please-"

He pulls out, and you sob, but he's already moving, pulling you off the bench, turning you around, and he lifts you, his hands under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and he presses you against the wall, the concrete cold against your back, and he enters you again, holding you up, your weight on him, and you feel him deep, so deep, hitting places he hadn't before.

He fucks you against the wall, his hands gripping your ass, his mouth on your neck, your breasts, leaving more marks, and you hold on, your nails in his shoulders, your head thrown back, and you feel it building, unstoppable, your body beyond his control, beyond your own.

"Now," he growls against your ear, "come for me now," and he reaches between you, finds your clit, rubs it hard and fast, and you explode, your orgasm crashing through you, your scream echoing off the walls, your body convulsing around him, and he keeps fucking you, keeps rubbing you, drawing it out, making you come and come until you're sobbing, limp against him.

He slows, still hard inside you, his breath ragged, his forehead pressed to yours. You feel him throbbing, feel how close he is, how he's holding back, and you tighten around him, wanting to draw it out, wanting to feel him lose control.

But he pulls out, sets you down, your legs barely holding you, and you stumble, catch yourself on the workbench, and he looks at you, dark and wild and commanding.

"On your knees," he says, his voice rough.

You drop, the concrete hard against your knees, and you look up at him, his length inches from your face, heavy and wet and perfect. You reach for him, want to taste him, want to take him into your mouth and finish him there, but he catches your wrist, stops you, his grip firm.

You look up, confused, desperate, and he smiles, slow and cruel and full of promise.

"Maybe next time, princess," he says, and he takes himself in hand, strokes once, twice, his eyes locked on yours, on your face, on your body marked and naked and his.

He comes with a groan, his head falling back, his spend hot across your breasts, your nipples, your throat, marking you one final time, and you watch him, watch the pleasure wash over him, the way his jaw tightens, his muscles clench.

He looks down at you, at his mess on your skin, and he smiles, satisfied, sated, already planning.

"Next time," he repeats, and you know there will be one.

You don't even need to break your bike.

“Missed you,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips between kisses. Kneeling on the floor as you sit on the couch. “God, you have no idea. Every night. Every single night.”

“I missed you more,” you purred , as his mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. His teeth graze your skin, and a bolt of pure desire shoots straight down your spine, pooling low in your belly. The secret you’re keeping there seems to pulse in time with your quickening heartbeat.

His hands slide lower, gripping the hem of your top, and he starts to pull it up. You lift your arms willingly, letting him strip the top off you. The cool air of the room kisses your skin, raising goosebumps. His heated gaze travels over you, clad only on your chest, not wearing a bra. His eyes are dark, appreciative, worshipful.

“So beautiful,” he says, his voice rough. “My beautiful girl.”

He leans in to kiss the swell of your breast, lips making their way to your nipples, his tongue swirling around the hard buds, sucking them so softly, his hands going to the hem of your shorts. This is it. The moment coils tight in your stomach, a mix of nerves and fierce anticipation. You watch his face, holding your breath.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both the shorts and your underwear beneath, and in one smooth slow motion, he begins to pull them down your hips.

You lift your hips to help him, the fabric whispering over your skin. He draws them down your thighs, past your knees, his eyes following the path of his hands. Then he sees it.

His breath hitches, a sharp, audible intake that cuts through the quiet room. His hands, which were so confident and sure a second ago, go completely still, fingers curled into the fabric at your knees. His gaze is locked, utterly fixated, on the middle of your thighs.

There, nestled in the delicate, soft folds, is the surprise. A tiny, perfect, gleaming captive bead ring. The small silver hoop is elegant and delicate, the tiny bead—a smooth, polished sphere—sits snugly against your swollen flesh.

Jungkook’s jaw was on the floor, clearly shocked by the unexpected surprise, ”what!?” He said as a breathy laugh escaped him, “are you serious?” he blinked twice, staring in genuine surprise before looking back up at you.

“When did you get that?!” he asks, his voice rising with enthusiastic curiosity. He’s fully yapping now. “Oh my god. When? Why didn’t you tell me? Did it hurt? It looks like it hurt. Was it like a needle? It must have been a huge needle. Who did it? Was it clean? It looks clean. It’s so… shiny.”

He’s talking a mile a minute, his eyes darting over every detail. The tiny, perfect hoop. His hands slowly parting your folds carefully, The snug silver bead resting against your swollen flesh. The way it glints in the soft light from the floor lamp.

“It’s for you,” you finally manage to say, your voice trembling with a mix of arousal and amusement at his adorable, frantic reaction.

“For me?” He looks up, his eyes huge. “Like… a present?”

“A welcome home present, I got it three weeks ago.”

He processes this, his mouth forming a silent ‘O’. The concept seems to delight him even more. He looks back down, his head tilting the other way. “So it’s… mine? I mean, not mine mine, but like… for me to… appreciate?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes. “Yes, Jungkook. For you to appreciate.”

“Wow,” he whispers, finally reaching out. But not like before. His touch is now feather-light, incredibly tentative. He uses the very tip of his index finger to gently, so gently, boop the little silver bead. It moves the tiniest bit.

You jerk, a sharp intake of breath hissing through your teeth. The sensation is immediate and intense.

He yanks his hand back as if shocked. “Did that hurt? Was that bad?”

“No,” you whine. “No, it’s… just really sensitive.”

His eyes light up with renewed, fascinated interest. “Sensitive?” He says the word like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard. “More than before? Because of the metal? Does the metal make it colder? Or is it your body temperature? Wait, let me feel.”

This time, he doesn’t boop it. He lays the pad of his finger gently against the side of the hoop. He holds it there, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s warm,” he announces, as if reporting a major finding. “It’s your temperature. That’s so cool.”

He’s completely lost in his exploration, his previous goal of immediate sex entirely derailed by this new, shiny discovery. “Can I…?” he trails off, looking up at you for permission, his eyes sparkling.

“Can you what?”

“Can I just… look at it for a second? From different angles?” You burst out laughing, the tension and anticipation melting into pure affection for this ridiculous, silly man. “Yes, you can look.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He shifts his position, moving to kneel deeper on the floor. He gently puts his hands on your inner thighs to keep you still, He leans in, his face dangerously close.

“The craftsmanship is really good,” he says, utterly serious. “The hoop is perfectly circular. The bead is seamless. It’s not too big, not too small.” He glances up. “Was there a size chart? Did you pick the bead? What other options were there?”

“Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting his shoulder. “Are you doing a product review right now?”

He grins, unrepentant. “I’m appreciating my gift! Thoroughly!” He goes back to looking. “It suits you. It’s pretty. Edgy, but pretty.” He finally leans back, sitting on his heels, and just stares at you, his gaze taking in the whole, breathtaking picture; you spread out before him, adorned with this secret he now knows. The smile on his face is one of awestruck, possessive joy.

Then, the researcher vanishes, and the starving, devoted boyfriend comes crashing back. The playful curiosity in his eyes ignites into a hot, dark flame of desire.

“Okay,” he says, his voice dropping back into that rough, wanting register. “Appreciation time is over.”

“Oh, is it?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Now it’s…” He crawls back over you, caging you with his arms. His face is inches from yours. “Now it’s testing time.”

Before you can reply, he drops his head between your legs. But he’s not just diving in. He’s methodical. He blows a soft, cool stream of air directly over the piercing. You twitch violently.

“Sensitive,” he repeats, a note of success in his voice.

Then his tongue on you. A pointed lick that goes right over the silver ring, from bottom to top.

The effect is catastrophic. The cool metal, the hot, wet muscle, the direct pressure—it all combines into a sensation so sharp and sweet you cry out, your hips bucking off the couch.

He moans, the sound vibrating through you. “Fuck,” he groans against you. “the feedback is insane.”

He does it again, this time circling the bead with the very tip of his tongue, exploring the new topography of your body with a focus that leaves you breathless. Every tiny flick, every swirl, is magnified, wired directly into your central nervous system.

“Koo… please…” you beg, legs shaking violently, already feeling the coil of an orgasm tightening, way too soon.

“Please what?” He asks, lifting his head just enough to talk. His lips are glistening, his eyes drunk with power and pleasure. “Are you already close? But im just getting started,” He dips his head back down, this time taking the bead gently between his lips and sucking.

You see white. Your hands fly to his hair, fisting in the dark strands. “Oh, god..Right there, Don’t stop,”

He doesn’t. He eats you out with a dedicated, obsessive curiosity that was equal parts lover and mad inventor. He tests everything. How you react when he flicks the ring rapidly. How you shudder when he tugs it softly with his teeth. How you sob when he combines a slow, flat lick over it with a finger slipping inside you.

You are babbling, a complete mess beneath him, completely at the mercy of his curious mouth and your own brave, stupid, wonderful decision.

“Koo.. please! Im gonna-“

He hummed with his lips wrapped around the silver bud, the vibration traveling through the metal and straight to your core. He adds a second finger, crooking them inside you, and doubles down on the suction.

You come with a shattered scream, your body arching so hard only his arms around your thighs keep you grounded. The orgasm is like electricity, arcing from the silver focal point through your entire being. He holds you through it, gentling his motions but not stopping, drinking every drop until you collapse, limp and trembling.

He crawls up your body, wiping his chin on his shoulder. He looks utterly, devastatingly pleased with himself. And so, so turned on. His jeans are painfully tight.

“I need to feel it with my dick,” He gets his jeans and boxers down just enough, holding his hard cock against your core, and started rubbing it between your folds.

You shake from the over sensitivity, lifting your hips away, trying to escape the delicious friction. But Jungkook doesn’t let you, he holds your hips firmly down with one hand, as he strokes his cock on your glistening pussy.

“Fuck, baby. This feels insane. I can feel it on my dick.”

He throws his head back, moaning loudly,

His hand stroking his cock now is pressing on the hard length, as he moves his hips in a sensual, rhythmic pace.

He looks down, watching the head of his cock nudge against the silver bead, wet from his tongue and mixed pre-cum. He meets your eyes, his own blazing.

“Best,” he grunts, pushing inside with one deep, relentless thrust that makes you both moan, “Gift.” Another thrust. “Ever.”

He sets a punishing, grateful pace. Each thrust of his hips grinds the piercing against his pubic bone, sending fresh sparks through your oversensitive flesh. Each withdrawal makes you whimper. He’s talking, a rough, broken commentary.

“Feel it… every time… god, who knew? Who knew it would be like this?”

You can only cling to him, nails scraping down his back, as he chases his own release. The combined sensations— his length sliding in and out your sensitive tight hole, one hand groping both your bouncing tits, the other roughly rubbing your clit and the silver bead— build you back up impossibly fast towards another peak.

“Cum with me,” he demands, his rhythm faltering. ”i can feel you close, baby. Come on, let go with me”

His words, his thrusts, the overwhelming rightness of him home and inside you, his steady thumb flicking your sensitive bud, it tips you over. Your second orgasm crashes into you, softer than the first but deeper, a warm, pooling wave of bliss that squeezes around him.

With a shout that’s part laugh, part sob, he follows you, pumping into you as he finds his own release, his body shuddering above yours.

He collapses, a dead weight of satisfied exhaustion, but rolls almost immediately to pull you against his side. You’re both a sticky, sweaty, happy mess on the couch.

His hand, as if magnetized, finds its way back between your thighs. He doesn’t stroke, just rests his fingers over the piercing, holding it gently. Making you flinch away.

“So,” he says after a few minutes of heavy breathing, his voice buzzing against your temple where his lips are pressed. “The aftercare. What’s that like? Salt water soaks? Specific soap? We need to get the right stuff. I’ll order it. Did they give you a pamphlet?”

You snort-laugh into his chest, the sound muffled. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m serious!” he insists, squeezing you. “It’s a high-value asset. Requires proper maintenance.” He’s quiet for another moment, then you feel his smile against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispers, all the playfulness gone, replaced by profound sincerity. “It’s the craziest, hottest, most ‘you’ thing ever. I love it.”

A/N: i ngl i had to search everything abt the clit piercing since I’ve no idea how it’s like so if there was any bs written, ignore it 😞

Hope y’all enjoyed

Thank u for the request anon!💕

“Oh, Jungkook!” the scream echoes through the tin walls, clearly letting you know what activities your neighbor is up to.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Here we go again.”

The bed's headboard hammers against the wall, and damn, you’re about to kill your neighbor. It almost feels like you’re in the bedroom with them. They are loud as fuck. This isn’t new at all, because your cheeky neighbor, Jungkook, is all charming and brings women quite often. The problem here is that he woke you up.

you: bro, it’s fucking 2am

You know you’ll get an answer later—if he doesn’t come after two minutes—but he’s so damn annoying. In four hours, you need to be up for work, and the shitty head is ruining your night of sleep. The urge to knock at his door and cockblock him is like burning you, but as much as you’d love to do that, you still care about your friendship. Jungkook is like the only friend you've made since moving here.

A year ago, you moved into this small apartment, seeking some freedom from your parents, but quickly realized that the building's thin walls would complicate your life. Thankfully, the neighbor sharing your bedroom wall is fun to be around.

Although Jungkook sometimes has some fun with ladies he finds in very questionable bars, he’s very nice and funny. He seems to know every gossip from your neighbors and tells them all to you the second he finds out. He also loves to bother you, as if it were his life mission.  

With your pillow in your head, you try desperately to fall asleep, but the girl’s voice keeps getting higher, her moans piercing through the pillow over your head. Jungkook’s deep voice grunts and says something you can’t understand, but it only makes her moan louder. The bed bangs harder against the wall.

This can’t keep going. As a barista, you need your eight hours of sleep, otherwise there’s no way you’ll survive the rude clients. If anything goes wrong at work after this, you’ll definitely kill Jungkook, who’s the only one to blame for it.

With a deep groan, you leave the warmth of your bed, heading straight to his apartment. The second you bang on his door, everything stops before footsteps are heard. Your heart stammers in your chest, too scared he might hate you.

When the door opens, an almost naked Jungkook stands in front of you. His toned and sweaty chest is on full display while his bottom is hidden in loose grey sweatpants. His chest also moves at a crazy fast pace, and his breathing is all over the place, just like his tousled hair. If he wasn’t your friend, you might have found your way to his bed because he looks devastatingly hot.

His intense dark gaze scares the hell out of you, but you couldn’t care less. “What are you doing here?” he says with clear frustration.

Jungkook takes the time to look down at you, clearly taken aback to see you here, and he can’t help but find you absolutely cute. Your cute and short pajamas leave little to the imagination.

“It’s 2 fucking am, Kook,” you tell him with some anger. “Can’t you both shut up and let me sleep?”

A smirk appears on his face, while a chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“Why would I do that?” he raises an eyebrow. “I’m having fun.”

“I don’t care!” you almost yell at him. “I need to sleep.”

“You never complained before…”

Your eyes dramatically roll, which only makes him chuckle more. Even though you love him, right now you don’t, and he’ll pay for it. You ignore how yet, but you’ll get revenge.

“Please choke her or whatever, but make her shut up,” you say. “Otherwise, I’ll do it myself.”    

“I’d love to see that,” he teasingly says with his damn smirk growing bigger.

“Jungkook,” you warn him, “I’m not joking.”

Your neighbor takes a deep breath, his hand running through his hair while he closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, there’s something in them that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the guy down there is dead,” he gestures to his dick, and your eyes inevitably look down. There’s nothing, just as he mentions. “Somebody decided to ruin all the fun.”

“Ask for a blowjob or something else to wake your little guy,” you reply as if it was damn obvious.

“Are you for real?” he narrows his eyes. “Just go back to your place and sleep. We won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You nod before going back to sleep. As promised, silence follows, allowing you to return to sleep peacefully. When you wake up hours later, you feel so damn exhausted, and somehow, you don’t even find the energy to hate him. Probably, he hates you right now for cockblocking him, but you know it won’t last long.

After getting dressed and ready for work, you head to the elevator. Surprisingly, Jungkook is already waiting for it at the lobby.

“Good morning, Kook,” you smile at him.

“Only good morning to you, Voldemort,” he mumbles.

Anyone would be surprised by the nickname Voldemort, but it always makes you smile like an idiot. At first, Jungkook was saying it to bother you because you’re a mega fan of Harry Potter, but over time, it became a sign of affection.

“You’re mad?” you ask.

“Don’t know yet,” he honestly replies, his eyes finally looking at you.

“Will a super good breakfast prepared by your fantastic neighbor convince you not to be mad?” you try to sway him.

In order for you to get proper revenge, you need first to gain his trust again, so it’ll piss him off when you do it. A sly smile stretches across his face, and you know right there and then that you just won. Jungkook loves your breakfasts.

“Might help,” he smiles.

As promised, his breakfast was served at the coffee shop where you work, and in the blink of an eye, he devoured everything like a starved man. He definitely was starving, and even though you’re preparing your little revenge, it made you smile to see him eating everything.

The next day, Jungkook shows up unannounced at your place when a couple living next to you starts arguing very loudly. Melissa and Carter seem to enjoy arguing over the smallest things. For example, a week ago, it was because he bought the wrong tomatoes, and she made a big deal out of it. It’s funny, honestly.

“What are the popcorns for?” you ask when Jungkook steps inside your apartment.

“Their argument is juicy today,” he says, heading straight to the kitchen to place the popcorn in a bowl. “Apparently, she’s cheating,” he screams.

You laugh, shaking your head as your feet guide you to the kitchen. Jungkook is way too noisy for his own good. The two of you sit at the table, the bowl of popcorn between you, and you listen to Melissa and Carter arguing. Your kitchen connects with theirs.

“I saw you with him,” Carter yells. “How dare you deny it?”

“Because he’s just a friend!” she claps back. “Can’t I speak with friends now? Or are you the only one who gets the right to speak with women?”

This is so childish, even your nieces and nephews have more interesting discussions. But there’s nothing else really to expect from these two; they always argue over the silliest things. If they fight over tomatoes, they can’t possibly have a good conversation.

“A friend you kiss?” Carter’s voice gets incredibly higher.

Both you and Jungkook laugh with popcorn in your mouths.

“Gosh, she’s quite shameless,” you say with your mouth full. “Wouldn’t have expected it from her.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jungkook piles on, his eyes quickly looking at you with a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if the roles were reversed. Melissa left me speechless here.”

For a second, your eyes glance over to the man next to you. The memory of him, all sweaty and almost naked, comes up, and damn, your legs squeeze at the thought. You have to bite your tongue to push those thoughts away. He’s your friend—at least it’s what you’re trying to convince yourself.  

“Stop lying!” Carte yells all over again. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Maybe you should consider wearing glasses,” she fights back.

This time, none of you holds back the laughter. This Melissa is really bad at lying or finding excuses. She could have done better.

“She could have found better,” Jungkook says while laughing like an idiot.

“She could just admit it,” you add.

Somehow, this feels like watching a telenovela with him. There’s always something going on with your neighbors, and they quite entertain you a lot. You’ve laughed a lot over them, and the even funnier part is that they totally ignore how everyone is able to hear their silly arguments. Meeting them in the elevator or somewhere in the building makes it hard to hold back.

“For fuck’s sake,” Carter swears before a loud door slams.

“This time, they’ll for sure split,” Jungkook speaks with a mouth full of popcorn. “He can’t stay with a cheater.”

“I wouldn’t stay if I was him.” Who would stay with a cheater? It’ll be like accepting to torture yourself over and over again. Lucky for you, remaining in a relationship is the last of your wishes, which tends to annoy your parents.

Just like Jungkook, you tend to find rather questionable men, but as long as they give you an orgasm, it’s not important. Truth be told, sometimes, they’re absolutely bad at it, which can be frustrating, but it’s very rare.

“Me neither,” he says, his eyes meeting yours. “But first, we’d need to get into a relationship.”

You chuckle, shaking your head and grabbing a handful of popcorn. “That’d be a tragedy.”

Jungkook hates relationships, to say the least. In fact, he runs away from them as if the plague was following him. Hookups are his favorite, which you perfectly understand. The thing is that he might have a tiny little crush on you. How couldn’t he? His entire soul was drawn to you since the very first time he met you.

The thing is that he isn’t fully ready to acknowledge his crush, and he values your friendship way too much. Those moments with you, like this one, are what fill his soul. He always looks forward to being with you, and deep down, he knows he’s always finding an excuse to spend time with you.

For example, two days later, he shows up at your door because he’s absolutely bored, and doesn’t even try to hide it.

“I’m not your personal entertainer,” you tell him, not letting him in.

“Yes, you are,” he replies without even thinking. “So let me in.”

“No,” you shake your head.

The man waiting for you in the living room would clearly not be happy to see another gentleman barging in. Who would? Especially when you’re that close to getting into the warmth of your bedsheets to fuck.

“Please leave,” you tell him with gritted teeth.

“Yn?” the man calls for you while his footsteps get closer.

A bright smile grows on Jungkook’s face as he understands what the matter is here. Can he blame you? No, but man, he also definitely wants to bother you. However, he’s not going to do it because he doesn’t want you to hate him.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” he surrenders before letting you go back to your hookup. Jungkook still takes a peek inside, trying to see who the lucky guy is. “He’s a solid eight, by the way,” he says when he notices the blond man. “Have fun, dearest neighbor.”   

The two of you have this habit of rating your hookups whenever you get a look at them. His choices are sometimes not the best, but they never look too bad—as long as he has whatever he wants, it’s just fine for you.  

What Jungkook ignores is how loud you pretend to be when this blond guy fucks the shit out of you. This might be one of your revenges, and the fact that he’s bored makes it even better. He’ll have to listen to you while you spend a blissful moment with another man.

And man, you got loud. Jungkook even has to play some random video game, with the sound blasting in his ear and almost making him deaf, but at least your moans are lessened. Somehow, he understands why you disturbed him while he was busy with another woman a couple of nights ago.

The next few days are calmer, no hookups, and your neighbors are way too calm, but you still spend some time with Jungkook.

“Love your new haircut,” you tell him when you step inside the elevator next to him.

“Thanks,” he genuinely smiles.

“You’re trying to impress a new girl?” You narrow your eyes playfully.  

A sly smirk appears on his face, and you already know some shit is going to come from his mouth. Nothing good ever leaves his mouth when that smirk shows up. You already mentally prepare yourself to roll your eyes heavily.

“Maybe…” he whispers, shrugging.

Before you can roll your eyes, he steps closer and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek, causing shivers to run down your spine.   

“You’re unbearable,” you mutter, trying to ignore how your body reacts to him.

“And yet,” he says smugly as the elevator doors open, “you keep talking to me.”

This time, you definitely roll your eyes and scoff as you follow him out of the elevator. This man is clearly unbelievable. Sometimes, you even wonder how you manage to keep up with him, as he always acts bratty.

“That can change very quickly if I want to,” you say, crossing your arms.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, walking backward down the hallway with that stupidly confident grin. The urge to slap his face tickles your hands, and if he keeps going, you might not be able to hold it back.

“You’re going to ignore me now?” he asks once in front of you.

“What if I do?” you stop in front of him, your bodies a breath away from each other.

“Yn,” he lets out a laugh, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You always forget half of your groceries every single time and then make me rescue you.”

Well, he’s absolutely right. Without him, you’d spend your time going back and forth between your place and the grocery store. You’ve tried everything to buy all you need, but it’s useless. Luckily for you, Jungkook always has what you need at his place.

“I’ll find a solution…” you say, but it doesn’t sound convincing.

“Looks like Melissa is rubbing off on you,” he begins, his fingers running from your hair to your cheek, making you shiver even more. “You’re starting to lie as badly as her.”

For sure, it’s a lie. You won’t ever be able to find a solution as efficient as Jungkook, but what can you do? If he keeps being this cocky, you might really stop talking to him. There’s no way you’ll feed his ego more.

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” you try to defend yourself. “She cheated on Carter, and this is about me and my shitty memory.”

“Not wrong, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re a terrible liar,” he says with that annoying smirk still on his face.

“If you keep going, I’ll really stop talking to you, and you’ll have to find a new personal entertainer.” You push his hand away from your face so you can resume walking to your apartment.

Jungkook sighs before running after you to catch you up. Fuck, he probably messed up.

“Sorry,” he says behind you. “I still need my personal entertainer and my partner in hearing Melissa and Carter’s silly fights.”

A chuckle leaves your lips as you turn around to face him. He looks cute when he apologizes, and to be honest, this new haircut makes him look way too hot for his own good.

“Apologies accepted,” you say. “On one condition.”

“I’m all ears,” he replies.

Your lower lip is caught between your teeth. This is the perfect moment to get revenge for the sleep disruption and for the nonsense he just threw in your face. He’ll probably kill you, but you don’t care. You have to try.

“No girls for a month,” you say with a sly smile.

Jungkook instantly shakes his head, “Absolutely no.”  

His face is absolutely hilarious. His eyes are incredibly wide, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his cheeks are taking on a pink shade. Is he embarrassed or shocked? Good question, but you hope for both.   

“Then, you’ll have to find a new neighbor to bother,” you immediately turn around and walk to your apartment.

“Wait,” he comes after you, his hand grabbing your wrist to prevent you from walking away. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you tilt your head. “Did I look like I was joking?”

You definitely are, but you’re trying to see if he’ll just surrender. This will be the biggest cockblock ever.

“You’re asking me to go a full month without sex…” he runs his fingers through his hair. “You know I barely survive a week.”

“I know,” you say with the biggest teasing smile on your face. “But you compared me to Melissa and basically implied I couldn’t survive without you, which is deeply hurtful.” It isn’t, but you’re not going to say it. “It’s either your questionable chicks or me.”

“You can’t be serious,” he mumbles under his breath.

“You still have your hand to help you out,” you suggest, trying to offer him a solution.

“As if my hand could ever be like a pussy,” he shakes his head, completely defeated. You clearly handed him a dilemma, and it’s funny to watch. Even better than Melissa and Carter’s telenovela.  

“Maybe you can find something better at a sex shop,” you offer.

For sure, you’ll be the death of him before the end of the day. How can you just throw things like that as if you weren’t asking him to go without sex for an entire month? There’s no way he’ll survive that much. But he values your friendship way too much. If he has to go a full month without sex to keep hearing your bullshit when he bothers you, so be it.

“Okay,” he agrees with your crazy condition. “I’ll do it.”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You were expecting a lot of begging and bargaining, but definitely not him giving up that easily, especially when it comes to his mindblowing sex.

“Really?” A smile stretches on your face. “You’d choose me over your hookups?”  

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he rolls his eyes. “I’d rather use my hand for a month straight than be forever deprived of your stupid comments over our neighbors.”

You shake your head, taking whatever he says while you perfectly know that he cares about you, and even though you don’t want to admit it, it genuinely pleases you that he chooses you.

To both your surprises, you wrap your arms around him, pushing him into a warm embrace. None of you has ever been this close—unless you consider trying to put a drunk Jungkook to bed as closeness.

However, this is just the beginning of your revenge…

In the following days, you make sure to be as loud as possible whenever a man is between your legs. Damn, you’ve probably never moaned that loud, despite it being completely fake. None of the men actually manages to make you properly come.

Jungkook keeps wandering around you, as if nothing ever happened. Carter and Melissa never broke up, but they still argue like kids every day. The two of you playfully listen to their arguments. Now, you also have a new neighbor who’s like the biggest cheater in the world. He brings in multiple girls but keeps sweet-talking with his supposed girlfriend.

This is new entertainment for you and Jungkook.

jk🔥: no man tonight?

A smile appears on your face when you see the message.

you: too exhausted to open my legs 🥱

Through the thin walls, you manage to hear his contagious chuckle.

jk🔥: you sound like a whore

you: learned from the best

That isn’t true—you started long before meeting him. One-night stands have been part of your frequent vocabulary for a long time now. The sad part of it all is that you’re never satisfied. One could think that with all those guys, you’d find a way to be fulfilled, but it’s the opposite.

Sleeping with them only creates a bigger hollow inside you. Most of the time, it feels like you’re chasing after the unknown. You’ve no clue what you want, so sleeping with guys seems to make it easier.

What truly fills your soul is the time spent with your friends and family. There’s no feeling like laughing loudly at a friend’s joke, or playing with your nieces and nephews in your parents’ house, or even bothering Jungkook with the eggs you forgot to buy. Those moments are what truly nurture you.

jk🔥: you might have surpassed your teacher

You genuinely smile, but you don’t know how to feel. Is it a good thing you’ve been having all these men in your bed? Is it even worth it? Well, your body will definitely say yes, but your brain wouldn’t know what to think.

you: i’m the perfect student then 🤗

jk🔥: a tiny bit too loud student

Even though the purpose was to torture him a bit, you somehow feel a bit guilty. You’re not playing fair with him.

you: isn’t it too hard?

The three dots dance on your screen while you patiently wait for his reply.

jk🔥: no, except when you fake it

You gasp at his message. How can he tell that? Then, as you were typing your answer, Jungkook calls you.

“How do you know?” you straightforwardly ask.

“I just know,” he replies.

“You cannot say things like that,” you reply, as you shift onto your side, staring at the wall.

“But it’s true,” his voice lowers, somehow sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re unbelievable.” A little smile makes its way to your face.

“No, you’re the one being unbelievable,” he counters immediately. “Do you have any idea how torturous these past days have been?”

“That’s not what you said on your message,” you say.

He sighs deeply on the other side, and you can tell it’s been hard for him. Well, if it was the other way around, you’d be dying. No sex for a month, and hearing your neighbor going wild would definitely be torture.

“And you agreed to the deal,” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, and now I’m stuck listening to you through the wall every night while you sound like you’re auditioning for an Oscar,” he teasingly replies.

Honestly, the thought of it being terrible never crossed your mind. For sure, you’ve been faking it a couple of times or exaggerating it to annoy your neighbor, but you thought it was fine.

“Oh my god,” you bury your face into your pillow with some embarrassment. “You’re insane.”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side, amused by your comment. Honestly, since he agreed to this whole no sex for a month, hearing you has definitely been driving him insane. If he’s honest, it actually turns him on. He has even dreamed once of being on top of you and giving you as much pleasure as you want with his mouth, fingers, and cock.

“And you’re a terrible liar,” he adds.

Or maybe Jungkook knows you well enough to be able to say it. Over the past year, he’s hung out with you more than he has with his own friends, so there’s no doubt that he knows you quite well.

“When you fake it, your voice changes,” he says softly.

Sometimes, he wishes he didn’t know when you’re about to come or when you’re faking it. It can be embarrassing to a certain level.

Before you even get the chance to ask him how he knows all of it, he says, “The walls are way too thin, we can hear everything even if we don’t want to. It’s not our fault if we know how the other sounds in bed. I’m absolutely sure you know when I’m about to come.”

Of course you do, and like him, sometimes you wish you didn’t. Those are your most intimate moments, and it’s weird that the person you consider a friend knows about them. Although at this stage, your friendship is taking another turn.

“You’re saying you know me that well?” you whisper.

“I do, even if I don’t want to admit it,” he says softly. “Like I just know that you’re absolutely loving to drive me crazy.”

You try to ignore the warmth spreading through your stomach. He noticed it. He knows you’re doing this all on purpose.

“Maybe you’re just easy to mess with.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, his eyes glued to the ceiling while he runs his free hand through his hair. “You’re too dangerous,” he whispers with the deepest voice you’ve ever heard from him.

Your heart stops beating for a second. What can you even say to that? This is just you trying to get some revenge, but in a certain way, it feels like it’s coming right back at you.

“You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of villain,” you reply.

Jungkook chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Honestly, he wishes a wall wasn’t separating the two of you right now. It would have been a hundred times better to be with you.

“No,” he says gently. “A villain would at least have the decency to kill me quickly.”

Your heart hammers in your chest because you know damn well that he’s flirting with you. Somehow, you’d like to say that this doesn’t affect you, but it’d be a total lie. Fuck, you even want him to keep flirting with you.

“But you?” his voice drops lower. “You just smile, act nice, and take your sweet time killing me. You’re such a dangerous woman.”

His last words send shivers down your spine. 

“I’m not trying to kill you,” you whisper softly.

“No?” he asks while raising an eyebrow. “So, knocking at my door at 2 am while I’m balls-deep in someone, asking me to go a month without sex, and moaning loudly isn’t trying to kill me?”

Well, he might not be wrong, but this has been quite funny so far. 

“And do you want to know the worst part?” he continues.

“Tell me,” you whisper.

A part of you already knows what he’s about to say, but you still want to hear it.

“I don’t even want you to stop.”

Fuck, he definitely knows how to speak to women. For the first time, you’re experiencing the flirty version of him, which is a total turn-on.

“So, is this your way of telling me to keep going?” you ask, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.  

“Maybe,” he replies in a heartbeat.

“Then, brace yourself,” you say, your eyes closing for a second. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

A bright smile grows on his face at the simple thought of it. He can’t wait to see what you have in store for him. A part of him knows that he shouldn’t be excited because it’d be playing with fire and probably risking your friendship, but his little crush on you speaks louder. He wants to ruin the friendship. Actually, he wants you to ruin him.

The very next day, you meet on the elevator after an intense day at work. Throughout the day, you avoided texting him to tease him a bit. It was also packed at work, but whenever you had five minutes for yourself, you’d leave him on read, which frustrates him.

“You know,” Jungkook says as soon as you step inside the elevator, “most people answer texts.”

A proud smile appears on your face before you turn your face to look at him. Your head tilts a bit to the right, trying to see if he’s angry or frustrated or maybe both.

“Most people aren’t me,” you nonchalantly reply.

“Clearly,” he sighs. “I was starting to think that I needed to file a missing person report.”

You heavily roll your eyes, your smile never once leaving your lips. His eyes admire you for a second, his breath faltering for a second, as he tries to remain composed. It’s been hard not to speak with you for an entire day. He’s not used to it.

“You’re being so dramatic,” you tell him.

“Says the woman who weaponizes read receipts,” he mumbles under his breath.

Even though he doesn’t want you to hear it, you still do, but you don’t react. You warned him yesterday, and you’re definitely going to push him over the edge. He’s clearly not ready for what’s coming, and in no time, he’ll be begging for your mercy.

When the doors open, the two of you leave the small cabin, walking toward your apartments. The sound of life echoing around fills the small silence between you, but your mind is racing with thoughts.  

The moment you both reach your apartment doors, you step closer, barely leaving any space between your bodies. Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, trying to read you.

“Did you miss me?” you teasingly whisper as your fingers run down his chest, sending electricity through both of you.

Jungkook is used to being teased, but man, when it’s you, he barely manages to think. He’s completely under your spell.

“What if I did?” he mumbles, his hot breath caressing the skin of your face. “Would it be terrible?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply with a smirk. “You should be the one telling me.”

For a second, he doesn’t reply, trying to think of a decent answer. The nastiest answer crosses his mind because he desperately wants to have you weak on your knees, but maybe it isn’t the most appropriate, especially not in the building’s hallway. Your neighbors could hear it, just like you can hear everything.

Jungkook leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear, and the feeling of his breath against your skin definitely sends shivers down your spine. Seems like your little game has backfired right at you.  

“You’re lucky I have enough self-control not to answer the way I want to,” he whispers, his husky voice sending a fresh wave of shivers through you.

Fuck, you never imagined yourself being so turned on by your neighbor. Over the past year, you’ve never truly pictured yourself getting freaky with him because being with him is what you've always valued the most. He’s a great friend.

But now, you’d open your legs for him… What kind of friendship is that?

A smirk appears on your face. “Is that so?” you tease him. “What’s holding you back?”

Without any warning, Jungkook licks your ear before kissing the spot right under. A whimper escapes your lips. Now, this is something you didn’t expect or even see coming. His lips leave a couple of more kisses on that spot before moving higher. Your eyes flutter shut while your hand finds its way to his fluffy hair.

This feels fucking good for both of you.

An anticipation builds within you as he slowly reaches your lips. Damn, you're so eager to feel his mouth on yours, to finally know what it's like to be kissed by Jungkook. So far, it's fantastic and thrilling. No wonder every shady girl wants him.

His lips halt at the corner of yours, his eyes moving up to look at you. The nastiest smirk appears on his face, and man, this is a fucking victory for him. Right now, he has you wrapped around his fingers, and he has never desired this much to kiss you as desperately as he wants right now.

Jungkook doesn’t move, his eyes glued to yours as they slowly open again. None of you moves, and it somehow drives you crazy. You need his lips on yours. His breathing tickles your face, but you couldn’t care less. His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“Can I?” he asks softly.

The simple fact that he asked instead of just rushing his lips on yours makes your heart swell. Never before has a man done that. In the heat of the moment, you wouldn’t have even thought to ask, but he did. You’d like to say that it surprises you coming from him, but it doesn’t. It definitely matches his personality and who he is.

“Absolutely,” you nod with a smile.

Without hesitation, his lips smash against yours, finally kissing you. The kiss is soft and tender, the kind of kiss that feels long overdue. You immediately melt into it, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt as he smiles into the kiss. His hands find their way to your back, pressing you against his body. The world disappears around you while he deepens the kiss.

You’ve kissed many men before him, but none of them were this great. Jungkook is more than a great kisser, and the more you get to see his flirty side, the more you understand the girls he brings home.

Your body leans into his while your fingers hold his shirt as tight as possible. The two of you desperately try to push each other even closer, as if you’ll run away if you let go. The kiss is all tongue and teeth by now, clearly indicating the nasty turn it’s taking.

But let’s not forget the sex ban you put him under.

It’s not because he has you wrapped around his fingers, or should you say, wrapped around his tongue, that he gets to get freaky. So, very delicately, you push him back with your hands, clearly putting an end to this mindblowing kiss.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest, the vibration running straight to your core and making you wet at the same time, as if this simple moment hadn’t already left you desperate for more.

“You’re still forbidden from sex, Kook,” you whisper against his lips. 

Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes, too scared to see your fucked out expression. He hasn’t really forgotten about it, but somehow, he was hopeful that if it involves you, you’d give him a pass. If he sees you, he won’t be able to resist.

You place a gentle peck on his lips before taking a step back, putting some clear distance between the two of you. This is highly frustrating for you both, but you still have your revenge to get on. And this really helps.

“Fuck,” he mumbles before opening his eyes and running a hand through his hair. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“You can kiss as much as you want, but it can’t go any further than that,” you reply with a victorious smile on your face. “And you were clearly trying to get me into your bed.”

This sight right here could make him come in an instant. Your shiny, swollen lips are mesmerizing, making it impossible to look away, but beyond that, your beauty is breathtaking. He has never desired anyone as much as he does right now. He definitely wants more, but obviously, he won’t get it. Certainly not from you.

Seems like his hand will be his only consolation tonight…

“You’ll have to try harder for that to happen,” you add.

A smirk instantly stretches his lips, leaving no doubt that he’ll do everything in his power to see you contorting with pleasure underneath him.

In the following days, you purposely avoid Jungkook as if he has the plague, but it’s all part of your silly revenge plan. To say that it frustrates him is a rather huge understatement. Even hearing Melissa and Carter get freaky—because believe it or not, that woman is absolutely loud when she gets dicked down—is absolute torture to him. Usually, it’s quite funny, but not this time around.

Whenever you’d see him from afar, you’d devilishly smile and run away or hide from him as fast as you could. Your smile would grow even bigger when you hear him masturbating and moaning like a frenetic at night, totally ignoring that he’s also torturing you back.

Jungkook plays along with your game. You wanted to torture him, so be it, but he has to get back at you. His only plan is to make you hear his despair. And it’s working because he could hear you, too.

The tension is clearly growing, and none of you is preventing it from expanding. As vicious as it might sound, you are actually more than eager to make it unbearable.

And then, a heatwave hits.

Everything suddenly becomes too much. Your name would roll off his tongue at a surprisingly fast pace, your fingers would find their way to your core every time you thought of him, and avoiding him turns out to be almost impossible. You’re craving each other with a tremendous desperation.

Usually, heatwaves make it almost unbearable to think of getting naughty because it’s just too hot, but to the two of you, it’s actually the opposite. You want it. Maybe not as much as Melissa and Carter, because those two are not stopping for a second. It’s almost like he has forgotten she cheated on him not so long ago. Maybe he has selective memory.

The heat between your legs clearly becomes insufferable. You couldn’t do it anymore. So you probably did the most stupid thing and knocked on his door at midnight after you heard him moaning your name like it was some sort of mantra.

“Not avoiding me anymore, huh?” Jungkook says when he opens the door.

Your gaze drops to his sweaty chest, heavy breathing, and tousled hair before settling on the familiar pair of Calvin Klein briefs he always seems to wear. The prominent bulge instantly makes you drool.

“Actually, I wanted to warn you that I’m going to file a noise complaint,” you teasingly reply.

“Oh, yeah?” he kookily asks. “Isn’t it flattering to have a man masturbating at the thought of you?”

You instantly choke on your own saliva at his straightforwardness. He’s not even trying to hide what he was doing, which somehow surprises you while also not surprising you in the slightest. This man is a walking contradiction. And does it turn you on? Absolutely!

 “Maybe,” you reply, pushing him to get inside his place.

Tonight, you won’t be leaving without getting destroyed by him. Jungkook closes the door behind him before slowly making his way toward you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, even though the answer is rather obvious.

“I told you—” you start speaking, but he cuts you off.

“We both know it isn’t true.” Jungkook now stands right in front of you, his chest almost pressed against yours.

“Who said I was going to file it against you?” You raise an eyebrow. “It could be against our beloved neighbors, and I’d need some backup, or…” your fingertips trail down his damp chest, sending shivers right through his body. “Or it could be against us and the noise we’re about to make.”

Your eyes follow the tip of your fingertip sliding over his body, noticing as well how his breathing picks up. Although it definitely looks like a victory, it doesn’t feel like one. Why? Because you crave him with your entire being, and he hasn’t surrendered just yet.

A smirk rises on his face before he snorts. “What noises?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, your eyes moving up to meet his gaze. He’s so fucking breathtaking with his tussled hair. “Maybe something similar to what Melissa and Carter have been up to for the past few days.”  

Anyone with two ears could perfectly hear how loud they’ve been fucking lately. This whole cheating thing has excited them even more. You’re sure that you and Jungkook haven’t been the only people turned on.

“May I need to remind you of the sex ban you put me under?”

The two of you know that it doesn’t matter anymore. The ban has long been forgotten. It simply has been the cataclysm of this whole teasing and flirting between you.

You dangerously close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his ear to whisper, “I don’t remember anything of it.”

Shivers appear on his body instantly. He’s fucked. But he perfectly knows it, and he doesn’t care. All he wants is to have you in any possible way, which clearly seems like he’d get it tonight. If he knew, he’d have called a wizard or whatever to create this heatwave sooner.   

In an instant, his arm wraps around your waist, pushing you even closer to his body. Your chest is pressed to his now, his sweatiness straining your large t-shirt. Jungkook leans closer, his face a breath away from yours. His eyes scan yours for a hot second before his lips fall over yours.

This kiss is far from slow and tender. It’s all tongue and teeth and completely desperate. This is the result of days and weeks of teasing, and man, it feels so fucking great. This time, you definitely aren’t going to leave him. You’re certainly going to let him ruin you in every possible way.

When you break apart, Jungkook walks the two of you to his couch and sits on it, spreading his legs wide. Without giving you much time to think about it, he pulls you into his lap, making you straddle one of his thighs. Your knees trap his toned thigh between you while he gently tugs you closer until you’re chest to chest.

He cups your face and kisses you again, and the heat of his body against yours wraps around you. The despair and lust entirely consume you. For sure, you’re not going to survive, especially with this damn heatwave. His tongue slides into your mouth, making you moan softly. His hands move down to rest on your waist, but they don’t stay there long.

Jungkook breaks the kiss before trailing his lips along your jaw and then your neck, which makes you tilt your head to give him free pass to suck you lightly. Very slowly, you start rocking against his thigh, and the friction between your bodies makes the two of you moan. His groan against your neck makes you move a tiny bit faster.

His hands move to your back, holding you against him while your hips desperately sway. For sure, he’ll leave a mark on your skin, but you absolutely don’t give a shit about it. He’s free to do as he pleases.

When his lips finally leave your neck, he takes a proper look at you, and his cock gets hard instantly. That’s a sight he’ll engrave in his brain forever. This is something he never thought he’d ever witness, but man, he’s fucking happy it ever happened.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his breathing frenetic. “You’re so fucking pretty.”    

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other with so much lust you might combust at any given moment. Jungkook pulls you back for another deep kiss, his tongue instantly making its way inside your mouth while his hands slide up and down your spine, leaving tons of goosebumps on the way.

This is all too wild, especially for Jungkook after going through three weeks without sex. He could just come right there and then just from the kiss, and he absolutely doesn’t care if it might make him look like a desperate man. He is desperate and full of hunger.

His lips move once more down to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. This time, he doesn’t suck your skin; he just wets it with his tongue and lips, causing moans to fall from your mouth. Your eyes close for a moment to savor this special moment.

Jungkook takes your t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the living room, and hooks his fingers into the front of your laced bra to tug it down. Before you can even process what he’s doing, his mouth closes around your nipple. A loud whimper leaves your lips as your back arches instantly.

His lips and tongue are gentle at first, but his desperation takes over his body, and then, he sucks harder. All the while, your hips keep rocking against his thigh. The combined feeling of his hot mouth on your nipple, his flexing thigh under you, and his hardness against your body drives you absolutely crazy.

And then, he slips a hand down your stomach, his fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. The motion of your hips increases instantly, your hands moving to his hair to push him even more against your chest, and a trail of moans falls from your mouth.  

“Can I?” his eyes look up at you before his tongue licks your sensitive nipple.

“Absolutely,” you nod.

At this stage, you can’t tell who’s the most desperate. Him or you? You don’t know, but does it really matter? No, because you’re both getting what you want. You’ve been craving this more and more since the kiss, and hearing him masturbating was like the cherry on top.

Jungkook slips his hand inside your shorts, his fingers immediately finding how wet you already are. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, his head resting against your chest while his eyes close at the feeling of your wetness.  

“Hearing you moaning my name turned me on so fucking much,” you mumble before tucking at his hair.

His finger drags slowly through your folds, gathering some wetness before circling your clit lightly. This is honestly too much. He’s so talented, and now, you definitely get why all the women are so fucking desperate for him. He’s so good at giving pleasure.

“I should do that more often, then,” he replies, his gaze shifting up to your face.

Before you even get to reply, he pushes a finger inside you, curling it slightly, and you clench around him, your hips rocking into his hand. Jungkook doesn’t even let you get used to it; he instantly slides another finger. Your mouth hangs open, small whimpers rumbling deep from within your chest. He thrusts them in and out at a steady pace while his thumb rubs your clit.

“Fuck,” you swear, your gaze locked with his as he fucks you with his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Ride my fingers.”

The pace of his fingers increases while they curl perfectly inside you with every thrust. His lips find yours again, swallowing every single moan. He shows no mercy to you, torturing you just the way you need it. For a while, his fingers stretch you as his thumb rubs your clit. You’re a complete mess on his lap.  

At some point, the feeling of his fingers inside you becomes too overwhelming, and you just cum with a high-pitched moan. His eyes never leave you, taking the time to admire how you fall apart on his lap. Your orgasm doesn’t stop him. On the contrary, his fingers thrust even faster.

“Kook…” you manage to say in between moans.

Your hands rest on his arm, trying to hold onto something while he keeps pushing you over the edge. Your hips move, your head falls, and your back arches in a way that might break your spine at some point.

“Too much…” you mumble when you feel your orgasm ready to burst again.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he says against your shoulder, biting it gently.

The way he speaks to you with his deep voice and the nickname sends you right over the edge again. Your second orgasm is just as intense as the first one, if not more. Even with the hot weather, it feels fucking good. Jungkook looks at you, not wanting to miss a thing, and he halts his fingers.

“You look so fucking beautiful when you come,” he smiles at you like a pervert.

When Jungkook finally takes his fingers out, you whine at the loss, and he brings them to his mouth to taste you. Seeing him doing it makes you clench around emptiness. He’s so hot, it might even be a crime to look that fine.

“And you taste like fucking heaven,” he continues.

“No need to exaggerate,” you smile while shaking your head.

“I’m not lying, sweetheart,” he replies while pushing your body against his. “You know I always say what I think,” he whispers against your lips, pressing another kiss.

Jungkook pushes you off his lap and removes every simple piece of clothing still on your body. He shifts you forward on the couch, placing you on your hands and knees. His hands grip your hips from behind, pulling your ass toward him. The feeling of his bulge against your core makes you both groan. In two seconds, he pushes his underwear down, and then, you feel the head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance.

Jungkook pushes forward, and the stretch is immediately intense. Your hands tighten into a fist, and your teeth bite your lower lip while he slowly sinks into you from behind. His hands almost bruise your hips as he holds you.

Your mouth falls open when he’s fully inside, and he just stops, giving you both the time to adjust to the stretch. He leans down, his chest pressing against your back, and he presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin.

For a moment, he peppers the skin of your back and shoulder with kisses, as if he’s worshipping your body. At some point, you turn your head, and he instantly captures your lips for a kiss.   

As he kisses you, his hips slowly start to move into deep thrusts, and he swallows your moans. Your entire body rocks forward with the snap of his hips. Feeling him inside you is devastatingly overwhelming, but in such a good way. Right now, you’re starting to regret not doing this any sooner. He’s good at it. Really good.

Well, somehow it isn’t surprising since he has sex at least once a week. If he didn’t know how to use his dick by now, that would be something to be concerned about. The girls’ moans were definitely justified, even though you wished it never was at 2 am.

“You’re taking me so well,” he whispers against your ear.

“I know,” you tease him.

Jungkook chuckles before straightening his back. You look back at him with a devious smile on your face.

“You’re so full of yourself,” he says while his eyes are inevitably drawn to where your bodies are joined. It’s mesmerizing to see the way his dick disappears inside you and how you coat him with your wetness. He might get addicted to this sight.

“Not as much as you,” you reply.

His legs slightly spread yours a bit more, and his hand pushes your shoulders even more against the couch, making your back arch even more. Now, his shaft touches parts of your insides you never thought existed. Strangled moans fall from your lips instantly. This feels freaking good and overwhelming at the same time.   

“How couldn’t I be when I have you exactly where I wanted you?” He groans behind you.

Involuntarily, your walls squeeze around him, making the two of you moan. Hearing him say it out loud turns you on even more. It’s not a surprise because he was literally masturbating and moaning your name minutes ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s flattering.  

Instead of replying, you push back to meet his deep thrusts. Jungkook’s hands move to your ass, rubbing his fingers over your skin and watching over and over how you suck him in. He even pushes your cheeks apart to take an even better look, as if he wants to make sure this is real.

Slowly but surely, his pace turns faster, harder, and deeper. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans echoes in his living room. Everything slowly becomes too much, and you know you’re so freaking close. Jungkook hits a special spot inside you, making your eyes roll back.

And then, your third orgasm just hits you intensely.

You squeeze him tightly while your body shakes under him. This one is honestly intense. You’ve never orgasmed that way before, and fuck, you only want more. You don’t care if you’re being overstimulated, as long as you get to come like this.

Jungkook looks at you falling apart under his ministration, and his chest swells with pride. This is all he ever wanted. As you come back down, he slows his thrusts before pulling out with a wet sound. You whine at the sudden loss, but he’s already turning you around to face him.

He sits back on the couch and pulls you into his lap, making you straddle him all over again. His lips find yours for a messy and sloppy kiss, while your hands wrap around his neck.

“Ride me,” he whispers against your lips.

Well, he doesn’t have to tell you twice—you just obey. Your hands move to his shoulder to balance yourself as you sink down onto his cock. Your body is so wet that he slides in so easily. His hands settle on your waist before you start riding him.

At first, the rolls of your hips are slow and shaky, but his hands help you all along. Every time you sink down on him, he groans deeply, which only makes you grow wetter. Slowly, your confidence increases, and your hips move rather faster and deeper. The two of you get completely lost in pleasure, enjoying every bit of this moment.

One of his hands finds your clit, rubbing slick circles while his other hand guides your movements. His face hides for a second in the crook of your neck, gently kissing and biting your skin. His fingers never stop teasing your clit, and it only brings you closer to the edge. If he keeps going, you’ll come at least three more times before this even stops.

Being with him right here feels honestly so good. Your mind is completely drunk on pleasure, your eyes are half-lidded, your lips parted, and your helpless moans keep falling from your mouth.

“This is so good,” he whispers against your skin as his fingers move faster on your clit, the slick sound of it filling the air.

His eyes look up at you, watching just how destroyed you are. He’s so close as well. It’s a matter of seconds before he’s coming deep inside you. Both your bodies are covered in sweat—proof of the damn hot weather and of your steamy activities.  

You whimper at his words, totally agreeing with him, and your head falls on his shoulder as you keep riding him. This is seriously becoming too overwhelming all over again. Jungkook feels it with the way your body starts shaking. He doesn’t want any of this to end any time soon.

The hand on your waist slides up on your back, pressing you even more against him. Your hard and sensitive nipples brush against his chest, which makes you moan against his skin. By now, your entire body is sensitive. He’s torturing you just so perfectly.

“You’re clenching so hard around me, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.

His fingers circle your clit even faster, wanting to bring you to orgasm for a fourth time. Without really noticing it, you bounce quicker on him, chasing this upcoming orgasm. Your moans get louder, just like the sound of skin slapping against skin.

For sure, your neighbors are hearing the free show you're giving them. You might as well inspire them to do the same, and you don’t even doubt that Melissa and Carter might follow you, if they aren’t already doing the deed.  

Jungkook is just as desperate as you are, so his hips naturally thrust up to meet your movements. The two of you moan way too loud, but who cares? Well, hopefully, none of your neighbors will file a noise complaint against you.

Before you even realize it, you’re coming hard around him, more of your juices running down his shaft. And he follows you right after, his cock pumping you full of his cum. Feeling it makes you squeeze him even harder, and a strangled sound escapes his pretty lips.

Your head rests on his shoulder as you try to get down from everything that just happened. His fingers trace circles along your spine. Your bodies are completely spent and covered in sweat.

“You definitely know how to use that dick of yours,” you say when you’ve managed to catch your breath.

Jungkook brushes damp strands of hair away from your face. “Who said I didn’t?”

You chuckle while shaking your head. He’s unbelievable. “I did,” you reply.

“Glad I finally got to prove you wrong,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Maybe we should take a shower.”

You simply nod, and he drags the two of you into his bathroom. It’s supposed to be a simple and quick shower, but in an instant, it turns into another sex session where he completely rearranges your guts against the shower’s wall. Shower sex was a first for you, but you’re definitely going to try it again with him.  

The night turns out to be a long one, and the heatwave definitely seems not to matter at all. If you’re too hot, you ride him all over again. Luckily for you, you don’t have to work the next day, you wouldn’t have been able to present yourself at work.

As of now, let’s just say that whenever you gather to hear your neighbors’ shenanigans, it inevitably ends up with the two of you entwined.

Every touch from the actress made his jaw tighten instead of loosen. Every direction for more heat made him sharper, meaner, less believable. He was giving the scene the correct body and none of the hunger, because the hunger was somewhere else entirely. 

It was on you. 

You stood behind the monitor in a short skirt and a black shirt that showed just enough to ruin his concentration. Professional. Controlled. More dangerous than anything deliberately indecent. The neckline sat low enough to give him ideas, and the skirt stopped high enough to make his gaze drop every time you leaned over to check the frame. 

The actress touched his chest. Jungkook looked past the camera. 

At you. 

You saw the mistake before anyone else did. 

“Cut.” 

The set stilled around your voice. Jungkook lifted his head, hair ruined, jaw tight, mouth parted around whatever filthy comment he was smart enough not to say in front of the crew. 

You lowered the clipboard against your thigh. 

“Take ten.” 

He was already moving, pulling on his robe as he walked off set without looking back. 

You waited thirty seconds before following. 

His dressing room was warm from the vanity bulbs. Jungkook stood in front of the mirror with both hands braced on the counter, robe open over his bare chest, head lowered as if he could force his frustration into obedience by breathing hard enough. 

You shut the door. 

His eyes found yours in the glass. 

“You are doing the scene wrong.” 

“Am I?” 

“You know you are.” 

“She is not the problem.” 

“No?” 

His gaze dropped to your skirt, then dragged back up slowly. 

“Do not play stupid with me.” 

“You need to go back out there and finish the scene.” 

“I need you on this vanity.” 

Heat moved through you before you could stop it, and Jungkook noticed immediately. His mouth tipped into one quick, filthy smile. 

“You like that.” 

“Not sex.” 

He stopped moving. 

“I am ovulating,” you said. “And we both know we are not sensible once you get close.” 

The argument left his face. 

Not the want.

Only the argument. 

“Then not sex.” 

You blinked. 

“That easy?” 

“You said no.” His gaze lowered again, darker now. “But you did not say I could not use my mouth.” 

“Jungkook.” 

“Baby, you are soaked.” His voice went rough and low. “Standing behind that monitor pretending to be annoyed when really you are aching.” 

“You have minutes.” 

“Stop wasting them.” 

He locked the door, crossed back to you, and settled one hand at your waist while the other found the hem of your skirt. He did not lift it yet. He only touched the edge, fingers brushing bare thigh, watching the way your body shifted toward him before you could pretend otherwise. 

“My needy little problem.” 

“You still have to work.” 

“I am working.” 

“Not on the scene.” 

“No.” He lowered himself to his knees in front of you. “On the reason I ruined it.” 

Your fingers gripped the edge of the vanity behind you. Jungkook looked up from the floor, robe loose around his shoulders, mouth too smug for a man kneeling. 

“Tell me no, and I stop.” 

Your hand slid into his hair. 

“Yes.” 

His eyes sharpened. 

“Yes what?” 

“You can use your mouth.” 

“And?” 

Your throat tightened. 

“Your fingers too.” 

Jungkook smiled. 

“Smart woman.” 

He pushed your skirt up slowly, watching your face while the fabric gathered at your hips. His hands moved over your thighs, spreading them wider until he could fit between them, and he kissed the inside of one thigh first, then the other, high enough to make your knees soften but not high enough to help. 

You pulled his hair. 

His laugh moved against your skin. 

“Already?” 

“Jungkook.” 

“I know.” 

His fingers hooked into your underwear and dragged it aside. The second he saw you, the smugness dropped out of his face for one breath. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

Your face heated, but his mouth found you before you could answer. 

No slow tease. No pretty delay. His tongue went straight to your clit, firm and focused, and your hips jerked against his mouth before you could stop them. One hand tightened around your thigh to keep you open for him while the other slid between your legs, gathering how wet you were before his fingers pressed lower. 

He groaned into you, and the sound went straight through your body. 

“All this because I could not pretend to want someone else?” 

You tried to answer. Nothing useful came out. 

His tongue stayed on your clit, steady enough to make your fingers tighten in his hair, while his fingers pressed at your entrance and waited for your hips to move toward him. When they did, he eased one finger inside, slow enough for you to feel the stretch, adding a second when your body opened for him. 

Your head fell back against the mirror. 

The bulbs around it warmed your skin. Your skirt was shoved up around your hips. Jungkook was on his knees with his mouth between your thighs and his fingers moving inside you, and outside the door, the whole set was waiting for him to come back and pretend the hunger belonged anywhere but here. 

He curled his fingers. 

Your hand flew to your mouth. 

He pulled back just enough to look up at you. 

“No.” 

Your eyes dropped to his. 

His mouth was wet. His expression was obscene. 

“I want to hear what I am fixing.” 

“Someone will hear.” 

“Let them.” 

His mouth was on you again before you could argue. He worked you with his mouth and fingers together, tongue circling your clit while his fingers moved inside you in a rhythm that made your thighs start to shake. Every time your knees weakened, he held you harder, and every time your hips tried to pull away from how sharp the pleasure became, his arm wrapped around your thigh and kept you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Take it.” 

Your fingers twisted in his hair. 

“Right there,” you gasped. 

He followed the sound, changed the angle of his hand, and the pressure hit so cleanly that your body folded forward over him, one hand braced on his shoulder, the other still buried in his hair. 

Jungkook groaned. 

“Pull my hair again.” 

You did. 

His eyes lifted to yours, dark and wild. 

“My pretty little slut.” 

The words went through you hard, and he felt it in the way your body clenched around his fingers. 

“You like that, huh?” 

You did not answer. 

Your body already had. 

His mouth returned to your clit, rougher now, hungrier, tongue and lips working you until your hips started moving against him on their own. His fingers kept the same steady rhythm inside you, curling when your sounds grew higher, slowing when your body tightened too fast, building again before you could recover. 

“Do not stop,” you breathed. 

He did not. 

His free hand slid up your thigh and pushed your skirt higher, exposing more of you to the warm vanity light. 

“Skirt up. Legs open. Acting strict with me all day and now you cannot even stand properly.” 

“Jungkook.” 

“Cum on my mouth.” His fingers moved harder. “Go back out there shaking.” 

That ruined you. 

You came with your back against the mirror and one hand clamped in his hair, your thighs trembling around his shoulders while his mouth stayed on you through the first hard wave. His fingers slowed but did not leave you until the sharpest part passed. When your body jerked from overstimulation, he softened his mouth, kissed the inside of your thigh once, and pulled back. 

The room went quiet - just the vanity lights, your breathing, a distant laugh down the corridor. 

Jungkook stayed on his knees, hair ruined from your hands, robe slipping off one shoulder, looking painfully pleased with himself. 

“You have to go back,” you said. 

“I know.” 

“You have to finish the scene properly.” 

“I will.” 

“You said that earlier.” 

“I was hungry earlier.” 

“And now?” 

He stood slowly, keeping one hand at your waist until your legs steadied. He fixed your underwear first, careful in a way that made your chest ache after all that filth, then smoothed your skirt down over your thighs and pressed the fabric into place as if he was memorising what he had done beneath it. 

“Now I have been fed.” 

“You are disgusting.” 

“You are late.” 

“I am motivated.” 

He leaned in and kissed you, not softly and not deeply, only enough for you to taste yourself on his mouth. Your fingers tightened in his robe, and Jungkook smiled against your lips. 

“Go sit behind your little monitor.” 

“You better be convincing.” 

He opened the door, then looked back at you. 

“Baby, after that?” His gaze dropped down your body once, slow and crude. “I am going to be perfect.” 

He walked back to set with his robe loose, hair wrecked, mouth smug, and the kind of focus that made every person in the hallway move out of his way. 

You stayed in the dressing room for another minute, one hand on the vanity, skirt straightened, thighs still trembling, trying to remember how to look like the woman in charge. 

When you returned to the monitor, Jungkook was already back in position. 

The crew waited for you. 

You checked the frame, let the silence stretch just long enough for him to feel it, and lifted your voice. 

“Action.” 

The actress touched his chest again. 

This time, Jungkook smiled exactly the way the scene needed him to. 

Warm. 

Lazy. 

Believable. 

But when his gaze flicked to you for half a second, you knew the truth. 

The hunger was still yours. 

A few nights later, Jungkook came out of the shower with a towel low on his hips and water still running down his chest. 

He stopped in the bedroom doorway. 

You were waiting on the bed in dark red lingerie. 

The lace sat close against your skin, dark and delicate and cruelly intentional, cut to frame your body instead of hiding it. Your thighs were bare against the sheets. Your hair fell loose around your shoulders. You had one knee bent, one hand resting beside you, and the kind of smile that told him you had planned every second of this before he ever walked into the room. 

Jungkook said nothing. 

His gaze moved from your face to the red lace, then lower, down your body, to your thighs, to the way you were sitting in the middle of his bed like patience had finally turned into something he was allowed to touch. 

His hand tightened once around the towel. 

You smiled softly. 

“I am not ovulating anymore.” 

Jungkook’s gaze lifted back to yours. 

“You are evil.” 

“You waited.” 

“Barely.” 

“But you did.” 

The towel dropped. 

You shifted on the bed, letting the lace move with you. 

“You can fill me up now, baby.” 

His eyes closed for one second. 

When he opened them, the last patient part of him was gone. 

“Turn over.” 

You moved onto your knees near the edge of the bed, lowered your chest to the sheets, and lifted your hips for him. The lace pulled tight over you. Your cheek pressed against the bedding. You looked back over your shoulder and used your fingers to show him exactly where you needed him. 

“Please be rough,” you whispered. “I missed you so much.” 

Jungkook crossed the room, and his hand landed against your ass hard enough to make your body jolt forward. 

“That what you missed?” 

“Yes.” 

His hand slid into your hair, gathering it carefully before he pulled your head back from the sheets. 

“No. Tell me properly.” 

Your thighs pressed together. 

“I missed your mouth.” 

His fingers tightened. 

“And?” 

“Your hands.” 

“And?” 

You looked back at him. 

“Your cock.” 

His mouth turned sinful. 

“My pretty little slut.” 

He pushed the red lace aside instead of taking it off, too impatient to unwrap you neatly. His hands spread you open first, thumbs pressing into your thighs, holding you in place while he looked at how wet you already were. 

“Fuck, baby. So wet for my cock.” 

Your face heated. 

His palm came down again, then rubbed over the sting with firm, slow pressure. 

“Do not hide now.” 

He dropped to his knees behind you at the edge of the bed and pulled your hips closer to his mouth. One hand stayed on your ass, keeping you open for him; the other slid between your thighs, two fingers parting you before his mouth touched you. 

You gripped the sheets. 

Jungkook ate you like he had been waiting all week to be allowed. 

No teasing now. No pretty delay. His mouth went straight to your clit, hot and focused, tongue firm enough to make your hips jerk back into him. He groaned against you when you did, and his fingers slid lower, gathered your wetness, and pushed inside you slowly enough that you felt every inch. 

Your body clenched around his fingers. 

He lifted his mouth only long enough to speak. 

“You needed this.” 

His mouth returned to you, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm, curling inside you while his tongue worked your clit. He kept you bent forward with one hand at your hip, forcing you to stay open for him every time your thighs tried to close. Your knees shifted wider on the mattress. Your back arched. Your fingers clawed at the sheets. 

“Take it.”

Your hips started chasing his mouth, and he held you tighter. 

“Right there,” you gasped. “Fuck, right there.” 

He did not move away from that spot. 

Your body broke open under him, face buried in the sheets, hips shaking against his mouth, his fingers still moving inside you until the pleasure finished tearing through you. He slowed only when your body trembled too sharply, kissed the inside of your thigh once, and rose behind you. 

The bed dipped under his knee as his hands settled at your waist. 

He pushed your thighs wider with his knee and positioned himself behind you. One hand stayed locked around your hip. The other slid up your back, into your hair again, pulling just enough to lift your face from the sheets. 

“Look back at me.” 

You did. 

His jaw was tight. His wet hair had fallen over his forehead, and his mouth looked almost cruel with restraint. 

“Say it.” 

“Fill me up.” 

His grip tightened. 

“Again.” 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

He pushed into you in one deep, controlled stroke. 

Both of you went quiet. 

Your body stretched around him, still sensitive from his mouth, wet enough to take him easily, full enough to make your fingers twist hard in the bedding. Jungkook held still behind you, buried deep, his hand flexing at your waist like he was fighting the instinct to move too soon. 

You pushed back against him. 

His control snapped into motion. 

He fucked you from behind in deep, rough strokes, one hand gripping your hip, the other still in your hair. He pulled your head up just enough to keep your back arched, just enough to make the angle sharper. The bed shifted under you. The lace scratched softly against your skin. His hips hit you in a steady, heavy rhythm that made every sound leave your mouth broken. 

“Look at me when I fuck you.” 

You turned your face as much as you could. 

“Like that.” 

He slapped your ass again, gripped the same place, and drove deeper. 

“Fuck,” you cried. “You are so big.” 

His rhythm stuttered. 

“Say that again.” 

“You are so big.” 

“Baby.” 

It came out ruined. 

Your arms weakened, and he caught it immediately, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you upright onto your knees. Your back pressed against his chest, your head tipped against his shoulder, and he stayed inside you as he changed the position, still moving as he lifted you, making the angle shift until your whole body tightened around him. 

His hand slid between your thighs. 

The second his fingers found your clit, your head fell back against him. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Louder.” 

You moaned louder. 

His mouth pressed to your ear. 

“Mine. Only fucking mine.” 

The words went through you like a command. He held you up with one arm around your waist and kept the other hand between your thighs, fucking you from underneath while his fingers worked you from the front. You could feel him everywhere: inside you, against your back, in your hair, at your throat when his mouth dragged over your skin. 

“Harder,” you whispered. 

His grip tightened. 

“Ask properly.” 

“Fuck me harder.” 

Jungkook made a sound against your neck and gave you exactly what you asked for. 

You came like that, held upright on his cock, his hand between your legs, your thighs shaking so badly he had to keep you from folding forward. 

He lowered you carefully until your chest met the sheets again, his hand still firm at your waist, waiting until the worst of your trembling eased before he pulled out and turned you onto your back. The lace was twisted now, ruined across your body. Jungkook pushed it aside where it got in his way and settled between your thighs, lifting your legs until they rested over his shoulders. 

“Legs on my shoulders, baby.” 

The new angle made your stomach tighten before he even moved. 

He pushed back inside you slowly this time, watching your face as he filled you again. Once he was deep, he leaned forward, folding you open beneath him, your thighs pressed against his chest while his hands gripped the backs of your legs. The pressure was different like this. Deeper. More direct. 

Your eyes closed. 

His hand came to your jaw. 

“Do not look away.” His thumb dragged over your lower lip. “Watch me ruin you.” 

You opened your eyes. 

He moved slower than before, harder because of the angle. Every thrust pushed deep enough to make your body slide slightly against the sheets. He watched your mouth open, your hands grip the bedding, the red lace shifting over your chest every time he drove forward. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Do not stop.” 

“I will not.” 

His hand slid between your bodies, and the touch to your clit made you jerk under him. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Baby.” 

“Please.” 

He fucked you harder, hand working between you until the pleasure built too fast again. Your body tightened around him, and his rhythm faltered for the first time. 

“Fuck. Do that again.” 

You clenched around him deliberately. 

His gaze sharpened. 

You smiled. 

He drove into you hard enough to make the smile fall apart. 

“Not so clever now.” 

You came with your legs around him and his hand between your thighs, your body tightening so hard he had to bury his face in your neck and breathe through it. 

When he let go, it was with a rough sound against your skin. He pushed deep and held himself there, shaking as he filled you the way you had asked him to. His mouth pressed to your shoulder. His hand tightened around your hip. 

For several breaths, neither of you moved. 

You touched his damp hair. 

“Again.” 

Jungkook lifted his head. 

His expression was wrecked. 

“Come here. I am not done with you.” 

He pulled out slowly and sat back against the headboard, bringing you with him. His hands settled at your waist as he guided you into his lap. You straddled him, knees on either side of his hips, hands on his shoulders. He was already getting hard again beneath you, wet from both of you, and when you sank down over him, your whole body shivered. 

Riding him made everything feel different. You controlled the movement at first, rolling your hips slowly, taking him deeper every time you lowered yourself. Jungkook’s head tipped back against the headboard, his hands gripping your hips, not moving you yet, only holding on while you used him. 

“Fuck. Look at you.” 

You moved faster. 

His hands tightened. 

“My favourite problem.” 

You leaned down and kissed him, messy and open-mouthed, too hot to be tender, too full of feeling to be only filthy. He let you ride him until your legs started to tremble, until your rhythm broke, until you pressed your forehead to his and breathed his name like you were asking for help without saying it. 

His hands locked at your waist. 

He drove up into you from beneath, hard enough to lift you slightly with every thrust. You clung to his shoulders. Your nails dragged down his back. He groaned and moved harder. 

“Pull my hair.” 

You did. 

His mouth opened against your neck. 

“Fuck. Like that.” 

He kept fucking up into you, one hand sliding to your ass to hold you down against him, making you take every upward thrust. Your body was oversensitive now, trembling every time he hit deep, but the pleasure kept building because he would not let the rhythm break. 

“Do not stop.” 

“I am not stopping.” 

“Baby.” 

“I know.” 

You came in his lap, face buried in his neck, his name torn out of you in a sound he seemed to feel everywhere. 

He held you through it. 

Only when your body started trembling too sharply did he lift you off him and lay you back on the bed. His mouth followed immediately, kissing down your body, over your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh. 

You jerked. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Very.” 

“Shhh,” he murmured against your skin. “Just a little bit more.” 

His mouth returned to your clit, slower this time, softer at first. His fingers pressed inside you again with careful pressure, and your body, exhausted and greedy, still opened for him. He built you back up without rushing, reading every weak push of your hand in his hair, every broken sound, every helpless lift of your hips. 

“Right there,” you whispered. 

He stayed there. 

No teasing. No joke. No cleverness. 

Only his mouth, his hand, your body shaking beneath him. 

The orgasm rolled through you slower this time, almost unbearable because you were so sensitive. Jungkook held your thighs and eased you through it, softening the pressure the moment your body started to jerk away. 

When he came back up, his mouth was wet and his eyes were dark. 

“I am tired,” you whispered. 

“You asked me to be rough.” 

“I also asked you to fill me up again.” 

The humour thinned from his face. 

“You still want that?” 

You reached for him, pulling him down until his chest covered yours. 

“Yes.” 

His eyes closed. 

“Say it.” 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

He kissed you hard, almost desperately, and had you again, slower now but no less intense, body pressed to body, your legs wrapped around him while his mouth moved over every part of you he could reach. It was less controlled than before. Messier. More emotional, though neither of you said that out loud. 

His face pressed into your neck. 

“You are going to be the death of me.” 

“You love me.” 

“I love you so much it makes me fucking stupid.” 

Your chest tightened. 

His pace deepened, not rougher now, but heavier. Closer. 

“I love you,” he said against your mouth. “Even when you dress like sin and talk like you want me dead.” 

“You love it most then.” 

“I do.” 

You smiled, and he kissed the smile off your mouth. 

The finish took him like something torn out of restraint at last. He held himself deep, shaking against you, voice breaking around your name and a filthy, ruined curse as he filled you again. His body stayed locked to yours as if moving away too soon would make the moment less real. 

For several breaths, neither of you spoke. 

Jungkook lifted his head. His hair was damp again, but not from the shower this time. His face was flushed, mouth softening from cruel to dazed to something so tender it almost embarrassed him. 

You touched his cheek. 

“You filled me up,” you whispered. 

His gaze dropped to your mouth. 

“Do not say that unless you want round three to start in the next ten seconds.” 

You smiled. 

“Maybe I do.” 

He stared at you. 

“You are insane.” 

“You made me like this.” 

“I am proud and afraid.” 

Your laugh came out weak and breathless. 

He kissed your cheek, then your mouth, then your jaw, and for a moment he let himself be sweet. 

Only a moment. 

Your hand slid down his back, nails pressing lightly into his skin, and his whole body reacted. 

“Love,” he warned. 

“You said you were not done.” 

His mouth tipped into a slow smile. 

“So I did.” 

The next part began against the wall. 

He lifted you from the bed with both hands under your thighs and carried you across the room while you laughed into his mouth. Your back met the wall, cool against your heated skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands held you high, spreading you open enough for him to line himself up again. 

He pushed back inside. 

“Oh,” you breathed. 

Jungkook smiled against your throat. 

“Found something?” 

You clutched at his shoulders. 

“Harder.” 

The wall gave him leverage. His body pinned yours. His hands held your thighs open and high, and every thrust drove deeper with a pressure that made you bite down on his name. 

“Cry louder,” he said, rough against your mouth. “Let everyone know who owns you.” 

“There are neighbours.” 

“Then they should move.” 

You laughed, and the laugh broke into a moan when he adjusted his grip and changed the angle again. His mouth found yours, swallowing the sound, then releasing it because he wanted to hear you too much. 

“You’re trembling.” 

“You’re the reason,” you gasped. 

His mouth dragged over your jaw. 

“Keep trembling for me.” 

He kept you there until your body began to shake around him, until the wall felt like the only thing keeping you upright and his hands felt like the only reason you had not slid apart entirely. 

When he carried you back to the bed, your legs were barely useful. 

He laid you down with surprising care and climbed over you, kissing your knee, your thigh, your hip. His hand smoothed over your stomach, then lower, possessive and admiring, before his fingers traced carefully between your thighs and lower still. 

“Tell me you still want me in your ass.” 

Your pulse kicked again, slower this time, deeper. 

“I do.” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Say it properly.” 

You looked at him. 

“I want you in my ass.” 

“Fuck, baby.” 

His focus changed. 

There was filth in his face, always, but his hands became slower. More precise. He kissed your knee, your thigh, your hip, giving your body time to come back down from the roughness before asking it to take anything else. 

“You really do like it.” 

“A lot.” 

His jaw tightened. 

“Baby, that should not make me as insane as it does.” 

“It does?” You smiled. 

He reached for the drawer beside the bed, and the pace shifted into something more intimate despite the heat still burning between you. He did not rush this part.

Jungkook could be crude with his mouth. Rough with his hands. Mean in the way he held you open and made you ask for what you wanted. 

But he was never careless. 

He kissed down your body again while he prepared you, mouth returning between your thighs until your body softened for him, until the sharp edge of anticipation became want again. His fingers moved through the mess he had already made of you, spreading slickness where you needed it, slow enough that your hips started rocking back against his hand. 

“Baby,” he murmured against your thigh. “You want this so badly.” 

“Yes.” 

His hand slid lower. 

Your body tensed for one second when his fingers touched your ass. 

Jungkook stopped immediately, mouth pressing to the back of your thigh, one hand firm at your hip. 

You pushed back into his touch. 

“Do not stop.” 

His exhale hit your skin. 

“Fuck.” 

He worked you open with careful fingers first, slick and patient, one hand still between your thighs so pleasure stayed threaded through the stretch. The first pressure made your fingers twist in the sheets. The second made your mouth fall open. He watched every reaction, read every sound, every small shift of your hips, every place your body softened and asked for more. 

“Like that?” 

“Yes.” 

“More?” 

“Yes.” 

His fingers pressed deeper, slow and deliberate, stretching your ass while his other hand rubbed your clit in lazy, steady circles. The mix of fullness and pleasure made your thighs tremble. It was intense enough to make your thoughts blur, but not painful, not with the way he kept slowing down every time your body tightened and starting again when you pushed back. 

“Fuck, baby,” he said, voice rough. “You are taking my fingers so well.” 

You moaned into the sheets. 

“Jungkook.” 

“I know.” 

He kissed the curve of your ass, then the small of your back, his hand still working you open until your body stopped resisting the stretch and started chasing it. 

Only then did he move you. 

He arranged you on your side, your top leg bent forward, your back against his chest. One arm slid under your neck so he could hold you close. The other stayed at your waist, keeping you steady while he settled behind you. 

You felt him line himself up with your ass. 

The room seemed to narrow to that one point of contact. 

His mouth brushed your ear. 

“Tell me now.” 

You reached back and gripped his hip. 

“I want it.” 

His body went still for half a breath. 

Then he pushed in. 

Slowly. 

The first inch stole the sound out of you. Your hand clamped around his forearm, nails digging into skin, and Jungkook froze with his mouth against your shoulder. 

Not asking with words. 

Listening with his whole body. 

You breathed through the stretch, deep and shaking, your body full in a way that made everything else disappear. His hand moved between your thighs again, finding your clit, rubbing slow circles until the pressure changed shape, until it stopped feeling like too much and started feeling like something you wanted more of. 

You pushed back against him. 

Jungkook’s curse broke against your neck. 

He eased in further, inch by inch, careful and controlled, stopping every time your body needed him to, moving only when you moved first. The stretch was deeper now, fuller, almost overwhelming, but his hand between your thighs kept pleasure burning through it. Your hips rocked back again. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You really do love it.” 

“I told you..” 

“You did.” His mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder.

He pushed deeper. 

Your eyes shut. 

“Baby,” you whispered. 

“I have you.” 

He finally sank all the way in and held there, buried in your ass, chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped around you so tightly you could feel his heartbeat against your spine. Neither of you moved for a few seconds. Your body adjusted around him, stretched and full and trembling. 

His hand stayed between your thighs. 

Slow circles. 

Steady pressure. 

Careful. 

You turned your face toward him. 

“I love it.” 

His eyes closed. 

“Say that again.” 

“I love it.” 

Jungkook swore softly and began to move. 

Not fast at first. Deep. Controlled. Each slow thrust made your fingers curl around his arm. The fullness was different from before, and every time he moved, his hand at your clit turned the stretch into something hot enough to make your hips push back for more. 

“You like being full like this?” 

“Yes..” 

“You like knowing I am being careful even though I want to fuck you hard?” 

Your whole body tightened around him. 

He felt it. 

His hand moved with more pressure between your thighs. “Take it, baby.” 

“Yes..” 

“My little dirty whore.” 

The words made you moan. 

He shifted your top leg higher, opening the angle, and the change made him slide deeper into your ass. You gasped so sharply he groaned into your shoulder. 

“Harder..” you whispered. 

His whole body went tense. 

“Say it again.” 

“Harder..” 

Jungkook lost some of his carefulness then, but not the care. He moved harder because you asked for it, because your body had softened enough to take it, because your sounds told him the roughness was exactly what you wanted. 

The bed creaked beneath you. His arm held you firmly to him. His hand stayed between your thighs, rubbing your clit while he fucked your ass in deep, rough strokes that made your body shake against his chest. 

“Fuck,” you cried. “Do not stop.” 

“I am not stopping.” 

“Jungkook.” 

“I have you, baby.” 

The pleasure built differently this time. Slower. Dirtier. Almost too full to understand. His cock moved deep in your ass, his fingers worked you from the front, and your body had nowhere to hide from either sensation. 

You reached back and tangled one hand in his hair. 

He groaned. 

“Pull.” 

You did. 

His rhythm broke for one second before coming back rougher. 

“Like that,” he said against your ear. “Fuck, baby, just like that.” 

Your orgasm hit hard enough to make your whole body lock around him. You came shaking against his chest, one hand in his hair, the other gripping his wrist while his fingers kept moving between your thighs. Jungkook held you through it, still fucking you slowly, carefully, giving your body enough movement to ride the pleasure without pushing you too far. 

When your trembling sharpened, he slowed, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, the side of your neck. 

“Still with me?” 

You nodded, breathless. 

“Yes.” 

His mouth dragged over your skin. 

“Can I keep going?” 

You pushed back against him again. 

That answer ruined him. 

Jungkook’s sound was almost broken. His arm tightened around your waist, and he started moving again, rougher now, deeper, his mouth at your ear while every thrust pushed the words out of him in.

“So fucking full, baby. You love taking me like this.” 

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes, baby.” 

His hand pressed lower over your stomach, holding you close while the other kept working your clit. 

“Say you love me.” 

“I love you.” 

“Say you love my cock in your ass.” 

You moaned, body clenching around him. 

“I love your cock in my ass.” 

Jungkook groaned like the words had gone straight through him. 

“Fuck.” 

He drove into you harder, still careful enough not to hurt you, still rough enough to make your voice break open. You were shaking again, oversensitive and full, caught between the hand working between your thighs and the arm locked across your breasts, his palm gripping one of them as he held you against him. His fingers dragged up your chest and brushed your mouth.

“Open wide,” he rasped, fingers brushing your mouth. “I am not done.” 

Your lips parted around his fingers, and he swore when your tongue touched them, his hips driving deeper as if the sight had pulled another piece of control loose. 

“Hold still while I use every part of you.” 

You moaned around his fingers. 

His whole body shook. 

“Baby.” 

Your lips slid free from his fingers, and you turned your face toward him as much as you could, your mouth near his jaw, your hand still tangled in his hair. 

“You are such a good boy for me.” 

Jungkook stopped. 

Not completely. His body stayed deep inside you, but everything else seemed to lock at once. His fingers froze against you. His arm tightened around your waist. His mouth opened against your shoulder, and for one strange second, he had nothing clever to say. 

Then he whimpered. 

A real sound. 

Low, broken, startled out of him before he could make it cruel. 

Your pulse kicked hard. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

His hips jerked once, helpless. 

“Do not,” he breathed. 

You smiled against his jaw, soft and wicked. 

“My good boy.” 

Jungkook made a wrecked sound and lost it. 

The next thrust drove the air out of you. He moved harder, but with his restraint torn open by the praise. His mouth stayed against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven, little ruined sounds breaking out of him every time you said it again. 

“You like that?” 

“Baby...” 

The word cracked. 

“You like being told you are good for me?” 

He could barely answer. His hand worked faster between your thighs, keeping you with him even while he fell apart. 

“You are,” you whispered. “You are so good for me.” 

Jungkook buried his face in your neck and moved harder, shaking now, his whole body hot and desperate behind yours. Usually, his filth sounded like control. This was different. This was need stripped bare. 

“Do not look away,” he rasped, turning your face back toward his. “Watch me ruin you.” 

Your eyes found his over your shoulder. 

He looked destroyed. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Call out my name louder,” he said, but the command broke halfway through, almost a plea. “Let everyone know who owns you.” 

“You do.” 

His hand pressed lower over your stomach, holding you tighter to him. 

“Say it again.” 

“You own me.” 

His rhythm stuttered. 

“And I own you,” you whispered. “My good boy.” 

That ruined him completely. 

Jungkook’s mouth opened against your neck, but no words came out this time. Only a raw, helpless sound as his body locked behind yours. He drove in deep and held there, shaking so hard you felt it through every part of him, his fingers digging into your hip, his forehead pressed to your shoulder as he came with a broken whimper he could not swallow. 

For several minutes, he did not speak. 

He stayed wrapped around you, breathing hard against your skin while his hand moved over your stomach in slow, stunned circles. His silence was not distance. It was shock. The kind that made you smile even though your own body was trembling too badly to move. 

“Jungkook?” you whispered. 

He made a faint sound. 

Not a word. 

“Baby?” 

His arm tightened around you. 

Another minute passed before he finally lifted his head enough to press his mouth to your shoulder. 

His voice came out rough. 

“We may have discovered something.” 

You smiled, exhausted and pleased. 

“Did we?” 

He nodded once against your skin, still breathing like he had been dragged under and brought back changed. 

“That good boy thing.” 

You turned your face toward him. 

“You liked that?” 

Jungkook gave a small, ruined laugh, his mouth brushing your shoulder. 

“Love, I think my soul left my body.” 

Your smile widened. 

“So we explore it?” 

His hand spread over your stomach, possessive and tender all at once. 

“Oh, we are absolutely exploring it.” 

The room went quiet after. 

Not peaceful. 

Destroyed. 

Your body felt boneless, heavy, glowing at the edges. Jungkook stayed wrapped around you, breathing hard, mouth pressed to your shoulder, hand still moving gently over your hip as if his body had not yet remembered that the scene had ended. 

“My love?” 

You hummed faintly. 

“Still with me?” 

You turned your head enough to look at him. 

“I am going to need water, a bath, and possibly a new body.” 

His laugh broke against your skin, warm and tired and human. 

“I can do two of those.” 

“You are not funny.” 

“I am very funny.” 

You laughed weakly, and he smiled against your shoulder before carefully easing away from you, slow enough not to hurt. He kissed your shoulder when your body trembled at the loss, then disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth, water, and the focus of a man who could be filthy for hours but would not let you lie uncomfortable for five seconds after. 

The aftercare was quiet. 

That was always how you knew he meant it. 

No performance. No crude joke to hide behind, not at first. He cleaned you with warm water and steady hands. Helped you drink. Checked the places his hands had been rough. Pressed his mouth over the marks he had left as if apology and pride could live in the same kiss. 

“You okay?” he asked finally. 

You looked at him from the pillows, hair ruined, body aching in ways that would remind you of him tomorrow. 

“I am extremely okay.” 

His mouth curved. 

“Extremely?” 

“You are fishing for compliments.” 

“I worked hard.” 

“You did.” 

“Say something nice.” 

“You behaved.” 

He groaned. “Cruel woman.” 

“You were filthy.” 

He perked up slightly. 

“You were rough.” 

His smile returned. 

“You were careful.” 

That one got him. 

The smile faded into something quieter. 

He looked down at where his hand rested over your thigh, thumb moving slowly over your skin. 

“I always want to be careful with you,” he said. 

“I know.” 

“You ask for rough, I will give you rough. You ask for filthy, I will talk until you forget your own name.” His gaze lifted to yours. “But I always want you safe inside it.” 

Your chest tightened. 

“Jungkook.” 

He looked suddenly annoyed with himself for being sincere. 

“Do not make that face.” 

“What face?” 

“The one that makes me say worse things.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I love you.” 

You smiled. 

“You already said that tonight.” 

“Yes, but that was while I was inside you, so legally it might not count.” 

“It counts.” 

“Unfortunate.” 

You reached for him, and he came easily, lying down beside you and pulling you into his chest. He was warm from the shower, from sex, from you. His hand slid into your hair, not pulling now, only holding. His mouth pressed to the top of your head. 

For a while, the room stayed soft around you. 

Sheets twisted. Lace abandoned. A half-empty water glass on the bedside table. The night quiet outside. 

You traced a lazy line over his chest. 

“You were worth waiting for,” you said. 

Jungkook went still beneath your hand. 

His arm tightened around you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.” 

He turned his face into your hair. 

“Next time, maybe do not almost kill me with red lingerie.” 

“No promises.” 

His laugh was low and sleepy. 

“Evil.” 

“You like me evil.” 

“I love you evil.” 

You smiled against his chest. 

“And sweet?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“And smart?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“And filthy?” 

His hand slid down your back, possessive even in exhaustion. 

“Especially.” 

You laughed softly. 

Jungkook kissed your forehead. 

Then your temple. 

Then the corner of your mouth. 

“Sleep,” he murmured. 

“You tired me out.” 

“I am proud.” 

“You should be.” 

“I am.” 

You closed your eyes, tucked into the heat of him, aching and loved and thoroughly ruined in exactly the way you had asked to be. 

Behind you, Jungkook’s hand settled over your stomach. 

Not claiming. Not performing. Just there. 

Warm. 

Steady. 

Yours. 

┈┈┈┈ 「 moodboards 」

Reader/Pixie

Jeon Jungkook - alternatively

Additional

┈┈┈┈ 「 music 」

❯❯❯❯ playlist 1 by @lovieku // playlist 2 by @crystaleah

┈┈┈┈ 「 musings 」

itf breakdown/makings

beta comments

all discourse/feedback/reviews

memorable asks:

thoughtful anon (srsly who are you)

analysis 1 // analysis 2 // analysis 3

when the angst hits 🚬

remembering

magic

hurt so good

note: i wish i could include every feedback but the list would be endless. just know that i love you all IMMENSELY and your engagement with this series is so precious to me. i reread my asks, reblogs, and comment sections whenever i wanna do away with writing 🥺🫂 your reviews are forever cherished ♡

You weren’t too angry. Naturally, you could recognize that 6 months wasn’t as big of a milestone as you made it out to be. 

However, did you have every intention of dragging out his punishment until he was in tears? Yes. Absolutely. It’s human nature. 

If he had known how bad his punishment was going to be, he probably would’ve thought twice before making his choice. 

You drag the pink vibrator over your lingerie-clad pussy, a wet spot forming right front and center where Jungkook could see when he walked in. You had checked his location minutes prior, and well, almost home. Any minute now…

You palm your pebbled nipples through the fabric. It was his favorite color. Light purple with white lace, a coquette set you picked up months ago. 

A soft whimper falls from your mouth as you trace the outline of your clit, inhaling deep breaths. 

And as if on cue, the sound of his apartment door unlocks, followed by heavy footsteps padding into the entryway. “Sweetheart?” he calls out, and you can hear him taking his shoes off. “I know you’re still here. I’m so sorry about tonight, and I want you to know I’ll make it up to you.” 

You giggle, dragging down your panties until they daintily hang off your left ankle, exposing your wet, glossy folds to the world. The vibrator meets your clit again, and you turn the speed up until you jolt against his sheets. 

His bare footsteps echo. “Baby, please talk to me. I’ll take you to the finest fucking restaurant right now, if anything’s still open. Please don’t do—“ 

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. Grips the doorframe like that’ll steady from the sight he sees. You circle the vibrator around your clit before dragging it down to your sopping entrance, whimpering. Your hooded eyes meet his, and a flutter tickles your chest at the sight of just how pale he looks. He gulps thickly. “U-uh, hi, baby. W-what are you up to?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” you smile, biting your bottom lip to suppress a moan. “Just playing with my toys.” 

Jungkook crosses the threshold slowly, tepidly, testing the waters. “Oh. Okay. Are you, uh, mad at me?” 

You giggle again, an airy tone to it. “Oh, baby. I’m not mad. Just frustrated.” 

He moves closer to his bed, closing in on the side you’re on. His eyes zero in on your puffy folds, at the way the vibrator whirls against your clit. Your poor boyfriend has no idea what he’s in for. Not like you feel incredibly guilty or anything. 

Just as his hand is about to reach out to touch you, your foot extends and presses against his chest, knocking him back a few inches. He catches himself, eyes wide in disbelief. You’ve never been one to deny him sexual advances. As an OnlyFans model, you’re aware of your power when it comes to seduction. But now you were dangling a carrot in front of him with no means for him to catch it. 

“Uh-uh,” you tut, shaking your head. “You don’t get to touch me, Koo.” 

“B-but—“ he sputters. “But why?!”

You turn the vibrator up in speed, back arching off his mattress. “Ngh—fuck—because.” For a moment, the world blurs, vision nearly whiting out as the pressure begins to build. “Because I said so.” 

“No, please, baby. Let me help. You love when I help,” he whines. He even stomps his foot like a petulant toddler. 

“Nuh-uh,” you object, lowering the speed to try and throw your orgasm off. “You’re going to sit in the fucking chair, and you’re going to watch me make myself cum.” 

“But—“

“Jungkook.” You deadpan. “Sit in the chair.” 

He pouts, shuffling over to the chair in the corner and perching himself on the edge so as to get himself closest to the mattress as possible. Turning up the speed again, you press it firmly against your clit, other hand squeezing your tit and perking your nipple. 

“Fucking hell.” His eyes don’t move from you, entranced. Jungkook licks his lips, swallowing thickly. You let your head fall back against the pillow, hips rolling into the vibrator. 

His knuckles are white where he’s gripping the arms of the chair, knees spread, the outline of his cock straining against his pants “Baby. Sweetheart. Light of my fucking life. Can I just—”

“No.”

“I won’t even use my hands. I’ll use my mouth only, just the way you like it.” 

“Sit. There.” You point the vibrator at him, slick and gleaming with your juices. “Or I turn it off and we talk about how you chose Namjoon and your fans instead.”

That shuts him up. Nothing terrifies Jungkook like processing when he’s made a mistake in your presence. When you finally let the speed climb back up, when your back arches and a sound tears itself out of you, he makes a strangled noise. “Okay,” he exhales. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll cancel everything for a month, I’ll fire my own manager, I’ll—fuck, you’re so wet, I can see it from here, baby, please—“

“Mm. No.” You drag the vibrator lower to your entrance, puffy folds grasp onto it, making your belly tingle. “Not yet.”

“Baby. I said sorry. I’ll say it in three languages. I’ll go to Cartier and buy you whatever you want right fucking now.” He shifts in the chair, trying to enjoy the friction of his own pants against his length, eyes glassy with unshed tears. You had every intention of this punishment lasting until the wee hours of the night, but you do love Cartier…

“Anything I want?” 

“Anything. Everything. My entire bank account is yours.”

Setting the vibrator down beside your hip, slick and uselessly humming against the sheets now, you peer at him. His knuckles are bloodless on the chair arms, awaiting your every last word.

“Crawl to me.”

He deadpans. “What?” 

“Crawl to me, Jungkook.” 

“You’re… baby, you’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, hands lingering near the vibrator to remind him who’s in charge of the show. “You missed our 6-month anniversary. You can crawl across your mattress.”

His eyes drop to where your thighs are trembling, at the mess you’ve made of his sheets, and he decides that crawling might be the best option he’s heard all night. He stands, knees hitting the edge of his king-sized mattress. Your sultry eyes follow him, finger lazily toying with your sensitive nub. His shaggy black hair falls into his eyes, lips swollen from how much he’s bitten the skin. 

Carefully, he lowers himself onto the mattress, hands outstretched and knees bent. He crawls over to the right side of where you lay, a permanent pout etched onto his mouth. His hand reaches for your hip and your foot meets his chest. A flat palm of a heel pressed right over his sternum, pushing him back until he’s sitting on his knees between your legs with nowhere to go, nothing to do with his hands. “Baby—”

“Watch me cum,” you order, and turn the vibrator back on.

It won’t take long, what with how long you’ve been edging yourself. You circle the toy on your clit, building the pressure back up from where you let it drop. Your free hand slides up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb catching your nipple, and you watch his face while you do it. Watch his mouth fall open, watch his tongue poke the inside of his cheek, watch his hands curl against his own thighs. 

Your hips roll up to meet the vibrator, a whimper spilling out of you. Your muddled thoughts move like water through a clogged drain.

“That’s it,” he says, “Just like that, come on—”

“Not asking for commentary,” you squirm as you turn the speed up another notch, white spots blurring your vision. 

“I know.” He doesn’t stop. “You’re so close. I can tell. I know what you look like when you’re about to cum.” 

His words hurtle you over the edge—your back peels off the mattress, wind knocked clean out of you. “O-oh fuck, gonna cum, Koo. I’m gonna cum.” Your body writhes through every pulse of your climax, thighs trembling and slick, juices dripping slowly to the sheets beneath you.

You click off the vibrator hastily, letting your head fall into the plush pillows, struggling to catch your breath. 

Fucking hell. Maybe he should get in trouble more often. 

“So, uh. Are you done punishing me or should I go sit back in the chair?”

“You nervous?” he asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You exhale slowly, nodding. “Yeah. A little.”

“Me too,” he says as his thumb brushes your cheekbone. 

It’s rare for him to admit that. Jungkook is usually the one who dives headfirst into everything, dragging you along for the ride, and you don’t complain. You love that Jungkook encourages you to step out of your comfort zone. 

But this is different. Bringing a third person into your bed, even for the show, feels like a line is being crossed. 

You just hope it’s the right one.

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin to make you look at him. “This changes nothing, okay? No matter what happens tonight, you’re mine and I love you. Remember that.” 

“I know,” you smile, leaning into his touch. “I love you too.”

Your phone buzzes in your hand. You swipe the screen open, refreshing your timeline. A new tweet from Taehyung sits right at the top, posted two minutes ago.

“He’s on his way,” you announce.

You smile, locking the phone and looking up at Jungkook, who is currently staring intensely at a loose thread on the duvet.

Jungkook nods, snapping out of it. He turns away to check the camera focus one last time. You lean back against the pillows, staring at the empty mattress before you. 

It feels crazy that in a matter of minutes, he is going to be here.It feels even crazier that just a few days ago, you were sitting across a table from him, talking exactly how you were going to fuck on camera.

The memory of when you met him hits you the moment you close your eyes.

Vante had suggested the place, claiming it was the only spot in the city where he could actually hear himself think. A quiet spot, decorated with old vinyls on the walls, velvet seating, and warm toned wood, giving it a cozy, vintage vibe. 

You walk in with Jungkook’s hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm seeping through your clothes helps you soothe your nerves and serves as a silent reminder that no matter what happens, he’s right there with you. 

Seated in the far corner, you spot him immediately. He looks even better in person, wearing a long tan coat, looking expensive, blowing gently on a steaming cup of tea.

“There he is,” Jungkook murmurs, guiding you forward.

He looks up as you approach. A boxy smile spreads across his face. He sets his cup down and stands up to greet you, unbuttoning his coat to reveal a crisp black turtleneck underneath.

“Jungkook. And Y/N,” he says. “Finally.”

“Vante,” Jungkook nods, shaking his hand firmly.

“Please, call me Taehyung. Or Tae.” He turns his attention to you, taking your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. His eyes flicker up to yours. “The camera doesn’t do you justice, sweetheart. You’re even more gorgeous in person.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

“Just honest,” he winks.

You slide into the booth, and a waiter appears almost instantly to take your order. You ask for a hot chocolate while Jungkook requests an iced Americano, and within minutes, the drinks are placed on the table between you.

The conversation starts easily, covering everyday things just to break the ice. But after a few minutes, it feels like you’ve known him forever. He has this magnetic energy that draws both you and Jungkook towards him instantly.

You tell him how you started streaming, explaining that it began as a joke to pay for a new couch but turned into something you genuinely loved doing together. 

He listens, nodding along, before sharing his own story. He tells you he started on Twitch out of boredom during the lockdowns. 

It was just gaming at first, until some of his subscribers started asking to see what his hands could do when they weren't holding a controller. Eventually, he had to switch platforms to give them exactly what they wanted. 

“We’ve… definitely enjoyed your content,” Jungkook adds, a little bashful. “More than once, watching your streams helped us get in the mood before we went live ourselves.”

Taehyung looks visibly pleased to hear that. “I saw you on the trending page one night. I clicked out of curiosity, but five minutes later I was already subscribed to the premium tier. I couldn't look away.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, looking pink in the cheeks.

Taehyung leans back, crossing his arms. “So. The stream. My subscribers have been spamming me about this for weeks.”

“Ours too,” Jungkook admits.

“We’ve never brought a third person in before,” you explain. “We always talked about trying it, but we never found anyone who felt right. You just… gave us good vibes.”

“I’m honored to be the first,” Taehyung hums. He looks between the two of you, resting his chin on his hand. “But before we get to the fun part…” he starts, his tone shifting to something more serious.

“Yes?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Boundaries. I like to know exactly where the lines are before anything happens. Because I need to be clear about something.” He holds Jungkook’s gaze. “I’m fine with wherever it takes us. Whether it’s focused just on her,” he nods at you, “or if the two of us get involved,” he finishes, keeping his eyes locked on Jungkook, gauging his reaction.

“Does the idea bother you?” Taehyung asks, leaning forward slightly. “Because if we’re both fucking her, we’re going to be close. Our hands will touch. Our dicks might touch. I might want to kiss you while you’re inside her.”

You turn your head to watch Jungkook, holding your breath. You’ve talked about this, about the fantasy of sharing, but the reality of them getting handsy with each other wasn't exactly what you and Jungkook had thought. The plan was mostly for them to focus on you.

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He takes a sip of his coffee, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never been with a guy,” he states simply, though you catch the way his fingers tap nervously against the glass.

Under the table, Jungkook finds your hand. You squeeze back, applying pressure to reassure him.

“But I’ve always been curious,” he admits, a shy determination setting in. He sets his glass down and meets Taehyung’s eyes. “So... yeah. If the moment feels right, I’m not stopping it.”

Taehyung grins. “I like hearing that,” he says, glancing at you then back to your boyfriend. “I think the three of us are going to have a lot of fun.”

“I think so too,” Jungkook smirks.

“Okay,” you interject, leaning forward to keep things moving. You take a sip of your hot chocolate to wet your dry throat. “What about preferences? Limits? Just so you know, I like it rough. Spanking, hair pulling... I'm good with that.”

“I’m versatile,” Taehyung says easily. “I like watching, I like touching. And I pride myself on my oral abilities.”

Jungkook laughs, draping his arm over the back of the booth to curl his hand around your shoulder. “Good to know,” he says, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “She goes crazy for oral. And trust me, you’ll know if she likes it. She doesn’t hold back.”

“Oh, I know,” Taehyung teases, looking at you. “Those noises you make? Let’s just say they’ve made me cum more times than I should probably admit.”

The image of the Vante sitting alone in his room, hand on his cock while watching you on his screen? Yeah, that does things to you.

“But I plan on getting plenty of those sounds out of you myself,” Taehyung promises.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“And what about you, Jungkook?” Taehyung asks, shifting his attention. “What do you like?”

Jungkook blinks, surprised that the question is directed at him and not just about what he wants done to you. “Me?”

“Yeah. I aim to please everyone,” Taehyung smirks.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Jungkook hums, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I like having my neck kissed?”

You catch the way his eyes drop to Jungkook’s neck. He is definitely filing that information away for later.

“Next topic,” Jungkook says, dropping his voice. “Safety.”

“I’m on the pill,” you state clearly. “Jungkook and I are both clean, so we don’t use condoms. If you’re clean, we're good with no condoms with you too. But if you want to use protection, we’re totally fine with that.”

“Actually, hold on,” Taehyung says. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times before sliding it across the table. “Dated three days ago. Full panel. Clean,” he says. He leans in closer. “I prefer raw. I want to feel your pussy without anything in the way.”

Heat rushes to your face at his comment, but you don't look away.

Jungkook picks up the phone, scanning it quickly before nodding. “Looks good.” He slides it back. “One last thing,” he asks, looking at Taehyung. “Where are we streaming? Your channel or ours?”

“Yours,” Taehyung decides easily. “I invited myself, so it’s only fair. If our subscribers like what they see… maybe we do round two on mine.”

The thought of him already planning a second time before the first has even happened makes you feel all giddy.

“Saturday?” Taehyung asks.

“Saturday. Eight o’clock. Our place,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll text you the address.”

Taehyung finishes his tea, looking entirely too satisfied. “I’m looking forward to it. It’s going to be a very interesting night.”

The memory of that day fades as Jungkook’s phone buzzing on the desk snaps you back to the present.

The screen lights up with Taehyung’s contact name. Jungkook picks it up, sliding to answer. “Yeah? You’re downstairs?” He pauses, listening, then rattles off the apartment number.

“I’ll go let him in,” Jungkook says after hanging up. He walks back to the bed, leaning down to press a quick, firm kiss to your lips. “Remember, I love you,” he says softly. He shoots you a reassuring wink before slipping out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

It’s quiet for a moment, but soon you hear the heavy thud of the front door opening, followed by the deep rumble of voices down the hall. You hear Jungkook’s laugh followed by a smoother, deeper reply. A few seconds later, the bedroom door pushes open.

Jungkook walks in first, gesturing to the setup. “Here it is. Where the magic happens.”

Taehyung steps in behind him. He looks effortlessly good, dressed down for comfort in a pair of loose red shorts and a long-sleeved green shirt that hangs off his frame. He looks around the room, taking it in, before his eyes land on you sitting in the middle of the mattress.

“Hey,” he smiles, that boxy grin instantly making the room feel smaller. A flutter goes through your chest. A strange, giddy feeling. It feels weird seeing him here in your private space, but it’s a good kind of weird.

“Hey,” you breathe, smiling back. “We should probably warn the timeline before we start,” you muse, reaching for your phone. 

“Get close,” you instruct. 

They lean in, Jungkook’s shoulder brushing Taehyung’s. You snap a quick photo. Two devastatingly handsome men standing in your apartment, looking like absolute trouble. You type out a quick caption and hit send.

You hold up your phone, showing him the screen. “Going live in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Taehyung repeats, nodding as he steps further into the room. “Perfect. Just enough time to get settled.”

“Drink?” Jungkook offers.

“Why not?” Taehyung shrugs.

“Choose your poison,” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. “I’ve got the kitchen fully stocked. Whiskey, vodka, soju… whatever you need, I probably have a bottle of it.”

“Whiskey,” Taehyung answers immediately.

“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook says.

He slips out of the room, heading to the kitchen. It’s just you and Taehyung now. You shift your weight from foot to foot, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Taehyung doesn’t move from his spot, but you can feel his eyes on you. He watches you, a small, unreadable smile playing on his lips as he takes in your nervous energy.

“You okay?” he asks softly, stepping a little closer. The scent of expensive cologne drifts off him. You inhale sharply. God, he smells rich. Like cedar, spice, and something that probably costs more than your monthly rent.

“Yeah,” you breathe, looking up at him. “Just… I’m pretty nervous, honestly. It’s been just Jungkook and me for so long that being with another guy feels weird.”

“You don’t have to be,” Taehyung reassures you. His smooth voice wraps around you like a warm embrace. “We’re just having fun. If it gets to be too much, we stop. Okay?”

Nodding, you feel the knot in your chest loosening slightly at his reassurance. He smiles, a little wider this time. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” he teases. “Unless you ask me not to be,” and shoots you a charming wink.

You let out a startled laugh. “Besides,” he adds, “I’m a little nervous too.”

The door opens again before you can answer him. Jungkook returns, carrying a bottle of amber liquid and three glasses hooked around his fingers. He sets them down on the desk and pours. You all take a sip, the whiskey burning pleasantly on the way down.

“We should probably get comfortable,” Taehyung murmurs, setting his glass down on the desk. “See if the chemistry works before thousands of people are watching.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agree.

“Before we start,” Jungkook interjects, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Safe word. If anyone feels uncomfortable, say it, and we cut the stream instantly.”

“Kimchi,” you suggest quickly.

Taehyung laughs. “Kimchi? Alright. Kimchi it is.” He turns his full attention to you, stepping into your personal space. “So… can I kiss you now, sweetheart?”

You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing, you think. Stepping forward slowly, you close the distance between you. You have to stand on your tippy toes to reach him, placing your hands on his chest.

It’s been years since you’ve been this close to a man who wasn’t Jungkook. Years since you’ve felt a different pair of lips, a different scent, a different texture.

Closing the distance slowly, you press your lips to his. It’s tentative at first, a soft brush of skin, but you aren't here for polite pecks. You part your lips, inviting him in and his tongue sweeps against yours. He tastes like whiskey. His hands find you instantly, gripping your hips to pull you close against him.

Before you know it, his hands are sliding up, grabbing the hem of your oversized shirt. He pulls it over your head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside.

Underneath, you’re wearing a white crochet halter top. The knit is wide, the loops large enough that your skin is almost completely visible beneath it. It’s more of a decoration than a piece of clothing, because your nipples poke right through the gaps in the yarn, hard and pink.

Taehyung’s eyes drag over your chest. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

Smiling against his lips, you pull him back in for another kiss, letting yourself sink into the moment. You feel Jungkook moving behind you, pressing kisses to your neck, making you shiver. Then, his hands grip your waist, spinning you around so you’re facing him.

“Don’t forget about me,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, capturing your mouth.

While you lose yourself in Jungkook, Taehyung’s palms glide over your belly, creeping upward to settle just under the curve of your tits.

“Is this okay?” Taehyung whispers against your ear.

“Yeah,” you manage to moan into Jungkook’s mouth. His touch feels electric. Taehyung’s hands move up, weighing your tits over the piece of clothing, if you can call it that.

He squeezes, his thumbs finding the nipples poking through the yarn and rubbing them firmly. His palms move fast, before his fingers pinch and tweak the sensitive nubs. You moan, but the sound is swallowed by Jungkook’s mouth.

Without moving your body, you break the kiss with Jungkook. Turning your head to the side, you find Taehyung waiting. He meets you halfway, angling his chin to capture your lips while Jungkook stays close, his forehead resting against your temple. When you finally pull apart, all three of you are panting.

“Mmmh,” Taehyung hums, looking between you and Jungkook, his hips pressing forward so you can feel the semi-hard length of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’re good. Let’s do it,” Taehyung grins.

“Let’s get on the bed,” Jungkook says.

Taehyung climbs onto the mattress, reclining against the headboard, and Jungkook follows him, leaving an empty space for you in the middle.

“Ready?” you ask, your hand hovering over the mouse. They nod. 

You click the button and quickly scramble to get into your place, sitting up straight between them with your legs crossed.

“Welcome back to your favorite corner of the internet, everyone,” Jungkook says, waving at the lens with a grin. He leans back against the headboard, looking like a whole meal. “As you can see… our guest is finally here.”

He doesn’t even need to say the name. The chat monitor on the left is already a blur of speed-scrolling text. It’s moving so fast you can’t even read individual messages. They knew he was coming, but seeing him actually there, sitting on your bed, is sending them into a frenzy.

[vante_fan95] FINALLY [thirstkookiee] THE COLLAB WE NEEDED  [agust_d1ck93] let’s goooooo

Taehyung leans forward, flashing that signature boxy smile at the camera. He waves lazily. “Hi, everyone. I’m Vante,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. “But you probably already knew that.” 

[gucciboy_luv]: came from vantes channel.  they look hot ngl

“I think you broke the chat,” you laugh, leaning back until your shoulder brushes Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist.

“‘Love the top, where is it from?’” Jungkook reads, squinting at the screen. “Someone wants to know about your outfit, baby.”

“Oh, this?” You tug on one of the crochet strings playfully. “I made it myself, actually.” 

[busan13baby] gorgeous you don’t need a bra you can use my hands [sugar_tits88] talented queen!  [punish__me] enough talking get naked  [lickmejk] wanna see some tits pls

Jungkook chuckles, reading the demands. “So impatient guys! Pretty girl, they want you naked.”

“Already?” you tease, tilting your head. “We haven’t even been live for two minutes.”

“The people want what they want. And honestly? I want it too. That top is driving me crazy,” Taehyung murmurs, his hand landing on your knee, giving it a squeeze.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle.

Lifting your hips, your hands go to the waistband of your skirt. The fabric shimmies down your legs as you kick it off the end of the bed. Beneath the clothes, nothing covers your pussy. It is bare, shaved smooth and already glistening slightly from the earlier teasing. 

[lickmejk] shes ready  [agust_d1ck93] fckkkkkk

“No underwear,” Taehyung notes, his eyes dropping to your crotch immediately. “Good girl.”

“Now the top,” Jungkook orders softly. You turn slightly so the audience can see the knots. “I got the neck.”

“I’ll take the back,” Taehyung adds.

You feel their hands working in sync. Jungkook’s fingers brush the nape of your neck, pulling the string loose. He presses a soft kiss to your skin right where the knot used to be.

At the same time, Taehyung’s cool fingers graze your lower back, undoing the knot there. The crochet top falls away as you turn back around to face the camera, letting the fabric drop to the mattress.

You’re completely naked now.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Your boyfriend grins, looking proud. “She really is.”

Jungkook is shirtless, while Taehyung is still fully covered in his sweats and t-shirt. The contrast makes you feel even more exposed.

“Come here,” Jungkook murmurs, hooking a finger under your chin to turn your face toward him. You lean in, kissing him.

But you don’t get to stay there long. A hand grips your chin, turning your head the other way. Taehyung captures your mouth, kissing you with a hunger that surprises you. You moan, opening for him, letting his tongue sweep inside.

Jungkook leans in closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, moving in until his face is right next to Taehyung’s.

Weaving your fingers into their hair, Jungkook’s shorter strands and Taehyung’s slightly longer waves, you hold them close, tugging slightly to control the pace. “Fuck, yes,” you moan, looking directly into the camera lens while they feast on you.

[cckaddicted] HOLY SHIT [punish__me] two mouths on her tits im dying [cckaddicted] luckiest girl alive

“Their mouths feel so good,” you tell the chat, biting your lip as Jungkook bites down lightly. “You guys wish you were me right now, don’t you?”

[yn_righttit] I WOULD KILL TO BE U  [vante_fan95] how does it feel to live my dream

Taehyung isn't gentle. He sucks on you like a man starving, like he has been waiting years for this specific meal. As if he could read your thoughts, he unlatches and pulls back, leaving your nipple glistening with saliva. He looks up at you through his lashes, his lips wet and swollen.

“So sensitive,” he hums, licking his lips. “I thought about having these tits in my mouth so many times,” he confesses, his voice dropping lower. “God, I even dreamt about it.”

Hearing him admit that he fantasized about you makes you wet instantly.

Jungkook presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck, licking the sweat starting to gather there, while Taehyung is still nursing your swollen nipple.

You feel their hands sliding down your body. They graze over your ribs, your waist, and then slip between your spread thighs.

“So wet,” Taehyung murmurs against your nipple, his fingers brushing through your slick folds. Your thighs tremble under his touch. “You’re dripping, darling. We haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already soaking my hand.”

Finally, his mouth leaves your chest to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck. You thought it might be awkward having Taehyung touch you intimately for the first time, but his hand feels so natural there, so right.

“She loves the attention,” Jungkook hums, as his hand finds your clit. He circles it with his thumb, applying that firm pressure he knows you need. “Don’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” you pant, your hips bucking up to meet their hands.

Taking his time teasing your entrance first, Taehyung rubs your slick juices around the opening until you whine. Then, he slides just one finger inside, stretching you gently. You gasp, your head falling back against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispers, feeling your walls flutter around him as he adds a second finger, twisting his hand to hit your G-spot.

“That's it, love. Take his fingers like a good girl,” Jungkook encourages, murmuring right against your ear. He picks up the speed on your clit, his thumb moving in a blur over the swollen nub.

“You like having both of us touching you?” Taehyung says, pulling his face back to watch your expression. He pumps his fingers faster, thrusting deep into you. 

“Yes! Fuck, yes! It feels so good!”

“Show us,” Jungkook orders, nipping at your earlobe. “Show the camera how good it feels. Cum for us, pretty girl.”

“I’m close,” you sob. “I’m close!”

“Don’t hold back,” Jungkook adds. “Let go, baby. Show him how pretty you look when you cum.”

The orgasm hits you, making you scream, your pussy clamping down violently around Taehyung’s fingers. “Yeah, squeeze me,” Taehyung grins, keeping his fingers deep inside you. “Just like that.”

“There you go,” Jungkook praises, kissing your temple, his thumb continuing to rub your clit through the sensitive aftershocks. “Good girl. So fucking good.”

You’re still catching your breath when Jungkook glances at the monitor.

[imyourdaddy94] less talk more dick  [thirstkookiee] take everything OFF  [lickmejk] we want to see vante naked

Jungkook laughs, wiping a smudge of your slick from his lip. “They want to see what you’re working with,” he says, nudging Taehyung.

Taehyung smirks, standing up from the bed. “Well, I’m a man of the people.”

Jungkook follows his lead, standing up next to him. You stay seated, watching with wide eyes as they both hook their thumbs into their waistbands. You lean back on your hands, crossing your legs, feeling like the queen of the world with two handsome men standing before you, ready to fuck and please you.

Jungkook goes first. He shoves his sweats down his legs, stepping out of them to reveal his black boxer briefs. Then, he hooks his thumbs into the underwear, dragging them down.

You know him. You know his body. He’s thick, heavy, and undeniably big. Seeing him semi-hard and twitching always makes your mouth water.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes out, running a hand through his hair. He glances at Taehyung with a crooked grin, looking a little shy. “Actually kind of nerve-wracking doing this with another guy in the room,” he admits. 

Taehyung’s eyes drag over Jungkook’s body, lingering on the definition of his abs before dropping lower. His gaze fixes on Jungkook’s semi-hard length. “You look good,” Taehyung murmurs, staring at the twitching cock. “Really good.”

You bite your lip, watching the air practically sizzle between them.

Jungkook’s chest puffs out slightly at the compliment, his grin turning cocky. “Yeah?” He nods at Taehyung’s waistband. “Your turn then. Take it off.”

Taehyung is next. He grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it aside to reveal his bare chest, before pushing his sweatpants down, hooking his thumbs into his boxer briefs to drag them down in one go.

Your jaw literally drops.

He kicks the fabric away, standing fully nude now. You’ve seen it in his streams, sure, but seeing it in person is a completely different thing.

Holy shit, you think, staring at the monster between his legs. How is that even going to fit? It’s going to split me in half.

He is thick, incredibly long even when he’s not fully rock hard yet. You thought Jungkook was big, but Taehyung is on another level.

You watch them stand side-by-side, both half-hard and twitching, and your mouth practically waters. In a few minutes, you’re going to have both of those thick cocks inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. You might actually die of happiness tonight.

Taehyung catches you staring. He grins, stepping closer until his thighs brush against the mattress. “See something you like, darling?”

“Come here,” you breathe, curling your index finger to call them closer.

They sit back down on the edge of the bed, flanking you. Reaching out, you wrap one hand around Jungkook and the other around Taehyung.

Your palms slide up and down the shafts as you start to pump them. Jungkook fits your grip perfectly, hot and silky, a texture your hand knows by heart. Taehyung is thicker, heavier in your palm. You can’t even wrap your fingers all the way around him. As you work them both, the movement makes your tits jiggle.

[milky_way] look at those tits bounce  [vante_fan95] lucky bastards

“Damn,” Jungkook groans, ignoring the screen to lean in and kiss your neck. “He’s huge, baby.”

“He is,” you whisper. The initial fear you had is rapidly turning into excitement. Your thumb brushes over the broad head of Taehyung’s cock.

As you stroke Taehyung, you glance to your left, to Jungkook. But he isn't looking at you. He looks genuinely curious, his gaze fixed on the way your hand moves over Taehyung’s cock.

“Kook,” you murmur, nudging him gently. “You want to feel him?”

Jungkook swallows, looking at you, then back at Taehyung. “I…”

You know he wants to touch it, but he’s hesitant, keeping his own hands on your waist.

Earlier that day, in the quiet of the kitchen, Jungkook had confessed that he never thought Taehyung would be so open to interacting with him like this. He wanted to experiment, to push his boundaries, and he felt safe enough with Taehyung to try... but now that the moment is here, you can see the shyness creeping in.

“Here,” you whisper.

Taking the lead, you let go of Taehyung’s cock and grab Jungkook’s hand instead. His palm is hot and slightly damp with sweat. You guide his hand over, placing it directly onto Taehyung’s thick shaft.

Jungkook tenses for a moment and his fingers are stiff. Covering his hand with yours, you wrap his fingers firmly around the shaft, moving your hand to guide his up and down. Jungkook follows your lead, his grip relaxing as he starts to pump Taehyung tentatively.

Fascinated by the sight, he watches his own hand on Taehyung’s cock. “You’re so big,” Jungkook mutters, his stroke becoming more confident.

“Fuck… that feels good, Jungkook.”

Leaning in, you kiss Jungkook’s neck while your other hand continues to pump his shaft.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whisper against his skin. “Look at how much he likes it.”

But as you watch Taehyung’s cock harden even more under Jungkook’s touch, expanding to its full length, that panic flares in your gut again. It’s too big.

“Tae,” you whisper, looking between his legs. “I don’t know if I can take that. I’m being serious.”

He looks at you, his gaze heavy with lust even as Jungkook continues to pump him, making him hiss. “I know. I can’t just shove it in… mmm… I’d… fuck, Kook!”

Jungkook’s hand is moving faster now, stroking him with too much enthusiasm, and Taehyung’s hips buck involuntarily.

Reaching down, he covers Jungkook’s hand to stop the motion. Jungkook blinks, seemingly snapping out of a trance, his cheeks turning pink as he realizes how carried away he got.

“I’d hurt you,” Taehyung says breathlessly. “We need to get you ready first. Get you nice and wet. And I’m going to start by eating your pussy, sweetheart.”

“Lean back, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his hands gripping your waist to guide you.

He scoots backward until his shoulders hit the headboard, extending his long legs out on the mattress. You slide back with him, settling between his thighs until your back is pressed against his bare chest. It’s a solid, warm wall of muscle supporting you, leaving you completely exposed to the camera and to Taehyung.

Taehyung slides onto the mattress, crawling up until he settles between your legs. He lies flat on his belly, getting comfortable with his feet dangling off the edge.

“Perfect view,” Taehyung hums, his hands sliding up your calves to lift them. He drapes your legs over his shoulders so you’re wide open for him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he praises, running a thumb over your lips.

He dives right in, burying his face in your pussy, his tongue broad and flat as he licks a long, wet stripe from your opening up to your clit

Jungkook’s large hands move up to claim your tits. He kneads them possessively, his palms rough and warm against your sensitive skin. He plays with them just the way he knows you love, rubbing his palms firmly over the sensitive peaks before giving them a sharp pinch.

“Look at that, pretty girl,” Jungkook whispers, holding you tight against him. “Absolutely devouring you. I can’t blame him though, you have the tastiest pussy.”

Taehyung slides two fingers inside you. He scissors them deep inside your wet warmth, stretching your walls wide while his mouth keeps latched onto your clit. 

“It’s so good,” you whine, throwing your head back against Jungkook’s shoulder. “Oh God, Kook. So good.”

As you wiggle back, trying to get closer to Jungkook’s warmth, you feel the hard length of his cock pressing right between your ass cheeks.

“Enjoy it, baby. He is getting you nice and ready for us,” Jungkook whispers, biting your neck while his hands never stop working your tits. He brings one hand up, delivering a sharp, stinging slap to the side of your tit that makes you jump.

From where you are, pinned against Jungkook’s chest, you cannot see the monitor to check the image, but you can only imagine how obscene it looks. You make a mental note to watch the replay the second you go offline. There is no way you are missing out on seeing this view from the other side.

“God, she’s dripping,” Taehyung says, pulling back to look at the mess he’s made, chin wet with your juices. “Taste so good, darling. Jungkook was right, you really do have the tastiest pussy.”

He dives back in, pumping his fingers faster, mimicking the thrusts of a cock while his tongue licks rapidly.

“I’m, I’m gonna…!” you stutter, hips bucking off the mattress.

“Cum, baby,” Jungkook commands, pinching your nipples.

You scream as you orgasm, lifting your hips off the mattress as your body seizes up. Your pussy clamps down violently around Taehyung’s fingers.

“Yeah, squeeze me,” Taehyung growls, lapping up the fluids. “That’s a good girl.”

After a few seconds that feel like hours, you scramble up, your knees digging into the mattress. Jungkook’s hands are there instantly to support you. 

Pushing himself up from his stomach, Taehyung crawls up the mattress until he’s hovering directly over you. You are completely trapped now, sandwiched between Jungkook’s solid chest at your back and Taehyung’s in the front. It’s a tight squeeze, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

Taehyung leans in close. His lips are slick, glistening wet with your own juices. “Want a taste?” Taehyung asks, teasing.

You pucker your lips instinctively, waiting for the contact, but he breezes right past you. That’s when you realize he wasn’t talking to you at all. He was talking to Jungkook.

Your heart hammers against your ribs as Taehyung leans past you and Jungkook cranes his neck forward to meet him.  Their lips crash together inches from your nose. 

It’s not a quick peck. It’s filthy. You sit there frozen, watching your boyfriend open his mouth to taste you on another man’s tongue. 

You thought you’d feel a twinge of jealousy seeing Jungkook kiss someone else, or maybe that it would be awkward. But seeing him lean into it, watching him actually enjoy the taste of you on Taehyung’s tongue just sends a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. It feels possessive and voyeuristic all at once, getting a front row seat to this.

They break the kiss, and you watch Jungkook lick his lips. He looks completely out of it, like he’s trying to remember his own name.

“Now you,” Taehyung grins, turning his attention back to you.

He captures your lips, and Jungkook kisses the side of your neck. You all shift, sitting up properly so you can reach each other.

Then, Jungkook turns your head, claiming your mouth from Taehyung. Remembering exactly what Jungkook said at the cafe, Taehyung buries his face in Jungkook’s neck. He bites down lightly, sucking on the skin, making a Jungkook moan.

It becomes a messy, three-way tangle of lips and tongues, the three of you devouring each other until you lose track of whose tongue is whose. 

You pull back, breathless, your lips feeling swollen and thoroughly used. Looking between the two of them, panting, you realize you have two very hard problems to solve. You reach down, wrapping one hand around Jungkook and the other around Taehyung, and start pumping them both.

“So…” you tease, looking from Jungkook’s arousal to Taehyung’s impressive erection. You look back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Who’s first to fuck me?”

Jungkook’s hand lands on your hip, squeezing possessively. He looks at your hand moving up and down Taehyung’s shaft, then back at you with a smirk. “I think I better go first, baby.”

“Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, his gaze hungry. “If he tries to shove that inside you right now, he’ll tear you apart. I need to stretch you out first. Get you nice and loose for him.”

Taehyung chuckles, clearly pleased by the compliment. “He’s right, darling. Need to open you up real wide so you can take all of me inside that tight pussy.” He reaches down, his thumb brushing over your wet folds, smearing your juices around your opening.

“On your hands and knees,” Jungkook orders, tapping your ass. “Show the camera that beautiful view.”

You obey instantly, turning around and crawling to the center of the mattress. You plant your palms on the sheets, keeping your arms straight and arching your back so your ass is high in the air, presenting yourself to the camera. And to him.

Jungkook kneels behind you. You feel the hot, blunt head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance. He teases, rubbing the tip against your swollen folds, coating himself in your slick. He drags the head up and down your slit, making you whine in frustration.

“Tell me you want it,” Jungkook growls, slapping your ass.

“I want it,” you moan, pushing back against him.

“Want what?” he demands, leaning close to your ear. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Your cock,” you moan. “Put it in, Kook. Fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers.

He starts to push forward. Slowly. Forcing his way inside, letting you feel him filling you up. You gasp, your head hanging low as your walls stretch to accommodate him. It feels overwhelming, the sensation of being filled so completely, but the burn is exactly what you need.

Jungkook finally sinks to the hilt. He holds still for a second, letting you adjust, before he starts to pull back and thrust again.

“Fuck, you’re tight tonight,” Jungkook groans, his hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. “Is it because you’re hungry for his dick?”

You try to answer, but you can’t. He slams into you again, knocking the breath from your lungs before you can form a word.

“That’s it,” Jungkook praises, thrusting deeper. “Open up for me, baby. I’m gonna stretch this pretty pussy out so you can take him later.”

Taehyung moves around the bed, settling in front of you, close enough that you can feel his body heat radiating against your face.

Even with Jungkook filling you, even with your body already stretched and burning in the best way, you crave more than what you already have. One cock isn’t enough anymore.

You feel greedy. You feel greedy for him. For his hands on your tits and his cock in your mouth.

He wraps his hand around his shaft without thinking because that’s not what’s on his mind. He’s completely focused now on the way Jungkook is thrusting deep inside you, how your body moves forward every time his hips meet yours and how your tits sway with the impact.

Jungkook looks up from behind you, catching the way your eyes are glued to the cock in front of you. “Look at that size. I know you want that huge dick inside your mouth.” Jungkook says from behind you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Go on. Taste him, baby.”

Taehyung grips your jaw gently. Tilting your head back, he positions the broad head of his cock right there, brushing against your lips. It is so close that if you stuck your tongue out, you would taste him.

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung asks, his voice deep. “You want to suck my dick? Is one cock inside that pussy not enough for you?”

“No,” you whimper. “I want you too.”

He chuckles, a low rumble. “Greedy girl.”

He rubs the wet tip against your bottom lip, teasing you. When he pushes forward, you wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

But he’s holding back. His hands rest lightly on your shoulders, and he stays still, letting you do all the work. You bob your head, taking more of him into your mouth, but not all. He’s careful, almost too careful, treating your mouth like it’s fragile.

Jungkook notices and reaches around, his hand landing on your hip to pull you back harder onto his cock.

“Why are you being so gentle with her?” Jungkook grunts as he drives into you with a brutal thrust. You scream into Taehyung’s cock. “She’s not gonna break, Tae,” Jungkook insists.

As if to prove his point, he brings his hand down, slapping your ass.

Taehyung looks down at you. “Just didn’t want to choke her out. I’m big.”

“She loves it,” Jungkook promises, leaning forward to bite your shoulder. “You love choking on cock don't you, baby? You want him to use your mouth, right?”

You can’t speak with Taehyung’s thick cock halfway down your throat, so you moan and nod as best you can, looking up to meet Taehyung’s gaze.

“Go on,” Jungkook encourages. “Fuck her face. Use her mouth.”

Taehyuns’s hand winds into your hair, gripping the strands firmly at the back of your head to hold you steady.

“Alright,” he growls, his grip on your hair tightening. “Let’s see how deep you can take me, sweetheart.”

He starts to snap his hips forward, fucking into your mouth.

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook pants, watching the sight. “Stuffed tight from both ends. You look gorgeous.”

You can only moan around Taehyung’s length in response. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, while Jungkook slams into your ass, shaking your whole body.

“You’re doing so good,” Taehyung praises, watching his cock disappear past your lips. “Best cock sucker I’ve ever had. You’re handling me like a champ.”

“She really is,” Jungkook agrees, leaning over your back.

Above you, their eyes meet. Taehyung leans down, bracing one hand on the mattress next to your head. As he shifts his weight to get closer to Jungkook, he pushes forward. His thick shaft slides deeper into your throat, filling your mouth completely until your nose brushes against his pubic hair.

Suddenly, the movement stops. Jungkook halts his hips, and Taehyung freezes his thrusts.

Leaning forward over your back, Jungkook brings his face level with Taehyung’s. Right above you, while you are stuffed full from both ends, their lips meet. It’s overstimulating, feeling them use your body as a bridge to get to each other.

They melt into the kiss, pressing their lips together. You don’t stop, though, and keep swirling your tongue around what’s left of Taehyung’s cock in your mouth and clenching your walls tight around Jungkook.

They break the kiss and Jungkook’s pace picks up. He stops teasing and starts pounding into you, reaching a pace that feels almost desperate, like he is chasing something. His hand grips your waist, holding you in place so he can bury himself as deep as possible.

“I’m close,” Jungkook groans. He leans forward, reaching around to grab your tits, squeezing them hard as he keeps pushing, though he stays upright enough to drive his hips with force. “I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Do it, cum in her,” Taehyung encourages, pumping into your mouth one last time before pulling out to let you breathe.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he pours into you, hot jets of cum flooding your pussy, coating your walls.

Jungkook collapses forward against your back, trying to catch his breath. “I love you,” he pants against your cheek.

You turn your head, meeting his lips. The angle strains your neck, but you don’t care. You need his mouth. 

Jungkook kisses you deeply, not seeming to care at all that you had another man's cock in your mouth seconds ago. You wonder if he can taste Taehyung on your tongue.

When Jungkook blinks his eyes open, his vision is hazy. Taehyung is hovering right there, his hard length inches from both of your faces.

You can't resist and lean forward, licking the broad head like a lollipop, swirling your tongue over the slit.

“Fuck, that mouth,” Taehyung groans, watching you while his hand tangles in your hair. Jungkook leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and presses a kiss right there.

You pull back, leaving him glistening, and turn to your boyfriend with a mischievous smile. “Don’t you want to see what it feels like? Go on, baby. Give it a try.”

Jungkook looks at the cock, then up at Taehyung’s dark brown eyes and leans forward. You hold your breath, watching him. 

It’s almost adorable how careful he is at first, dragging his tongue over the head. But then the shyness fades, replaced by that competitive streak you know so well. He wants to be good at this.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, watching Jungkook taste him.

Opening his mouth, Jungkook takes just the head in, swirling his tongue. You join in, lowering your head to kiss the heavy weight of Taehyung’s balls, your tongue teasing the sensitive skin while Jungkook works the tip.

He glances up at Taehyung, searching for a sign, a flicker of pleasure, anything. And when a low groan escapes him, Jungkook smiles around the head of the cock, his mouth full, pleased with himself.

“Good… you’re doing so good, Kook,” you whisper, stroking his hair.

The tension in Jungkook’s shoulders softens, just a little, and he starts to move matching Taehyung’s small shifts. You can feel the tremor in Taehyung’s legs, the way he’s holding back, trying not to be too rough with Jungkook.

“Do you want him to fuck your mouth?” you ask boldly, running a hand up Taehyung’s thigh.

Jungkook nods eagerly, his eyes squeezed shut. You look up at Taehyung. You don't even have to say it, the glint in your eyes gives him the green light. Taehyung smirks, his hands moving to grip Jungkook’s hair.

“Alright,” Taehyung encourages, his voice deep with approval. “Let me see what you can do.”

He starts to thrust his hips, driving into Jungkook’s mouth.

“He’s good at this, isn’t he?” you tease, watching Jungkook’s cheek hollow.

“Fucking perfect,” Taehyung groans.

The praise seems to flip a switch in Jungkook. He makes a needy noise around the cock and his hand comes up to grip Taehyung’s thigh. 

Jungkook hums around the girth as he bobs his head faster to take more of his length. You watch, mesmerized as your boyfriend works another man’s cock like a pro. You keep your hand on Taehyung’s leg, feeling his muscles twitch under your palm with every thrust Jungkook takes.

“Stop,” Taehyung gasps, his fingers tightening in Jungkook’s hair to hold him still. “Stop, or I’m going to cum.”

He pulls his dick out of Jungkook’s mouth. Taehyung looks absolutely destroyed, his breathing heavy as he stares down at Jungkook’s spit-slicked lips.

“You did so good Kook,” you praise him, smoothing his damp hair back as he catches his breath, leaning into your touch.

Jungkook pulls out slowly from your body, his breath hitting the back of your neck. The sudden absence of his fullness leaves you feeling achingly empty, but only for a second. 

Then comes the mess. The hot, wet feeling of his seed leaking out of you, sliding down your inner thighs, dripping onto the white sheets.

“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes, staring at you. “You made her so messy.”

“Just getting her ready for that monster of yours,” Jungkook says, wiping a stray drop from your thigh. “She’s all slicked up for you now. Let’s get you on your back, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his hands on your waist helping you move.

You collapse onto your side and roll over to lay flat against the mattress, letting your legs fall open naturally.

Taehyung moves between your spread legs. “Mmmmh,” he hums, reaching down and rubbing the broad head of his cock directly against your entrance, coating himself in Jungkook’s cum. Knowing he's too big to just shove it in, even with the fluids acting as lube, he waits. He lines himself up, pressing just the head past your lips.

Letting out a sharp gasp, your hips lift off the mattress instinctively.

“You okay?” he asks, freezing. Worry flashes in his eyes.

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah. Yeah. I'm ok. Keep going.”

He pushes forward, and it feels completely different from Jungkook. He is thicker, stretching your walls until you feel like you might split open. You suck in a sharp gasp through your teeth as he continues to sink deeper, wondering how the hell all of him is supposed to fit.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, looking down at where you’re swallowing him. “Even after he stretched you out… It feels like you’re trying to milk me dry already.”

“It won’t fit,” you whimper, trying to relax your hips. “You’re too big.”

“I won’t force it. I’ll work with what fits. But I know this pretty pussy can take it.”

Jungkook moves to the side of the bed. “Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. He brushes the hair off your face, “Breathe, baby. Relax. You can take a little more.”

Knowing you need a distraction to relax, Jungkook lowers his head, latching onto your left tits. He draws the nipple deep into the warmth of his mouth, soothing you. The shot of pleasure distracts you, the tension relaxing out of your muscles as you focus on his mouth.

Taehyung pushes a few inches deeper. He grabs your other tit, tweaking the nipple.

“Is there much more?” you gasp, feeling stretched.

“Just a little bit more, sweetheart,” Taehyung promises. He holds perfectly still, letting your body adjust to his size.

“I’m so full,” you cry out, clutching at the sheets. “I can’t take any more.”

“You can do it,” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, kissing his way up to your jaw. “Just a few more inches, baby. If you could see yourself right now... You look so gorgeous taking his huge cock.” He bites your earlobe gently.

You gasp as he slides the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt. “There we go,” Taehyung groans. “Now you’re stuffed full.”

They give you a moment, letting your body adjust to the invasion. You breathe slowly, feeling your walls relax around Taehyung’s girth. When he sees your hips wiggle slightly, testing the feeling, he takes it as a sign to start moving, pulling back almost all the way before sliding back in. He watches your face closely, checking for any sign of pain, but all he sees is bliss.

His eyes drop to your bouncing tits.

“I was so jealous watching him fuck these the other night,” Taehyung smirks, giving your nipple a sharp tug. “Seeing that chain bounce against your skin drove me crazy.”

“We can use the chain later,” Jungkook agrees, lifting his head from your chest to watch.

Taehyung smiles, clearly liking that idea.

Next to you, Jungkook leans over, watching Taehyung fuck you, and slides his hand down between your bodies.

“You take him so well,” he murmurs, his fingers finding your clit. He slaps the swollen nub lightly, once, twice, making you jerk. “Gonna make you cum again,” Jungkook whispers, his thumb circling the sensitive spot while Taehyung stretches you from the inside.

“I–I can’t–” you stutter.

“Yes, you can,” Taehyung growls, thrusting harder. His hands move to your hips, pinning you down to the mattress.

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook urges. “Cum on my fingers.”

You shatter, your hips bucking wildly off the mattress as the orgasm crashes over you. You’re thrashing so hard that Taehyung, slick with your juices and Jungkook’s cum, slips right out of you. 

You don't even care, you're too busy seeing stars to notice the loss of fullness.

“Fuck,” Taehyung laughs breathlessly, hovering over your entrance.

Jungkook stops rubbing your clit. He sees what happened and reaches down wrapping his hand around Taehyung’s thick shaft, giving him a squeeze and pumping him a few times.

“He’s still so hard,” Jungkook murmurs, fascinated. He rubs the head of Taehyung’s cock against your wet clit, using the other man to tease you, before guiding the tip back to your opening.

“Does that feel good?” Jungkook asks, dragging the broad head of Taehyung’s cock over your sensitive nub. “Tell me, pretty.”

“Yes,” you whine.

Taehyung watches as Jungkook handles him while he watches your face change every time the head glides over your clit. It’s a tease for him too, watching his cock being used as a toy for your pleasure.

Jungkook presses the head of Taehyung’s cock firmly against your clit. Taehyung understands what he needs to do. He snaps his hips forward, grinding the head against your nub in short, shallow bursts.

They keep it up for a few agonizing minutes, teasing you until you’re whimpering and begging for him to stop teasing. Jungkook guides Taehyung forward, keeping his hand wrapped around the base of Taehyung’s dick until he slides safely back inside you.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, watching you swallow the girth again. “Such a cock greedy pussy.”

Watching his girlfriend getting fucked by another man, instead of the jealousy he thought he might feel, turns Jungkook on even more. You see his cock twitching near your face, stiffening back up rapidly.

“You’re hard again,” you whisper.

“Hard for you,” Jungkook admits, nudging his semi-erect length against your cheek. “You look so pretty. I’m so in love with you. I swear.”

You laugh at his sudden, breathless love proclamation. You turn your head, opening your mouth. “I want you in my mouth,” you mumble against his skin. “Please, Kook.”

Jungkook grabs his cock by the base and guides it forward. You capture the head between your lips, letting him fill the space in your mouth while your hand wraps around the shaft to handle the rest.

Instead of going back to your clit, Jungkook wraps his fingers around the base of Taehyung’s shaft. Every time Taehyung pulls out, Jungkook’s hand is there, stroking the exposed inches of the other man’s cock in time with the thrusts.

Taehyung groans, looking down at the sight of you being used by both of them, and Jungkook’s hand on his cock.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Taehyung pulls out abruptly. You look up at him, confused by the sudden loss. “Not inside,” he says, his voice thick. “I’m gonna fill that pussy up properly later. Right now I want to cover these tits.”

“Up,” Jungkook says, his voice strained as he pumps his own dick.

You crawl off the edge of the mattress and drop to your knees on the rug. They follow you off the bed, standing tall over you. The scene captured by the camera is award-winning material. You are on the carpet, looking up at two gorgeous men with their heavy cocks right in your face.

Reaching out, your fingers wrap around their shafts, pumping them slowly.

“So pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, looking down at you. “My beautiful girl.”

Leaning forward, you take Jungkook’s head into your mouth first. You suck hard before switching to Taehyung. Your mouth moves back and forth to taste them both until you get bold. 

Using your hands, you push their shafts together and hold them side-by-side. You know you cannot fit both in your mouth. Instead, you open wide, sealing your lips over the tips of both cocks at once, swirling your tongue over them.

Jungkook flinches as he feels the hot skin of Taehyung’s cock sliding against his own. The sight of them touching like that is so erotic you can’t think of anything else. His eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.

Taehyung groans as his hips snap forward. “I can’t hold it. I need to cum.”

He pulls away from your mouth.

Reacting instantly, you let go of their dicks. Your arms cross over your chest, pushing your tits together.

“Cum all over her tits,” Jungkook orders, pumping his own shaft as he watches.

Taehyung aims and strokes himself twice before he releases. Thick ropes of cum fire out, splashing across your chest, coating your collarbones and dripping down between the valley of your tits.

“Beautiful,” Taehyung sighs, panting.

Jungkook stands there breathing hard, his eyes glued to the white mess on your skin.  Taehyung shifts closer and drops to his knees. His leg bumps against yours as he invades your space.

“He needs to cum too,” Taehyung murmurs. A grin spreads across his face, wide and mischievous like a Cheshire cat.

His gaze drops to Jungkook’s twitching length and he leans down. He runs his tongue along the bottom of Jungkook’s shaft while you suck the head. Jungkook moans, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep himself standing.

You and Taehyung work together, licking and kissing the length of Jungkook’s hard cock. As you move, your faces draw closer until your lips meet around the throbbing shaft. 

It starts as a brush of skin, but deepens quickly. Taehyung releases Jungkook’s cock to cup your jaw with one hand, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours while his other hand strokes Jungkook’s balls.

The kiss slows down. Taehyung gently pulls back. He looks at your lips before looking up at Jungkook. Your eyes go wide as Taehyung opens his mouth and takes Jungkook in.

“Fuck,” Jungkook gasps, staring down as Taehyung bobs his head.

“Keep going,” you encourage, reaching out to stroke Taehyung’s hair. “He likes it when you swirl your tongue right under the tip.”

Taehyung follows your instructions. He makes a wet, slurping sound around Jungkook’s cock.

“Look at that, Kook,” you whisper, looking up at your boyfriend. “Does it feel good?”

“It feels fucking incredible,” Jungkook groans. His hips stutter. “I’m gonna blow.”

“Where do you want it?” you ask.

“Your mouth,” Jungkook gasps, looking down at you. “I want to cum in your mouth.”

Taehyung pulls off, leaving Jungkook glistening. You dive back in immediately and wrap your lips around Jungkook to accept his release. Taehyung leans in to kiss your neck. His hands slide over your cum-slicked tits to play with the mess he made on your skin.

Jungkook moans as he empties himself into your mouth. You hold the warm fluid and hum against his length until he’s dry. When he pulls out, you don’t swallow. Instead, you turn your head to Taehyung.

Knowing exactly what you want, he leans in and captures your lips. You open your mouth to pass Jungkook’s seed into his. It is messy, intimate, and incredibly hot. You press your chest against his. Your cum-covered tits smear against his bare chest, marking him.

Fingers weaving into Taehyung’s hair, you pull him closer. Jungkook watches from above, his eyes wide with awe. “That is so fucking hot.”

You pull apart, breathless. “Wow,” you laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

“Wow indeed, darling,” Taehyung grins, looking down at his chest, smeared with the evidence of what just happened.

Jungkook reaches down, gripping your arms to help you up from the floor. He pulls you close, ignoring the mess, and presses a possessive kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispers against your mouth.

Turning his attention to the desk, he leans forward to reach for the keyboard, but stops short of ending the stream. Instead, he pauses to check the monitor. 

[milky_way] i feel like i’m interrupting something [agust_d1ck93] the chemistry... holy shit  [vante_fan95] that felt so private i almost feel bad watching... almost

“Sorry, guys,” Jungkook chuckles. His voice is hoarse. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, catching his breath. “We kind of… forgot you were there for a minute.”

“Got a little carried away,” Taehyung adds. He leans into the frame and rests his chin on your shoulder. He winks at the lens. “But I think you enjoyed it.”

“I think I need a nap after that,” you giggle, leaning back against Jungkook’s chest. “Thanks for watching, guys.”

“We’re gonna head out,” Jungkook says, giving a tired, satisfied wave. “See you next time.”

He clicks the mouse and ends the live.

The room falls silent. Jungkook exhales a long breath, slumping back against the headboard. He looks at Taehyung, then at you.

“Everyone okay?”

“Better than okay,” Taehyung says. He leans back on his hands, his legs tangled with yours. “That was wild.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles. A genuine, tired smile breaks through. “We definitely gave them a show. I think we actually forgot we were streaming there for a minute.”

“Yeah, we definitely got lost in it,” Taehyung agrees with a grin.

Jungkook grabs the towel from the nightstand. Instead of cleaning himself, he reaches for you first. He wipes your face gently, cleaning off the sweat and fluids, then moves to your chest.

“You did good, baby,” Jungkook murmurs. He kisses your forehead. “You took both of us like a champ.”

He pauses, the towel resting on your stomach and looks over at Taehyung. “And… the other stuff. The stuff between us.”

Taehyung holds his gaze. He is open and curious. “Yeah? How was it for you?”

Jungkook looks down at his hands, then back up. A shy smirk touches his lips. “Different. But… good. Really good. I didn’t think I’d get that into it.”

“You definitely got into it,” you tease softly. You stroke Jungkook’s arm. “I saw you.”

Taehyung shifts. He pulls his legs away to stand up. He looks around for his discarded sweatpants.

“I should probably get going,” he says, though he moves slowly. “Let you guys clean up properly.”

“No,” you say immediately. You reach out to grab his hand. “Don’t go.”

Taehyung pauses. He looks down at you. “You sure? I don’t want to intrude if you guys need space.”

“Stay,” Jungkook adds, nodding. “Seriously. For dinner, at least.”

Taehyung’s smile widens. He sits back down on the edge of the bed. “Okay.”

“Good,” Jungkook says. He rubs his stomach. “Because I’m starving. We should order food.”

“Pizza?” you suggest.

“Pizza,” both men agree in unison.

A shower and a pizza delivery later, the energy in the apartment has shifted from frantic adrenaline to a lazy, contented haze. You’re sprawled out on the new beige sectional, a half-eaten slice of pepperoni pizza balancing on a paper plate on your knee.

You’re all clean now, the sweat and fluids washed away. Jungkook lent Taehyung a pair of black gym shorts, and he’s shirtless, leaning back in the corner of the sofa. Jungkook is wearing similar shorts, sitting on the floor with his back resting against the cushions. You’re wearing nothing but one of Jungkook’s oversized black t-shirts and a pair of cotton panties.

Jungkook chews thoughtfully, looking up at Taehyung.

While Taehyung was in the shower, you and Jungkook had a quiet moment. This was supposed to be a bucket list item. Just something fun to try once. But neither of you expected it to feel this natural.

“I think we should do this again,” Jungkook admits, peeling the label on his beer bottle. “And not just for the camera. I want to try it again just for us. In private.”

Taehyung smiles, wiping a crumb from his lip. “I’d like that. A lot. Honestly, I didn’t expect to feel this comfortable with you guys. Usually, three feels like a crowd, but I don't know... this feels right.”

You look between them, feeling that familiar heat sparking in your belly despite the exhaustion. You set your pizza slice down on the coffee table, abandoning it completely.

“Speaking of doing things again…” you murmur, crawling across the cushions toward Taehyung.

Taehyung raises a brow, watching you approach. “Yeah?”

“You said something earlier,” you remind him, stopping right in front of him. You place a hand on his bare knee. “You said you’d fill my pussy properly later. But you haven’t done it yet.”

Taehyung laughs, surprised. “You still have energy after all that?”

“She’s insatiable,” Jungkook chuckles from the floor, leaning his head back to watch upside down. “Go on, baby. Get what you want.”

Encouraged, you climb onto Taehyung’s lap. You straddle his waist, your thighs bracketing his hips. You can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. You wrap your arms around his neck and sink into a slow, lazy kiss. You grind your hips down, rubbing your clad crotch against the bulge forming in his borrowed shorts.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans against your lips, his hands settling on your waist.

Jungkook watches from the floor, a slice of pizza in hand, enjoying the show. “You look good on him,” he praises. “Like you belong there.”

Breaking the kiss to look down at Jungkook, you tease, “You like watching?”

“I love it,” Jungkook confirms. “I love seeing him touch you.”

Taehyung moves. His hands slide up your waist, gripping the hem of the oversized t-shirt. “I didn’t get enough time with these earlier,” he murmurs. “I want to enjoy them now.”

Lifting your arms, you help him pull the shirt over your head and toss it aside, leaving you in just your underwear. Taehyung groans, his gaze dropping to your tits. He reaches out, cupping them in his large palms. “Definitely the most perfect pair of tits I’ve seen in my life.”

“I agree,” Jungkook says, watching from below. “You should have seen the numbers from the tit stream we did. She broke records that night. Thousands of people watching, and she loved every second of it. Didn’t you, baby?”

“I love it,” you whimper as Taehyung tweaks your nipple.

He leans forward, capturing a nipple in his mouth, sucking as you keep grinding against his cock.

“So, about that nipple piercing situation,” Taehyung mumbles against your skin, giving your nipple a sharp tug. “Was that just for show, or are you actually getting them done?”

“It’s real,” you gasp. “He is doing them for me next week.”

“Good,” Taehyung growls. “I can’t wait to feel them in my mouth when I suck on these. But only if you invite me back.”

“Oh, you’re definitely coming back,” Jungkook says from the floor. “I think this is going to be a regular thing.”

While Taehyung keeps sucking at your tits, Jungkook moves from his spot on the floor and climbs onto the couch behind you.

He shoves his shorts down, freeing his hardening cock. “Open up, baby,” he orders.

Your head turns to the side. Jungkook leans forward, pressing the head of his cock against your lips. You open wide, taking him into your mouth while Taehyung continues to feast on your nipples, making you moan.

“Are you gonna cum, darling?” Taehyung asks, biting down lightly on your nipple. “Without even taking your panties off?”

“Yes,” you whine, pulling off Jungkook to gasp. The pleasure spikes straight down to your clit. “Please, Tae.”

“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” he teases, pulling back.

Taehyung slides his hand beneath the waistband of your cotton panties, his fingers diving straight for your heat. He hums, sounding pleased.

"Soaking wet," he murmurs, sliding a finger effortlessly along your slick folds. "I don't think we need to do much prep, do we? You're already ready for him."

"I'm always ready for him," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"Good," Jungkook says, kicking his shorts completely off.

You look back. He’s fully naked, his cock rock hard and bobbing with his movement. He steps closer to the couch, his eyes locked on the curve of your ass.

"Lean forward," Jungkook orders softly.

Taehyung leans back against the cushions, getting comfortable. You adjust your legs, straddling his waist so you’re facing him directly and lean forward, pressing your chest against his bare skin. 

Your nipples, still sensitive and swollen from his mouth, drag deliciously against his chest.

You push your hips back, offering yourself up perfectly to Jungkook, who climbs onto the sofa behind you. 

"Perfect," Jungkook groans, his hands settling on your hips to spread your cheeks slightly.

Lining himself up, Jungkook pushes forward, the blunt head of his cock stretching you open. You gasp, burying your face in Taehyung’s neck as Jungkook sinks into you, filling you up completely.

“You look so beautiful,” Taehyung breathes, his hands coming up to cup your face.

You melt under his gaze, feeling safe and adored, sandwiched between them. Jungkook starts to move. He pulls out and thrusts back in. With every slam of his hips, your body is pushed forward into Taehyung.

"Kiss him," Jungkook commands, his voice tight. "I want to watch you kiss him while I fuck you."

You lift your head, locking eyes with Taehyung. He smiles, an intense, hungry look in his eyes, and captures your lips. You moan into his mouth every time Jungkook hits deep inside your pussy.

"Yes," Jungkook praises from behind, watching the two of you connect. “You look so beautiful. I love you so much.”

“Up,” Taehyung says.

Jungkook pulls out of you, leaving you empty. Before you can even adjust, Taehyung stands up from the couch, taking you with him. He turns you around so you are facing outward, away from him. He hooks his powerful arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into the air.

He holds you securely, his grip firm, exposing your wet entrance perfectly to Jungkook, who is standing right there waiting.

“That’s a hot angle,” Jungkook breathes.

He steps in close, gripping your hips to hold you against Taehyung’s chest. He lines himself up and pushes inside, filling you while you’re suspended in the air.

Taehyung groans as the impact of Jungkook’s thrusts rocks your body against his. He leans his forehead against the back of your head.

“Kiss me,” Jungkook demands, leaning up to reach you. He sounds needy now. “Please.”

You lean down to meet him. Jungkook stretches up, capturing your lips, but Taehyung isn't done with you either. He leans around your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin. It becomes a messy, chaotic exchange, their mouths fighting for yours while Jungkook snaps his hips, driving his cock into you.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook gasps. You feel his pace increasing, getting desperate, his thrusts becoming raw and unpolished. “Tae, hold her tight for me.”

He thrusts hard, three, four times, before groaning into the kiss, spending himself inside you for the second time tonight.

Instead of pulling out immediately, Jungkook presses his hips flat against your ass, keeping himself buried deep inside you. You can feel him twitching, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. You hang there, suspended in the arms of one lover while filled by the other, breathless and thoroughly ruined.

Jungkook leans forward, catching Taehyung’s lips in a heated kiss over your shoulder.

Finally, he pulls out, panting and Taehyung gently lowers you to the floor. Your legs feel like jelly, and you stumble forward into Jungkook’s arms, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you,” you whimper, holding onto him for support.

“I love you too,” he whispers, kissing your hair.

Behind you, you hear the rustle of fabric. Taehyung shoves the borrowed gym shorts down his legs and kicks them away, standing completely naked.

“My turn,” he murmurs.

He turns you around, bending you over the arm of the couch. He leans in close to press a soft kiss to your shoulder blade while the broad head of his cock nudges your slit, pushing the first few inches inside. 

Since Jungkook just stretched you out and left you soaking wet with his release, on top of all the play from earlier in the live stream, Taehyung slides in much easier than before.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his hands soothing your hips. “You can take it…” He snaps his hips forward to drive past your clenched muscles. “Just a little deeper.” He sinks to the base, filling you completely with his thick girth. “There,” he sighs, pressing his chest against your back. “Fits perfectly now.”

A moan escapes you as you look over your shoulder at him. "Make me feel good, Tae... please," you whisper.

"My pleasure, darling," he murmurs against your skin. He leans forward, wrapping his large hands around your tits to hold on tight. 

He pulls back until he is almost out, then slams his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt with a brutal thrust before he starts pumping into you.

Jungkook stands nearby, gasping softly as he watches. He is so turned on by the sight of pleasure on your face that he feels like he could cum right there without even touching himself. But as he watches Taehyung pound into you, a different feeling spikes in his chest. He wonders, just for a fleeting second, what it would feel like to be in your place, pinned down and filled up by Taehyung.

"Oh my fucking God!" you scream.

The sound snaps Jungkook back to reality.

“Jungkook,” you whine, reaching out blindly until your fingers latch onto his bare arm, tugging him closer.

Jungkook steps into your line of sight, capturing your lips while Taehyung pounds you from behind. You’re surrounded by them. Taehyung’s hands claiming your tits, his cock stretching you, and Jungkook’s mouth on yours. 

You think to yourself that if karma is real, you must have been a saint in a past life. Or maybe a sinner, considering how good being bad feels right now.

"My pretty girl…You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen," Jungkook growls, breaking the kiss to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. "Such a good girl for us."

“What about me?” Taehyung pants from behind you, never stopping the deep thrusts of his dick inside you.

Jungkook leans forward over your shoulder, meeting Taehyung halfway to crush their lips together, sealing you between their bodies.

“Kook, please!” you cry out, your voice wrecked and needy. "I need you!"

Jungkook drops to his knees instantly, spreading your thighs a little wider with his hands, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs to keep you open. He buries his face between your legs, positioning himself directly beneath Taehyung’s thrusting shaft to latch onto your clit. Every time Taehyung slams his hips against your ass, his balls slap against Jungkook's chin.

“Fuck!” you scream.

Taehyung pumps harder, slamming against your ass, while Jungkook’s tongue works your clit in time with the thrusts.

You climax violently, your walls clamping down on Taehyung’s cock. The feeling of your orgasm squeezing him pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Taehyung roars.

He yanks hard on your nipples, twisting them sharply as he erupts. He buries himself deep, pouring his cum inside you, mixing his fluids with Jungkook’s.

For a long moment, nobody moves. Jungkook stays between your legs, lazily sucking on your swollen clit, keeping you on the edge of pleasure, while you remain completely full of Taehyung. His chin rests on your shoulder, his hands idly playing with your nipples, tweaking them gently.

Eventually, Taehyung groans and pulls back, pressing a tender kiss to the center of your spine. He slides out of you, as a mix of fluids starts to drop from your entrance, dripping down your thighs.

Jungkook lifts his head. Seeing the mess, he leans forward, pressing his mouth right against your opening. He licks you clean, humming against your skin, swallowing everything the two of them poured into you.

“God,” Taehyung breathes, watching him.

Jungkook finally pulls back, wiping his mouth, looking satisfied. He pushes himself up from the floor, rising to his full height. You get up from the couch to stand before him, ignoring your trembling legs to wrap your arms around his neck. 

You look at him with love in your eyes, leaning up to kiss him softly. Behind you, Taehyung is still slumped against the cushions, panting as he watches.You break the kiss and turn. 

Reaching out, you clutch Taehyung's arm. “You’re staying,” you state. It’s not a question. You have a massive king-sized bed and you intend to put all that real estate to good use tonight.

“Yeah, you're not going anywhere,” Jungkook agrees, leaning down to capture Taehyung’s lips.

Taehyung smiles, tired but his eyes shine with happiness. He wraps his hand over yours. “Yeah. I’m staying.”

“Good,” you murmur, leaning against Jungkook’s side but reaching out to take Taehyung’s hand. “Because I don’t think I can walk to the bedroom without help.”

“I got you,” Taehyung says, swinging you up into his arms one last time.

You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head against him. “I think I’m going to need another shower,” you mumble against his chest.

“We can take one together,” Jungkook suggests, slapping your ass playfully as he leads the way down the hall. “You know, save water.”

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In the beginning of your relationship, the sex had been good enough to leave you content. It wasn’t mind-blowing or adventurous, but it was warm and loving and enough to make you curl into him afterward with a sleepy smile. Over the last couple of years though, things had slowly changed. The spark had dimmed into something mechanical, almost routine. You found yourself lying there more often than not, faking soft little moans so he wouldn’t feel bad, while the ache between your legs only grew more frustrated. Sometimes you wondered if he noticed how often you slipped away afterward. Tonight, you knew he did. You could feel it in the way his body had tensed just slightly when he pulled out, the unspoken awareness hanging heavy between you.

Soobin shifted beside you, the mattress dipping as he rolled over. His arm draped loosely across your waist for a moment before he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there like an apology he didn’t quite know how to voice. “Goodnight, baby,” he whispered, voice already thick and sleepy. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to sound normal.

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, turning your head just enough to brush your nose against his shoulder.

You waited in the dark, listening carefully as his breathing gradually slowed and deepened. Minutes stretched out, each one feeling longer than the last. When you were finally sure he was fully asleep, you slipped out from under his arm with practiced care, trying not to disturb the mattress too much. The cool air of the room hit your bare legs as you stood, and you padded quietly to the bedside drawer. Your fingers closed around the smooth, familiar shape of your vibrator, the one you’d come to rely on more than you wanted to admit. The weight of it in your palm felt almost comforting now.

You tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door behind you with a soft click, locking it out of habit even though Soobin was dead to the world. The small nightlight cast a gentle golden glow across the tiles as you leaned back against the sink counter. Heart still racing from the unresolved tension in your body, you hiked up the oversized t-shirt you’d thrown on and parted your thighs. The moment the buzzing toy pressed against your swollen, neglected clit, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. This was never fine. This was intense, almost desperate— the sharp pleasure you craved but could no longer get from the man sleeping in the next room.

Your free hand gripped the edge of the counter as you worked the vibrator in slow, teasing circles, then faster, chasing the release that had been denied to you earlier. Your mind wandered while your hips jerked against your hand, thoughts drifting dangerously toward the crumpled business card you’d tucked away in your purse weeks ago. Jeon Jungkook. Licensed Sex Therapist. Specialist in couples’ intimacy issues. You’d stared at that card so many times, equal parts ashamed and curious. The glowing reviews online had mentioned how thorough he was… how hands-on.

Your thighs trembled as the pressure finally built to its peak. You bit down hard on your lip to stay quiet, eyes squeezing shut while the orgasm crashed over you in strong, pulsing waves. For a few blissful seconds, everything else disappeared— the frustration, the guilt, the growing distance between you and Soobin. Only the sharp pleasure remained. But as the high faded and you caught your breath under the dim nightlight, the reality settled back in. This couldn’t keep going on like this. Something had to change.

The next day dawned gray and quiet, the kind of overcast morning that made the apartment feel smaller than it was. You woke up before Soobin, his arm still loosely draped over your waist from the night before. For a long moment you just lay there, staring at the faint crack in the ceiling that had become an unwilling witness to so many disappointing nights. Your body still carried the faint ache of unresolved need, even after last night’s secret session in the bathroom. The memory of the vibrator’s buzz and the sharp, guilty pleasure it brought made your thighs press together under the sheets.

All day the business card burned a hole in your pocket.

You went through the motions— making coffee, answering emails, attending meetings, but your mind kept circling back to it. Should I say something? What if he gets defensive? What if he thinks I’m unhappy with him as a person and not just… this? The card felt heavy, its edges sharp against your fingertips every time you brushed your hand over your pocket. At lunch you pulled it out in the bathroom stall just to stare at the elegant black text again: Jeon Jungkook, Licensed Sex Therapist. Specialist in Couples’ Intimacy & Desire. Your stomach twisted with nerves and something else, something hotter and more dangerous.

By the time evening came, the anxiety had twisted into a constant, low hum beneath your skin. You cooked dinner in silence while Soobin set the table, the two of you moving around each other with the familiar, gentle choreography of a couple who had been together for years. Pasta with creamy tomato sauce, garlic bread, a simple salad, comfort food on a night that felt anything but comfortable. The apartment smelled warm and safe, yet your heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Halfway through the meal, you couldn’t take it anymore.

Your fork paused above your half-eaten plate, twirling a strand of pasta that you no longer had any appetite for. Soobin was talking softly about his day, something about a deadline at work, but the words barely registered. Your fingers trembled as they slipped into your pocket and pulled out the slightly creased business card. Without a word, you slid it across the wooden table until it rested beside his glass of water.

Soobin’s voice trailed off. He looked down at the card, fork hovering in mid-air for a second before he slowly set it down. The quiet clink of metal against the plate sounded impossibly loud. You held your breath, chest tight, watching his face as he picked up the card with long, elegant fingers. His eyes scanned the text once, then again, more carefully. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

You waited for confusion. For hurt. For anger, maybe. Instead, Soobin let out a long, slow sigh.

It wasn’t the frustrated kind you’d feared. It was… relief. Deep, exhausted relief. His shoulders sagged as he placed the card back on the table, turning it over once between his fingers before looking up at you. His eyes were soft, a little sad, but strangely calm.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard, nodding. Your voice came out smaller than you wanted. “Yes. I… I know things haven’t been great. Between us. In bed. I know you’ve felt it too.”

Soobin leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the card for another long moment, then looked at you again— really looked at you. There was no defensiveness in his gaze, only a quiet acknowledgment that made your throat tighten.

“I have,” he admitted, voice low. “I’ve felt it for months. Every time I touch you and you don’t… every time you make those little sounds like you’re trying to spare my feelings.” He gave a small, self-deprecating smile that broke your heart a little. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I don’t want you anymore, because I do. So fucking much. I just… I don’t know how to fix it.”

The honesty in his words made your eyes sting. You reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it gently. For the first time in a long time, it felt like you were really seeing each other again. “I don’t want to keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not,” you whispered. “I think… maybe we need help. Real help. From someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Soobin glanced back down at Jungkook’s name on the card. His thumb brushed over the printed letters almost absentmindedly. After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. “If you’re sure you want to do this… then I’m in. We’ll do it together.”

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, a strange mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in your stomach. The decision was made. The appointment would be made.

The waiting room of Jeon Jungkook’s private practice was quieter than you expected. Soft ambient music played low in the background, something instrumental and soothing that did little to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You sat on a sleek gray couch beside Soobin, your hand resting loosely in his lap while his thumb brushed slow, absentminded circles over your knuckles. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and clean linen. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in natural light, but the tension in your chest made everything feel slightly unreal.

You had been nervous all morning. The drive here had been mostly silent, both of you lost in your own thoughts, but now that you were actually here, sitting in this elegant, minimalist office, the nerves had twisted into something sharper. A low, thrilling hum of excitement sat right beneath the anxiety. Your thighs pressed together under your sundress as you replayed the glowing reviews in your head. Thorough. Transformative. Life-changing.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity.

Every time you heard footsteps in the hallway, your breath would catch, only for the sound to fade again. Soobin squeezed your hand gently, offering a small, reassuring smile, but you could see the same mixture of uncertainty and hope in his eyes. He looked handsome today in his button-up shirt, but even that familiar sight couldn’t stop the restless energy buzzing under your skin.

Finally, the door opened.

Jeon Jungkook stepped inside, and for a moment the world seemed to tilt.

He was stunning. Easily one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with a quiet, confident grace that immediately filled the room. His black hair was slightly tousled, falling over his forehead in a way that looked effortlessly perfect. Sharp jawline, full lips, and dark, piercing eyes framed by long lashes. He wore a fitted black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing tattoos that disappeared beneath the fabric, and tailored slacks that accentuated his powerful thighs. The subtle scent of his cologne, something woody and expensive, reached you as he closed the door behind him.

You couldn’t stop staring.

Jungkook didn’t speak right away. He crossed the room and settled into the large leather chair across from you, clipboard in hand. For several long minutes he simply read over his notes, his expression calm and focused. The silence was heavy. You found yourself tracing the line of his neck, the way his fingers held the pen with quiet strength, the faint flex of muscle in his forearm as he turned a page. Heat crept up your neck. Soobin shifted beside you, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man in front of you.

After what felt like forever, Jungkook finally looked up.

His eyes met yours first, then shifted to Soobin. A small, professional smile curved his lips, warm, but with something unreadable flickering behind it. “Hello,” he said, voice smooth and low, like velvet dragged over stone. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. Thank you for waiting. I’ve reviewed the intake forms you filled out online.” He set the clipboard on his lap and leaned back slightly, giving you both his full attention. “So… why don’t you tell me what brought you here today?”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. Soobin gave your hand another squeeze, silently encouraging you to start. Your voice came out softer than intended as you began to speak.

You told him everything. How the sex had been good in the beginning, warm, loving, safe. How over the past couple of years it had slowly become routine and unsatisfying. You described lying beneath Soobin, faking soft moans while your body remained tense and frustrated. The mechanical rhythm, the lack of real spark, the growing ache that no amount of “fine” could satisfy. You mentioned slipping away to the bathroom at night with your vibrator, chasing the intense pleasure your boyfriend could no longer give you. Your cheeks burned as you spoke, but Jungkook’s gaze never wavered. He listened with complete focus, occasionally nodding or jotting something down on his clipboard.

Soobin chimed in quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability. He admitted feeling the distance growing between you two. How he could sense you weren’t fully there with him anymore, how guilty it made him feel, how much he still wanted you but didn’t know how to reach you the way he used to. He spoke about the pressure of wanting to please you and constantly falling short.

Jungkook listened intently the entire time.

His dark eyes flicked between the two of you, absorbing every word. Every so often he would write something down in neat, precise strokes, his pen moving across the paper with a soft scratch that somehow felt intimate in the quiet room. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t offer empty reassurances. He simply absorbed it all, head slightly tilted, expression thoughtful and impossibly focused. You found yourself wondering what exactly he was writing. What he was thinking. Whether he could already picture exactly how to fix what was broken between you.

When you both finally fell silent, the room felt heavier than before. Your heart was racing, thighs warm, a traitorous pulse beating between your legs as you watched Jungkook tap his pen against the clipboard once, twice, before setting it down.

“I appreciate how open you’ve both been so far,” he began, eyes flicking between you and Soobin. “But to truly help, I need to understand the specifics. The details matter. How often do you have sex currently? How long do your sessions usually last, from start to finish? And most importantly… what does it actually look like when you’re together?”

You felt heat bloom across your chest and climb up your neck. Soobin’s hand tightened slightly around yours, his palm growing warmer. Jungkook waited patiently, giving you both space, but his dark eyes were sharp, missing nothing. When neither of you spoke immediately, he continued gently, guiding the conversation. “Let’s start with positions,” he said, tone professional yet undeniably intimate. “What positions do you usually use? Do you switch often? How does foreplay factor in— duration, techniques? And how long does penetration usually last before one or both of you finishes?”

The questions landed heavily in the quiet room. You swallowed, mouth dry, your sundress suddenly feeling too thin against your skin. Jungkook’s gaze settled on you expectantly, patient but commanding. There was something about the way he looked at you— focused, knowing, like he could already see the frustration coiled tight in your body, that made your pulse throb between your legs.

You took a shaky breath and forced the words out, voice barely above a whisper at first. “We… we mostly just do missionary,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “It’s what feels most natural for us, I guess. Comfortable. Soobin on top, me on my back. Sometimes I’ll ride him, cowgirl, but not very often. And when I do… there’s not much vigor to it. I get tired quickly, or it just doesn’t feel… right.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, writing something down in those neat strokes. The scratch of his pen seemed louder than it should have been. He didn’t look surprised or judgmental. Instead, his expression remained thoughtfully neutral, though you swore you caught the faintest flicker of something darker, interest, perhaps, behind his eyes.

“And how long does it usually last?” he asked, voice smooth. “From the moment clothes come off to when it’s over. Be honest.”

Soobin cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably beside you. His ears had turned pink. “Maybe… ten to fifteen minutes?” he offered quietly. “Sometimes less. I try to hold out, but…”

You squeezed his hand, both ashamed and relieved to finally say it aloud. “It’s not that it’s bad,” you added quickly, though the words felt hollow even to you. “It’s just… short. And always the same. Missionary with him above me, moving steadily until he finishes. I rarely do on my own during it. When I ride him, I try to move, but it feels awkward. Like I don’t know how to make it feel good for either of us anymore. There’s no real… intensity. No roughness. No experimentation.”

Jungkook listened with complete focus. His full lips pressed together in thought as he processed your words. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, closing some of the distance between you. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you, warm, masculine, expensive. “No oral?” he asked calmly. “No doggy style? No standing positions, no restraints, no toys during sex together? You mentioned using a vibrator alone at night, does Soobin ever use it on you? Or watch you use it?”

Each question felt like a layer being peeled back. You squirmed in your seat, painfully aware of the growing wetness between your thighs. The way Jungkook spoke, so direct, so clinical, yet dripping with unspoken promise, made your mind race with images you knew you shouldn’t be having in this moment. Him. Those tattooed arms. That confident grip. Showing you exactly what you’d been missing.

Soobin shook his head slowly. “We’ve tried oral a few times, but… it doesn’t last long. And no, we’ve never really done any of the other stuff. It just never felt necessary before. Or maybe we didn’t know how.”

You nodded in agreement, biting your lip. “It’s always been vanilla. Safe. But now it feels too safe. Too… predictable. I love him. I do. But I lie there wondering if this is just how it’s going to be forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary before he wrote a few more lines. The silence that followed was thick with tension. He finally set the pen down and looked at you both, his expression composed but carrying an undeniable edge of authority. “I understand,” he said, voice dropping slightly. “You’re stuck in a very narrow script. Missionary and occasional cowgirl with minimal energy or variation, that explains a lot about the frustration you’re both feeling. Your bodies have adapted to routine. Comfort has replaced desire.”

Jungkook set his clipboard aside completely now, the soft thud of it hitting the side table sounding final. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and fixed both of you with a steady, intense gaze. The professional mask was still there, but something sharper and more commanding lingered just beneath it.

“I’ve heard enough to see the pattern clearly,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Words and explanations can only go so far. At this point, the most effective way for me to help is through demonstration. I’d like to show Soobin exactly how to touch you, how to build real desire, and how to awaken the parts of your body that have been neglected.”

He let the words settle in the heavy silence of the room before turning his full attention to you. “I won’t do anything without your explicit consent,” Jungkook continued, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “This would involve me touching you directly while Soobin watches. I’ll start slow. I’ll show him how to kiss you, how to touch you, how to read your body’s responses. If at any point you want to stop, you say the word and everything ends immediately.”

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest. Heat flooded your face, your neck, and lower. You could feel Soobin’s hand tense in yours, his breathing shallow beside you. For a long moment, the only sound was the soft ambient music and the rush of blood in your ears.

Jungkook waited patiently, giving you time. His gaze never wavered— calm, confident, and impossibly magnetic. You swallowed hard, throat dry. Nervous energy twisted in your stomach, but underneath it, something hotter and more dangerous stirred. A deep, aching curiosity. Excitement. “Yes,” you whispered, voice barely audible at first. Then stronger, “Yes… I want that.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. He glanced at Soobin. “And you? Are you comfortable with me demonstrating on your girlfriend while you observe?”

Soobin hesitated for only a second, then gave a slow nod, his cheeks flushed. “If she wants it… then yes.” Jungkook stood up smoothly, moving with that quiet, predatory grace. He crossed the short distance between his chair and the wide, plush chaise lounge where you and Soobin were seated. He extended his hand to you.

“Come here,” he said softly. “Lie back and get comfortable.”

Your legs felt unsteady as you stood. Soobin released your hand, and you moved to the chaise, heart pounding so hard you were sure they could both hear it. You lay back against the soft cushions, your sundress riding up slightly against your thighs. Jungkook sat on the edge beside you, the heat of his body immediately noticeable. He was so close now. The scent of his cologne, the faint warmth radiating from his broad frame, the way his button-up shirt stretched across his chest, it was overwhelming.

He looked down at you, eyes dark and focused. “Relax for me,” he murmured. “We’re going to start very slow.” Jungkook leaned in, one hand gently brushing your hair away from your neck. His breath ghosted over your skin first, sending shivers racing down your spine. Then his lips pressed softly just below your ear. The kiss was feather-light at first, warm, deliberate. He took his time, kissing down the sensitive column of your neck with slow, lingering presses of his mouth. Each one felt intentional, like he was learning the map of your reactions.

A shaky exhale left your lips. Your eyes fluttered half-closed as he kissed lower, finding the spot where your neck met your shoulder and sucking gently. The wet heat of his tongue traced a small circle there, and your back arched instinctively. One of his hands slid up your side, slow and confident, until his large palm cupped your breast through the thin fabric of your dress. He squeezed gently, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing strokes until it hardened under his touch.

“See how she responds when you take your time?” Jungkook said quietly, speaking to Soobin without pulling his mouth away from your neck. His voice had dropped even lower. “Don’t rush straight to the obvious places. Build it. Make her feel wanted.”

He kneaded your breast with just the right amount of pressure, rolling your nipple between his fingers over your dress, while his mouth continued its slow exploration of your neck and collarbones. Soft, open-mouthed kisses. The occasional gentle scrape of teeth that made your thighs press together. Your breathing had already grown uneven, small sounds escaping you that you didn’t even try to hold back.

Jungkook’s free hand rested on your waist, holding you in place as he shifted slightly closer. The weight and warmth of him beside you made your head spin. Every touch was precise, controlled, and devastatingly effective. You could already feel yourself getting wet, arousal pooling between your legs far faster than it ever did with Soobin.

Soobin sat quietly in the chair nearby, eyes wide and fixed on every movement. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, breathing audible. Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at your face, his thumb still lazily circling your nipple. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “How does that feel?” he asked you, voice husky. “Be honest.”

You could barely form words. Your neck tingled where his mouth had been, your breast warm and heavy under his hand. “It feels… really good,” you breathed, cheeks burning.

A satisfied smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips. “Good,” he murmured, leaning back down. “Then let’s continue.” Jungkook’s hands moved with deliberate confidence as he sat up slightly on the edge of the chaise. His dark eyes never left your face, reading every flicker of nervousness and arousal that crossed it. “Let’s remove this,” he murmured, voice low and reassuring. “I want you to feel everything without barriers.”

His fingers found the hem of your sundress, slowly sliding it upward. The fabric whispered against your skin as he lifted it inch by inch, exposing your thighs, then your hips, then the soft curve of your stomach. You raised your arms obediently, heart hammering against your ribs. With one smooth, practiced motion, Jungkook pulled the dress up and over your head, leaving your hair slightly tousled. He set the garment aside neatly on a nearby chair, his gaze roaming over your body now clad only in your bra and matching underwear.

The cool air of the room kissed your newly exposed skin, making you shiver. You felt incredibly vulnerable under their combined stares— Soobin’s wide-eyed and tense from his seat, and Jungkook’s dark, hungry, yet still controlled. Jungkook hummed softly in approval, his large hands returning to your body immediately.

He leaned down again, lips finding your neck once more. This time his kisses were deeper, more possessive, sucking gently at your pulse point while one hand cupped your breast through the thin lace of your bra. His thumb brushed over your nipple in slow, teasing circles, coaxing it to a stiff peak. He kneaded the soft flesh with just the right pressure, firm enough to make you arch into his touch, but never rushed.

“Watch how I’m touching her,” Jungkook said quietly to Soobin, his mouth still hovering against your heated skin. “Don’t just grab. Mold her breast in your palm like this… feel its weight. Use your thumb to tease her nipple until it’s sensitive. Her body is already responding, see how her breathing changed? That’s what you want.”

You let out a shaky whimper as he emphasized his words by pinching your nipple lightly through the fabric, rolling it between his fingers. Pleasure shot straight down between your legs. Jungkook continued kissing down your collarbone, occasionally glancing toward Soobin to explain, his voice smooth and instructional even as his hands worked magic on your body.

After several long, indulgent minutes of kissing and caressing your breasts, Jungkook’s hand began to travel lower. His palm smoothed down your stomach, fingers tracing the waistband of your underwear. He looked up at you, eyes intense. “Still okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded quickly, biting your lip. “Yes…”

With your permission, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties. The first touch of his fingers against your bare, heated skin made you gasp. You were already slick with arousal, embarrassingly wet from everything he’d done so far. Jungkook’s middle and ring fingers found your swollen clit and began rubbing slow, lazy circles over it.

“Fuck… she’s soaked,” he murmured, almost to himself, though loud enough for Soobin to hear. His fingers moved with expert precision, not too fast, not too light, applying perfect pressure as he circled your clit again and again. “This is key, Soobin. Don’t rush to penetrate her. Spend time here. Learn exactly how she likes to be touched. Feel how her hips are already trying to follow my hand?”

Your thighs trembled. Soft, needy sounds spilled from your lips as Jungkook continued the torturously slow rubbing. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in your lower belly. Every circle of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure racing through you. He kept his mouth on your neck and chest the entire time, kissing and gently biting while his hand worked between your legs.

After several drawn-out minutes of this, Jungkook shifted slightly. He used two fingers to pull your soaked panties to the side, fully exposing you. Without warning, he slowly pushed one thick finger inside you, then a second, stretching you open with delicious care. A broken moan escaped your throat. Your back arched off the chaise as his fingers sank deeper, curling slightly to find that sensitive spot inside you. Jungkook groaned softly in approval at how tightly you clenched around him.

“See that?” he said to Soobin, voice huskier now. “She’s gripping my fingers so tightly. This is what happens when you take the time to arouse her properly. Slide in slowly… curl them like this… and listen to the sounds she makes.” He began thrusting his fingers in and out in long, deep strokes, his thumb returning to rub circles over your clit at the same time. The dual sensation was overwhelming. Your hips rolled against his hand instinctively, chasing the building pleasure while Soobin watched every single movement with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked back to your face, watching you intently as he fingered you with steady, devastating skill. “You’re doing so well,” he praised softly, pumping his fingers deeper. “Let me hear you.”

Jungkook’s fingers moved with growing intensity, thrusting deeper and faster into your soaked pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of his thick fingers pumping in and out filled the room, mixing with your increasingly loud moans. You couldn’t hold back anymore. Your head fell back against the chaise as shameless whimpers and cries spilled from your lips. “Ah— fuck… Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, your voice breaking on his name. Your fingers dug desperately into his muscular arm, gripping the hard bicep through his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. Your hips bucked up to meet every thrust, chasing the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you so effortlessly. “Oh my god… it feels so good—”

“That’s it,” Jungkook praised, his voice low and rough. “Let it out. Don’t hold back for me.” His fingers curled perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you with every stroke, faster now, more relentless. The wet squelching sounds grew louder as your arousal coated his hand and dripped down between your thighs.

Your moans turned into desperate, breathy cries. Your thighs trembled violently around his wrist as the pleasure built higher and higher, far beyond anything you’d felt in months.

Jungkook suddenly slowed his fingers, keeping them buried deep inside you, and shifted his position. He moved onto his knees on the chaise, spreading your legs wider with his free hand. He looked over at Soobin, eyes dark with lust but still carrying that instructional tone. “I’m going to eat her out while I keep fingering her,” he told Soobin calmly. “This combination is extremely effective. Watch how I use my tongue.”

You whimpered at his words alone, already anticipating what was coming. Jungkook hooked his fingers under the waistband of your soaked panties and pulled them down your legs, tossing them aside. Completely exposed now, you shivered under his gaze.

He leaned down between your spread thighs, face inches from your dripping pussy. Without warning, he spat directly onto your swollen hole, the warm saliva landing right at your entrance. You gasped sharply at the filthy sensation. Jungkook used two fingers to spread the spit around, mixing it with your own wetness, before pushing his fingers back inside you.

Then his tongue was on you. A loud, broken moan tore from your throat as his warm, wet tongue licked a long, slow stripe up your pussy before focusing on your clit. He sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth while his fingers continued thrusting in and out of you, faster than before. Then he did exactly what he’d described, he fucked the spit into your hole with his tongue, pushing it inside you alongside his fingers in messy, obscene strokes.

You were on cloud nine.

“Fuck—! Jungkook— oh my fucking god—” you cried out, voice loud and unrestrained. Your back arched sharply off the chaise as intense pleasure crashed through your body. Your hands flew to his head, fingers threading through his soft dark hair, gripping tightly as his tongue fucked into you deeper. The wet sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy mixed with the filthy squelch of his fingers pumping relentlessly inside you.

Jungkook groaned against your cunt, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through you. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking hard on your clit, all while his fingers curled and stroked that perfect spot without mercy. “Soobin,” Jungkook said, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips shiny with your juices. “Come closer. Sit right next to her. She needs you here.”

Soobin moved quickly, his face flushed dark red. He sat on the edge of the chaise beside you, eyes wide as he watched Jungkook devour you. You reached out blindly, grabbing Soobin’s hand and squeezing it hard as another loud moan ripped from your throat.

“Baby— ahh— it feels so good,” you whimpered to Soobin, voice shaking. Your body thrashed under Jungkook’s skilled mouth and fingers, hips grinding desperately against his face. You gripped Soobin’s hand like a lifeline while your other hand stayed tangled in Jungkook’s hair, pulling him harder against your pussy.

Jungkook doubled down, tongue fucking into you even deeper, spitting on your cunt again before diving back in with messy, hungry strokes. His fingers never stopped their brutal pace, curling and thrusting until your moans turned into near-screams of pleasure.

You were lost in it, whimpering, moaning, and shaking uncontrollably as the man between your legs showed you exactly what your body had been missing, while you held your boyfriend’s hand through every devastating wave of pleasure.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as Jungkook’s tongue fucked relentlessly into your dripping hole and his fingers curled against that perfect spot inside you. Your moans turned into desperate, broken cries, growing louder and more frantic with every filthy stroke of his skilled mouth. You gripped Soobin’s hand so tightly your knuckles turned white, your other hand fisting Jungkook’s dark hair as your hips bucked wildly against his face.

Suddenly, the coil inside you snapped.

You came hard on his tongue with a loud, shuddering scream. “Jungkook—! Fuck, I’m cumming—!” Your entire body convulsed violently, thighs clamping around his head as powerful waves of pleasure crashed through you. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers and tongue, gushing wetly against his mouth while he continued licking and sucking through every pulse of your orgasm. You thrashed on the chaise, moaning shamelessly, eyes squeezed shut as the intense release left you trembling and breathless. Soobin’s hand stayed firmly in yours the entire time, grounding you even as you fell apart under another man’s mouth.

Jungkook worked you through every last aftershock, licking you slowly and gently until your body finally sagged against the cushions, panting and dazed. Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. He looked devastatingly handsome like that, flushed, eyes dark with lust, and breathing heavily.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked between you and Soobin, voice low and husky but still controlled. “Are you both willing to continue?” he asked. “I’d like to move into demonstrating positions. The difference between what you’ve been doing and what she actually needs.”

You didn’t even hesitate. Still floating on the high of your orgasm, arousal already stirring again, you nodded eagerly. “Yes,” you breathed, almost desperately. “Please… I want more.”

Soobin swallowed hard, visibly affected by what he’d just witnessed, but he nodded as well. “If she wants it… yes.”

A satisfied, almost predatory smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips. “Good,” he murmured. “I’m going to fuck her raw. Skin to skin. No condom. She needs to feel the full effect, the heat, the friction, everything. Then I’ll show you, Soobin, exactly how to make missionary feel incredible for her instead of just… adequate.”

Jungkook reached behind your back with skilled fingers and unclasped your bra. He slid the straps down your shoulders slowly, savoring the moment as he pulled the lace away and dropped it aside. Your breasts spilled free, nipples already hard and aching. He groaned softly at the sight before leaning down and capturing one nipple in his mouth.

He sucked on it hungrily, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his large hand kneaded the soft flesh of your other breast. He switched sides, giving the same devoted attention to the other nipple, sucking harder, grazing his teeth gently, then soothing with his tongue. The wet sounds of his mouth on your breasts filled the room as you moaned and arched into him, your body responding instantly.

After several long, indulgent minutes of worshipping your chest, Jungkook finally positioned himself between your spread thighs, after kicking his pants and boxers off. He gripped his thick, hard cock in one hand, stroking it slowly as he looked down at your flushed, dripping pussy. “Watch carefully,” he told Soobin, voice rough. “This is how you claim her.”

He rubbed the swollen head of his cock up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness, before pressing against your entrance. With a low groan, Jungkook pushed forward and slid into you in one long, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, fluttering heat.

You cried out loudly at the stretch, your back arching sharply. He was big, thicker and longer than Soobin, and the raw, bare feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. “Fuck… so tight,” Jungkook growled, holding still for a moment to let you adjust. Then he pulled back almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a rough, brutal pace immediately.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he fucked you hard and deep. Each powerful thrust rocked your entire body, your breasts bouncing with the force of it. Jungkook’s hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you again and again, the wet, filthy sounds of your pussy taking his cock filling the air. “That’s it,” he groaned, eyes locked on your face. “Take my cock. Feel how deep I am?”

Your moans were loud and unrestrained, turning into near-screams every time he bottomed out inside you. The brutal pace left you shaking, gripping the cushions beneath you as wave after wave of intense pleasure rolled through your body.

Jungkook’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh with possessive strength. He used your body like a personal toy, pulling you down onto his thick cock with every brutal thrust. Instead of just fucking into you, he yanked your hips forward to meet him, slamming you onto his length over and over again in a relentless rhythm. The wet, filthy sound of your soaked pussy being filled echoed loudly in the room with every powerful motion. Each time he dragged you back down, his cock buried itself impossibly deep, the head kissing your cervix and sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure shooting through your entire body.

“Fuck—!” you cried out, voice hoarse and broken. Your head tossed back against the chaise, mouth falling open in a constant stream of moans and whimpers.

Jungkook glanced over at Soobin, breathing heavily but still in control. “Soobin,” he growled, never slowing the way he was manhandling you onto his cock. “Play with her clit. Rub it while I fuck her. She needs the extra stimulation.”

Soobin hesitated only for a second before leaning closer. His hand trembled slightly as he reached between your bodies and found your swollen, sensitive clit. He began rubbing slow circles over it, just like he’d watched Jungkook do earlier. The added sensation was immediate and devastating.

Your moans instantly grew louder, turning into desperate, shameless cries. “Oh my god—! It’s so good… so fucking good— Jungkook, your cock is so big— I can’t— ahh!” The words spilled out of you in a messy, nonsensical stream.

Jungkook groaned in satisfaction at your words, his pace growing even more punishing. He kept yanking your hips down onto him with raw strength, using your body exactly how he wanted. The wet slap of skin against skin was constant now, your arousal dripping down his balls and soaking the chaise beneath you. Every brutal thrust made your breasts bounce heavily, your entire body jolting with the force of him claiming you.

Soobin’s fingers kept rubbing your clit, faster now, his eyes wide and dark as he watched you fall apart. “You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered, voice thick with a mix of emotions. “All fucked out… you’re glowing. So fucking pretty when you’re moaning like that.”

His words only pushed you higher. You squeezed Soobin’s hand tighter with your free one while your other hand clutched desperately at Jungkook’s forearm, nails digging into his tattooed skin. “Your dick is so big, it feels too good, I can’t think— please don’t stop—!” you babbled loudly, words slurring together between broken moans and gasps. Tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as he continued to wreck you.

Jungkook smirked, dark eyes gleaming with lust and satisfaction. He adjusted his angle slightly and started pounding into you even harder, pulling you onto his cock with every snap of his hips. The new position made him hit that perfect spot inside you with devastating accuracy on every thrust. Sweat glistened on his forehead and neck, his shirt now clinging to his muscular chest from exertion.

“That’s right,” he growled, voice rough and low. “Feel how deep I am? This is what your pussy needed. Not soft, polite sex. It needed to be ruined like this.”

He kept using your body ruthlessly, yanking you down onto him, grinding deep, then pulling back only to slam you onto his length again. Soobin never stopped rubbing tight, slick circles on your clit, his eyes flicking between your face and the sight of Jungkook’s thick cock disappearing inside you repeatedly.

The pleasure was blinding. Your moans echoed shamelessly through the room as another orgasm began rapidly building, even stronger than the first. Jungkook was fucking you better than you had ever been fucked in your life. The brutal pace of Jungkook’s cock slamming into you, combined with Soobin’s fingers rubbing relentless circles on your swollen clit, pushed you straight over the edge again.

Your second orgasm hit you like a freight train.

“Jungkook—! I’m cumming— fuck. ” you screamed, your voice cracking as your entire body seized up. Your pussy clenched violently around his thick cock, fluttering and gushing as powerful waves of pleasure ripped through you. Your back arched sharply off the chaise, thighs shaking uncontrollably while Jungkook kept fucking you through it, dragging out every last pulse of your release. Soobin’s hand never stopped, prolonging the overwhelming sensation until you were sobbing with pleasure, tears slipping down your cheeks.

You were still twitching and gasping, trying to catch your breath, when Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you with a wet sound. Before you could even whimper at the loss, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing.

He turned and sat down on the chaise, pulling you with him so you straddled his lap facing him. He guided you down onto his cock again in one smooth motion, burying himself back inside your sensitive, fluttering pussy. This new position pressed your bodies flush together, chest to chest, your knees bent on either side of his hips.

“This is called the lotus position,” Jungkook explained to Soobin, voice deep and slightly breathless as he held you firmly on his cock. “It’s intimate. She’s completely wrapped around me, which lets me hit every sensitive spot inside her. The closeness increases stimulation on her clit and lets her control the depth and rhythm while I guide her. It feels incredible for her because she’s full and every movement grinds right against her g-spot.”

You barely had time to process his words before your body took over. Still trembling from your last orgasm, you started moving on him, slow at first, then faster, rolling and bouncing on his thick length with desperate need. The new angle made him feel even deeper, pressing against places you didn’t even know existed.

“Ahh! Jungkook!” you sobbed, pleasure bordering on too much. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders tightly, nails digging into his shirt as you rode him. Your head tipped back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and cries. “It’s so deep… so fucking deep, oh my god.”

Tears continued slipping down your flushed cheeks as you moved faster, chasing the overwhelming pleasure. Your breasts bounced heavily with every roll of your hips, pussy swallowing his cock again and again with wet, obscene sounds.

Jungkook groaned deeply, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. He kneaded the soft, plump flesh roughly, spreading your cheeks as he helped guide you up and down on his cock. Then— smack, his palm came down hard on your right cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the room. You cried out at the sting, clenching tighter around him. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, slapping your ass again, harder this time. “Ride me just like that. Use my cock.”

He buried his face between your bouncing tits, sucking one nipple into his hot mouth while his hands continued kneading and spanking your ass in rhythm with your movements. He groaned against your skin, tongue swirling and teeth grazing as he devoured you.

You were lost in it— sobbing, moaning, and babbling nonsense while you rode him with everything you had.Your head stayed tipped back, eyes half-lidded and glassy with overwhelming pleasure as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. Soobin watched everything in stunned silence from just inches away, eyes dark and fixed on the way your body moved on Jungkook’s cock and how his hands owned your ass.

Jungkook pulled his mouth from your nipple just long enough to look up at your pleasure-drunk face, voice rough with lust. “That’s my good girl… Keep fucking yourself on me. Let him see how pretty you look when you’re falling apart.”

You were completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure, rolling your hips desperately on Jungkook’s thick cock in this position. Your voice had grown hoarse from moaning, but his name still fell from your lips like a prayer. “Jungkook… Jungkook— fuck, Jungkook—” you whimpered repeatedly, your head tipped back and eyes glazed over.

Jungkook pulled his face from your breasts, lips shiny, and looked up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. His hands squeezed your ass firmly as he held you down on his cock, grinding up into you slowly. “What is it, pretty girl?” he asked, voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips. “What do you need? Tell me. Use your words.”

You sobbed softly, still moving on him, drunk on the feeling of being so full. “I want it from behind,” you begged, voice shaky and desperate. “Please… I want you to fuck me from behind.”

Jungkook let out a deep, amused chuckle that vibrated through his chest. “Greedy girl,” he murmured affectionately. Without warning, he lifted you off his cock, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. He easily maneuvered your body, turning you around on the chaise.

He guided you into position with strong, confident hands. “Soobin, sit down right here,” he instructed. Soobin obeyed, sitting on the chaise with his back against the cushions. Jungkook then pushed you forward until your face hovered just above Soobin’s lap, your elbows resting on either side of his knees. Your back was arched deeply, ass up and presented perfectly for Jungkook behind you.

You looked up at Soobin through your lashes, flushed and breathing hard, your cheek nearly brushing against the bulge in his pants.

Instead of immediately sliding his cock into you, Jungkook knelt behind you. He spread your ass cheeks wide with both hands, exposing you completely. He leaned in and sank his teeth gently into the soft flesh of your right ass cheek, biting and sucking hard enough to make you gasp sharply.

“I’m going to eat her ass now,” Jungkook explained to Soobin, voice calm but dripping with lust. “Most men skip this, but it feels incredible for her. It relaxes her and makes her even wetter. Watch.” Before you could fully prepare yourself, Jungkook buried his face between your cheeks.

A loud, broken cry tore from your throat the moment his warm, wet tongue licked a slow, filthy stripe over your tight hole. “Oh my god!” you screamed, your whole body jerking forward. He licked you again, slower this time, swirling the tip of his tongue around your rim before pressing it inside you.

You were crying out uncontrollably now, the pleasure intense and strangely intimate. Your hands scrambled desperately for purchase, grabbing onto Soobin’s thighs and squeezing hard as Jungkook devoured your ass with filthy enthusiasm. He groaned against your skin, the vibrations making your eyes roll back.

His tongue pushed deeper, fucking into your tight hole with wet, obscene sounds while one of his hands reached underneath to rub firm circles on your clit. He alternated between long, broad licks and pointed thrusts of his tongue, eating you like a man starved. Every stroke sent jolts of sharp, dirty pleasure racing up your spine. “Fuck— Jungkook, it feels so fucking good!” you sobbed, pushing back against his face instinctively. Tears of overwhelming sensation rolled down your cheeks as you panted against Soobin’s thigh, looking up at him with glassy, fucked-out eyes.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your wet skin. “Hear how loud she gets when I eat her ass? This is what she’s been missing.” Then he dove right back in, licking and sucking even more eagerly, his face pressed fully between your cheeks as he worked you open with his skilled tongue.

Your moans and cries filled the entire room, shameless and loud, while your hands gripped Soobin’s thighs like a lifeline, trembling as Jungkook continued. Jungkook didn’t rush. He kept his face buried between your spread cheeks, devouring you with slow, filthy dedication. His tongue swirled and probed at your tight rim, licking long stripes from your dripping pussy up to your asshole before pushing inside again. Every time his tongue fucked into your ass, a fresh wave of overwhelming pleasure crashed through you, making your back arch deeper and your fingers dig harder into Soobin’s thighs.

Your hips pushed back against his face instinctively, chasing more of that dirty, intense sensation. He groaned deeply against your skin, the vibration traveling straight through you as he continued with even more enthusiasm. He spread your cheeks wider with both hands, fully exposing you, and spat directly onto your hole before diving back in, licking and sucking like he couldn’t get enough.

Minutes stretched out in a haze of pleasure. Jungkook took his time, alternating between broad, sloppy licks and sharp, pointed thrusts of his tongue deep inside you. One of his hands stayed between your legs, rubbing slow, firm circles on your swollen clit while the other kneaded and slapped your ass cheek occasionally, the sharp smacks making you jolt and moan louder. You were a mess, sobbing, whimpering, and shaking as he continued rimming you relentlessly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again without ever letting you tip over.

Only when your legs were trembling uncontrollably and your cries had turned into constant, desperate begging did Jungkook finally pull back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose onto his knees behind you, his voice rough with lust as he spoke to Soobin. “Now I’m going to fuck her from behind. Hard. This position lets me go deeper and gives me full control.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the thick, blunt head of Jungkook’s cock pressing against your soaked entrance. In one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, stretching you open around his thick length.

A loud, broken scream tore from your throat. "Fuck yes!" He didn’t give you any time to adjust. He immediately set a brutal, punishing pace, slamming into you hard and deep. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoed loudly through the room with every thrust. He gripped your hips tightly, yanking you back onto his cock over and over again, using your body exactly how he wanted.

“Fuck— so tight,” he growled, voice low and strained.

Every brutal snap of his hips drove his cock impossibly deep, the head kissing your cervix with every stroke. Your elbows trembled as you tried to hold yourself up, face buried against Soobin’s thigh while your moans and cries grew louder and more broken. Jungkook reached forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back slightly so your back arched even more for him.

“You like that?” he groaned, pounding into you mercilessly. “You like being fucked like a little toy from behind?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck— Jungkook!” you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. The angle was devastating. Every thrust ground against that perfect spot inside you, making your legs shake violently. Your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, soaking him with every rough stroke as he continued to rail you without mercy.

Jungkook’s pace was relentless, hard, fast, and animalistic. The wet, filthy sound of your arousal squelching around his cock mixed with the sharp slap of skin on skin. He kept one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks, pulling you back onto him with every thrust like he was trying to bury himself even deeper.

Jungkook continued pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping against your ass with a loud, rhythmic slap. Your moans were constant and broken, your body jolting forward with every brutal thrust while your face stayed pressed against Soobin’s thigh. Jungkook’s grip on your hips was iron-tight, fingers digging into your skin as he used you relentlessly.

He slowed his thrusts just enough to speak, his voice rough and commanding, yet still instructional. “Soobin,” he said, breathing heavily. “Grab her hips. Both hands. I want you to help move her back and forth on my cock. Feel how she takes me. Learn the rhythm she needs.”

Soobin hesitated for a moment, eyes wide as he watched Jungkook’s thick cock disappear inside you again and again. His cheeks were flushed dark red, but after a few seconds, he leaned forward and placed his hands on your hips, right beside Jungkook’s.

“That’s it,” Jungkook encouraged, still buried deep inside you. “Pull her back onto me when I thrust forward. Help her fuck herself on my cock. She loves it deep like this.”

Soobin’s hands tightened on your hips. At first his grip was gentle, almost uncertain, but as Jungkook started moving again, Soobin began pulling you back onto Jungkook’s cock in time with his thrusts. The added force made Jungkook’s cock slam even deeper inside you.

A loud, broken cry ripped from your throat. “Oh my god!” you sobbed, eyes squeezing shut as the new sensation overwhelmed you. Soobin’s familiar hands pulling you back combined with Jungkook’s massive cock stretching and ruining you created an intensity you’d never felt before. Every time Soobin yanked your hips back, Jungkook’s thick length drove into you harder, filling you completely.

Jungkook groaned in approval. “Good. Harder, Soobin. She can take it. Look how her pussy is gripping me every time you pull her back.”

Soobin’s grip grew firmer, more confident. He started pulling your hips back with more strength, helping impale you on Jungkook’s cock over and over again. The wet, filthy sounds grew even louder — the obscene squelching of your soaked pussy mixed with the sharp slap of skin whenever your ass met Jungkook’s hips.

You were falling apart between them.

“Fuck— fuck— it’s so deep!” you cried out, voice muffled against Soobin’s thigh. Your hands clutched desperately at Soobin’s legs, nails digging into his pants as your body was rocked between the two men. “Jungkook’s cock is so big… Soobin, baby, he’s so deep inside me— I can’t”

Jungkook kept a steady, brutal pace while Soobin pulled you back onto him with every thrust. The dual control over your body made you feel completely used, a toy being shared between them. Jungkook’s cock kissed your cervix with every forceful pull, stretching your walls perfectly around his thickness. “That’s it,” Jungkook growled, one hand moving up to grip the back of your neck while Soobin continued manipulating your hips. “Feel how she’s dripping down my cock? She’s fucking loving this. Pull her harder, Soobin. Make her take every inch.”

Soobin obeyed, his fingers pressing deeper into your soft hips as he yanked you back more forcefully. The new intensity made your eyes roll back, loud, shameless moans spilling from your lips as Jungkook fucked you raw and Soobin helped drive you onto him again and again. You were trembling violently, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face, caught in the devastating rhythm the two of them created together.

The combined rhythm was absolutely devastating. Jungkook’s thick cock slamming into you while Soobin pulled your hips back with increasing confidence created a merciless, perfect storm of pleasure. Your moans had turned into constant, broken sobs as your body was rocked between them.

Jungkook’s breathing grew harsher, his thrusts becoming more erratic and deeper. “Fuck— I’m close,” he growled, gripping your hip tighter while Soobin continued helping pull you back onto his cock. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up.”

You could only whimper in response, your mind hazy with overwhelming pleasure. Jungkook’s pace turned punishing, slamming into you with short, brutal strokes as he chased his release. With a deep, guttural groan, Jungkook buried himself to the hilt inside you and came hard. You felt every powerful pulse as he emptied himself deep inside your pussy, thick ropes of hot cum flooding your walls. He kept grinding into you, pushing his load even deeper while growling your name under his breath.

The feeling of Jungkook cumming so deep inside you triggered your own orgasm instantly. Jungkook’s grip on your neck tightened as he pounded into you even harder. “That’s it, pretty girl. Cum on my cock. Let go.”

The pressure built impossibly high, tighter and hotter, until it finally snapped. You came harder than you ever had in your life. A loud, guttural scream tore from your throat as your entire body seized up. Your pussy clenched violently around Jungkook’s cock, and then you were squirting, hard. Clear, hot liquid gushed out around his thick cock with every thrust, soaking his hips, dripping down your thighs. You shook uncontrollably, sobbing and moaning as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed through you. Jungkook didn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm and prolonging it until your vision went white and your legs gave out completely.

“Fuck, look at her,” Jungkook groaned, voice rough with satisfaction. “She’s squirting everywhere. Good girl… such a messy, beautiful girl.”

Your body finally went limp, trembling with aftershocks as Jungkook slowed his thrusts and eventually stilled deep inside you. He stayed buried in your pulsing heat for a long moment, letting you feel every inch of him while you tried to catch your breath. Soobin’s hands gently rubbed your hips, soothing the marks he’d left behind.

Jungkook eventually pulled out slowly, a rush of your combined juices dripping from your ruined pussy. He helped you collapse gently onto the chaise, turning you onto your back so you could breathe easier. Your chest heaved, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, cheeks flushed, and eyes glassy with exhaustion and satisfaction.

Jungkook sat back on his heels, breathing heavily but looking pleased. He glanced at Soobin, then down at your spent body. “That,” he said calmly, “is what she needs. Not just gentle, loving sex. She needs to be fucked properly, deeply, roughly, and without hesitation. She needs variety. She needs to be used and worshipped at the same time.” He looked at you softly. “How do you feel?”

You could barely speak, still floating. “Incredible…” you whispered hoarsely. “I’ve never… felt anything like that.”

Jungkook smiled, then turned back to Soobin. “You did well today. Helping move her like that was a great start. We’ll work on building your confidence and skill. This was only the first session.”

He helped you sit up eventually, handing you a soft towel and a bottle of water from a nearby table. While you recovered, he spoke to both of you about aftercare, communication, and homework, things for Soobin to practice at home before the next appointment.

As you slowly got dressed, your legs still shaky, you couldn’t stop stealing glances at Jungkook. The memory of how he had completely ruined you while Soobin watched was burned into your mind. Soobin was quiet, but he stayed close to you, gently rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to your temple. There was a new tension in the air, something shifted between all three of you.

Before you left, Jungkook leaned against his desk, arms crossed, looking unfairly composed and handsome. “Book your next session soon,” he said with a small, knowing smirk. “We still have a lot to work on… and I think you both know now how much she needs it.”

You left the office leaning on Soobin’s arm, body sore in the most delicious way, your mind already replaying everything that had happened… and wondering how much further Jungkook would take you next time.

Someone shuffled beside you in bed, and a large arm came up around you, trapping you in the pillowy white blanket underneath its weight. You glanced down, a familiar pattern of tattoos inked into the skin of the bicep currently pinning you to the mattress.

Oh right.

You turned your head, coming face to face with a very much still asleep Jungkook. You froze in place, all the memories from last night rushing back to you all at once.

The after-party, the black-suited security guard instructing you to stay put and asking you to wait a little longer, the two heavy stacks of documents you were suddenly handed, and, through shaky eyes, you scribbled and signed before being escorted to a large van with tinted windows.

You blinked a few times, as if to try to prove to yourself that this wasn't a dream. Jungkook's lips were parted slightly, his face soft and relaxed, his stage makeup from the night before still around his eyes and ever so slightly smudged. His hair fell over his face, bangs stuck oddly in different places, his lips full and pouty.

Even when sleeping, this man was devastatingly gorgeous.

You studied his face for a little while, in silent awe of being in his bed. You shuffled a little and rolled onto your side, turning your back to him as his little spoon. You slid yourself back towards him until you were met with his warm, bare chest. Jungkook subconsciously slid his arm down, landing his arm comfortably on the smallest part of your waist. Your heart was pounding at the touch; the only separation between his arm and your very naked body was the duvet that was draped lazily over your torso.

You settled into your new position, still half asleep and comfy, and saw a mess of black and blonde hair from over the little hill in the blanket. You couldn't help but smile to yourself, the giddiness returning in full swing.

The other wildly exciting part of your night.

Taehyung was facing away from you, lying on his stomach, his hair peeking out from above the blanket. His arms were tucked neatly under his pillow, the flex of his biceps so close to you sending a stir to your stomach again.

Maybe if you stayed completely still, they would keep sleeping, and you could stay here forever.

You let yourself drift back to sleep, but your heart was already awake and racing. There was no way you could fall asleep again now. You shuffled a little under the blanket again, curling yourself up into a little ball as you tried to get extra comfy. Then there was some movement on the mattress. Taehyung lifted his head off his pillow, staring off at the wall for a few seconds before turning his head to finally face you.

"Oh, you're awake." He spoke in a low whisper in the dark bedroom; his morning voice was rough and gravelly, but the same silkiness like honey poured through.

You nodded with a soft smile, and he smiled back, reaching his arm over the blanket to pet your chin. You felt yourself flush, the shyness hitting you at full force. You flustered at his touch, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Does your head hurt?" he whispered, hand still resting gently on your face.

"Not really, I'm a little dizzy," you replied.

"Sit tight. Let me get you some water."

Taehyung sat up in bed, his bare back facing you as he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, stretching his neck side to side before standing up. Your eyes drifted to the tattoo on his lower back, something you never thought you'd be able to see so detailed and up close. You couldn't do anything but stare, still in such shock about how you ended up here.

He walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of water before cracking it open and returning to the bed.

"Here."

You nodded your head and thanked him, propping yourself up on your arm so you could take a sip. The icy, cool water was an immediate relief to your dry throat. Taehyung watched you as you took a few sips from the bottle, the water feeling like God's gift to your hungover body right now.

Jungkook stirred behind you, his arm still heavy on your waist. You heard a few quiet, sleepy hums behind you, and you turned your head back to face him, his eyes cracking open slowly.

"Mm," he hummed, eyes blinking slowly as he woke up in phases. His eyes landed on you, tucked safely under his arm and pressed against his warm, bare chest.

"Morning," he said with a lazy smile, before his eyes closed again. He pulled you in a little closer, the comfort of cuddling you lulling him back to sleep.

"Jungkook-ah," Taehyung climbed back into bed, reaching over you to nudge his friend on the shoulder. Jungkook furrowed his brows and lifted his head, eyes open again.

"It's almost nine. Get up."

Jungkook let out a grunt in protest before looking down at you, still cradled in his arms.

"Have fun last night?" he said with a small, sleepy smirk.

You crinkled your nose, turning your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassed smile. Jungkook laughed before planting a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He sat up and rolled his neck a few times, his broad bare back perfectly chiselled, even in the dark room. You felt your mouth water, your head still resting on the pillow.

Jungkook shuffled down the hall, and a few moments later, the bathroom light flicked on, the door swinging half-closed.

Taehyung was back in bed with you, now lying on his back, still shirtless and only in his sleep shorts. He looked at you with quiet curiosity before opening his arm towards you, patting his chest with his other hand.

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his chest, his warm, strong arm wrapping around you safely. You nestled yourself deeper into him; the smell of his sweat mixed with the leathery notes of his cologne was enough to drive you crazy.

"Sleep well?" Taehyung mumbled as he traced soft circles on your arm.

"Mhm," you hummed, your hand resting on his chest next to your cheek.

"Good," he replied, giving your arm a quick squeeze.

He tilted you up by the chin, your eyes locking with his, only inches away from each other. You felt everything inside you turn into a puddle at his touch.

"I had a lot of fun last night," he said with a lazy smile. "I hope it wasn't too much for you."

"No, I had fun—it was fun," you said with a smile, fighting the blush from rising to your cheeks.

Taehyung leaned in and brought his lips down on yours, his full, pouting lips electrifying you as he kissed you. You parted your lips involuntarily, and he let out a soft laugh as he deepened the kiss, delicately, sweetly, and not aggressively and dominating like it was last night.

"Mm," you hummed into his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss for a moment before he pushed himself deeper against you, his tongue swiping your lower lip for entry. You let your mouth fall open, granting him access to the inside of your mouth. Taehyung wasn't rushed; he licked your tongue softly first, before darting his tongue in a little deeper, sweeping the inside of your mouth like he was trying to map out the inside of your mouth before you had to leave.

"Tae," you moaned, the sensation of his wet tongue against yours so early in the morning sending a fire directly to your lower core.

"Gonna miss this pretty mouth when we fly out tonight," he murmured into your mouth.

Taehyung lifted you up so that you were practically lying on top of him now, and he pulled away from your lips for a moment, propping his pillow up behind him so he was sitting up a little more, watching you with those hypnotizing eyes.

"Why don't you leave us with one more memory before you have to go?" His tone was lower, dripping with his want for you, his eyes the same as they were last night: dark and commanding.

You bit your lower lip as you slid yourself down his bare torso, landing yourself right at his waist. Taehyung was already hard beneath the fabric of his pyjama shorts, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you intently.

With one hand, you slipped his waistband down, his waiting cock peeking out from the waistband, flushed and already a little glistened from precum.

You were the luckiest girl on earth.

You took him in your mouth, the familiar salty sweetness of his arousal coating your tongue. Taehyung's mouth fell open, his eyes trained on you as you swirled your tongue expertly over the head of his needy cock.

"Mmm, so gorgeous," he moaned as he watched you.

Your head was still spinning a little from the alcohol, but you blinked hard to maintain your focus. Your wet, pouty lips worked his tip as you licked at the soft tendon at the underside of his cock.

Taehyung bucked his hips a little at the sensation you were giving him, his one arm coming up to hold up the back of his head.

"Yeah, just like that."

You dipped your head lower, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth, nudging on the back of your throat. Taehyung let out a deep, breathy moan, his eyes fluttering closed as you slid your mouth up and down his length.

"Fuck," he grunted, before his other hand flew to the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his long, thick cock. "Obsessed with you."

You felt yourself gag a little at the force of his hand on the top of your head, guiding you further and further down his length. He was deep down your throat now, his thickness filling your mouth entirely, knocking your uvula with every bounce. You closed your eyes, focused on pleasing the superstar sprawled out in front of you. You closed your hand into a fist, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes from the intensity of his fullness in your mouth.

Taehyung bobbed you up and down with his guided hand, his hips bucking upwards to let himself feel even more of you, the stretch of your mouth around him driving him crazy.

"So fucking good, hm? Fucking love this mouth," he hissed as he continued fucking your mouth, his satoori bleeding through every anunciation of his words. "Fuck."

"I still feel fucking drunk," Jungkook suddenly turned the corner, reappearing from the bathroom, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, naked and on your knees in front of Taehyung, your head being pinned down by his hand as he fucked your mouth like you were his personal little pornstar.

"Huh, so this is what you were doing while I was washing my face," Jungkook scoffed, taking a step closer towards the foot of the bed.

You let out a muffled moan, and Taehyung released his hand from your head, letting you finally catch some air. You pulled off of him with a desperate wet pop, your eyes and lashes wet, your chin already dribbling with saliva. You were panting as you brought your hand up to Taehyung's cock, still determined to please him. You pumped your hand up and down his length firmly, milking him as you caught your breath.

"Hyung, you're so fucking greedy," Jungkook murmured, taking another step towards the bed so that he was only a couple of feet behind you at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook was still shirtless in his gym shorts, and he watched quietly as you continued to please his bandmate, your hand pumping Taehyung's cock with a steady pace, dipping your head back onto the first few inches of his length.

"Ugh, fuck, you're so pretty," Jungkook groaned, palming himself over his shorts now. "Even in the early morning, you're just as much of a giver as you were last night."

"Isn't she such a good girl?" Taehyung looked up at his dongsaeng with a cocky smirk. "Sucking me off for breakfast."

"Mhm," Jungkook replied, his voice low and hungry.

Jungkook pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, wiping his mouth on the abandoned towel on the bench at the foot of the bed.

"Can you handle some more, love?" Jungkook's words were sweet, but the way they came out of his mouth was mean, like he was teasing you.

You popped your mouth off of Taehyung and tossed your hair over your shoulder to look back at Jungkook. You didn't say anything, just gave him a look, that look that got you into this mess in the first place.

He let out half a cocky laugh before he slid his shorts down, undressing himself behind you.

You felt your core burning already, your pussy clenching around the painful nothingness. The cool air of the hotel room felt extra sensitive against your exposed cunt, your ass up in the air from pleasing Taehyung.

"C'mere," Jungkook said with a growl as he reached forward, gripping your hips and yanking you backwards towards him. You let out a giggly yelp at the way he manhandled you.

Jungkook slid his thumb against your pussy, the pad of his thumb parting your folds so easily. You shivered at the sensation, the glide of his finger sending little sparks throughout your whole body.

"Already dripping," he murmured to himself. "Tae, you got her so wet already."

Taehyung let out a laugh, giving Jungkook a cocky half-shrug as he took his own cock into his left hand, pumping himself lazily.

"She has good taste."

Jungkook dipped a finger into you first, the feeling of something, anything inside of you making you gasp. He hummed as he slid another finger into you, before he began to scissor his fingers inside of you, stretching you out.

"Hnng, JK," you hissed, your head dropping forward against the blanket.

"Shh shh," Jungkook said with a smirk. "Just getting you ready for me, baby."

"I think she can handle it already, Koo." Taehyung was watching you, face pressed into the blanket to muffle your moans as he jerked himself off to the view.

The sensation of Jungkook's fingers suddenly went away, before being replaced by the burning, splitting sensation of his cock pressing into you, slowly, inch by inch.

"Ah!" You wailed into the blanket, the soft pillow duvet swallowing any of your cries. "Too-too much."

"You can take it," Taehyung growled, still fucking his hand in front of your face. "You took it so well last night, didn't you, baby?"

You nodded and propped yourself back up properly before arching your back, giving yourself fully to Jungkook as he sank deeper into you, until he was completely sheathed inside of your pussy. The feeling of him filling you completely was shattering your sanity; Jungkook was hung, bigger than any of the boyfriends from your past, and he knew exactly how to use all nine inches of his pretty cock.

"That's it," Jungkook groaned, staying still for a moment as you quaked and clenched around him desperately, trying to get used to the feeling of him again. "Take it. Take all of me, pretty girl."

"F-fuck," you moaned, lifting your head off the bed finally. "God, you feel so good inside of me."

"Love my cock, huh? Wanna take it all for me like a good girl, ah?" Jugnkook's voice was gravelly and low, his Busan accent thick and evident in every sentence as he got lost in the feeling of you, still drunk and sleepy.

"Yes, JK," you whimpered.

He began to set a rhythm, rocking his hips against your ass at a pace that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You let out a cry at the intensity, his length splitting you in half as he fucked you from behind.

Taehyung groaned at the sight of you, falling apart already on Jungkook's cock. You looked up at Taehyung through needy eyes, your brows furrowed and lips pouting as your breath matched the pace of every slam of Jungkook's hips into you.

"Think you can take us both, hm?" Taehyung's accent was thick, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you like a jaguar. "Come here, take this cock too."

You swallowed between gasps before reaching forward, wrapping your hand around Taehyung's girthy size again. He cocked his head to the side as he watched you, his other hand coming up to fluff the back of his hair.

"Come on, princess, don't be shy," Jungkook growled from behind you, still fucking you expertly. "Show us what you can do."

You could barely think straight with how well Jungkook's cock was hitting your g-spot, knocking stars into your vision with every thrust. You shook your head a little before poking your tongue out of your mouth again, enveloping Taehyung in your mouth once more.

"Fuuuck," Taehyung moaned, dropping his head back against his pillow. "You're a gorgeous little cumslut, aren't you?"

You nodded a little as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock again, swallowing every inch of him that you could possibly take. Taehyung's length stretched your mouth out so crudely, and he sneered at you as he watched you struggle to take him all in your mouth.

"Too fucking big for you?" Taehyung groaned, his dialect itching your ears in just the right way. "Dirty girl, you can do it."

You felt like your body was on fire; every part of you felt full, spent, but your head was spinning with how much pleasure you were experiencing. Jungkook was fucking you so well from behind, every thrust of his hips pushing you deeper onto Taehyung's cock.

"Wanna see you fall apart like this on the both of us, honey," Jungkook groaned before dropping his hand down to your pussy, rubbing slow, controlled, firm circles on your clit.

You let out a muffled cry, the sounds dampened against Taehyung's length stuffed in your mouth. He grinned down at you, your mouth so full of him, and his other hand came back down to hold you steady.

You felt like you were going to die, but you already were in heaven.

Your core burned hotter and hotter, the cord inside of you beginning to stretch impossibly tight. Jungkook's tip was knocking against your sensitive spot so perfectly, and you thought you could pass out from the pleasure.

The rhythm of his hips suddenly faltered for a moment, and Jungkook leaned down, fishing his phone out of his shorts that were left abandoned on the floor.

The blanket around you was suddenly illuminated by a phone light, and your eyes widened as you realized Jungkook was filming you, spread open, bent over, and taking him like a pornstar. Humiliation immediately washed over your whole body, and you were sure that if you weren't red in the face before, you definitely were now.

"Jungkook—" you gasped, popping your mouth off of Taehyung for a moment.

"Don't worry, angel, nobody's ever going to see this except me. And Hyung."

Taehyung chuckled, his hand pushing your head back down along him. He gave you a wink, the small gesture sending a surge of adrenaline through your body, and you picked up the pace.

"Ugh fuck, look at her. Performing for the camera."

Jungkook held the camera at arm's length so that he was filming himself fucking you, selfie-style, as you sucked Taehyung off. He threw his head back into the pillow again, his lower lip pinched between his teeth as his abdomen was flexed, his pleasure taking over his whole demeanour.

"Gonna fucking cum in this pretty mouth," Taehyung hissed, brows furrowed as he sat up a little further, his V-line and abdomen on perfect display, glistening with sweat and flexed.

"Sin fucking city," Jungkook said to the camera with a cocky laugh. "Look at her."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you persisted. Jungkook's fingers were still working your clit, and you were desperately trying not to explode, not to scream out in pleasure.

Taehyung let out a long, pornographic moan as he reached his climax, his warm, desperate spurts hitting you in the back of your throat. Your mouth was suddenly flooded with the salty-sweet taste of him, thick and creamy on your tongue.

"Fuuck-God," Taehyung hissed, his hand pushing you down along his length impossibly deep as he rode out his high. "Horny little slut, taking my load in her pretty mouth."

You dragged your tongue along the underside of his length, all the way up to the top, cleaning him up with your mouth before you drank all of him down. You swallowed with a gasp, your mouth falling open to show Taehyung that you had taken all of him so well, just like he wanted.

Taehyung's hand released from your head to tilt you up to look at him by the chin. You held eye contact with him through teary eyes, still rocking forward on your knees as Jungkook fucked you. Taehyung's eyes were still dark, but his gestures were a little sweeter now, his thumb dragging along your lower lip, wiping up the residual cum dripping from your mouth.

"Pretty girl," he hummed. "Getting me off so well while Koo fucks you from the back."

You let out a whine at Taehyung's gentle hands as Jungkook wrecked you, the two opposite sensations making your head spin.

"Please, please," you begged, your eyes needy and wet as you held Taehyung's gaze. "Feels so-so good, Tae. Gonna—"

"Fuck, she feels so tight around me," Jungkook hissed, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought his own pleasure, his camera still on you.

You were teetering on the edge now, your climax dangerously close. You squeezed your eyes shut, the pleasure manifesting itself in the faces you were making, desperate, vulnerable, and so erotic.

Taehyung's voice broke through your trance.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flew open, Taehyung's hand returning to your chin as he held you up, forcing you to look at him. He was smiling at you, not sweet, but cocky.

"Just wanna remember what you look like as you cum, hm?" Taehyung said with a grin.

That was it.

Your climax ripped through your body, the intensity so strong that your vision went blurry, and you dropped your head to the blanket, as you wailed into the covers. Taehyung lifted your head back up with ease, your eyes rolled back into your head, eyes fluttering, knuckles white as you gripped the bedsheets. You felt a warm rush of liquid escape you, dripping down your thighs and trickling onto the bed with an audible drip.

"Fuck, so sexy," Jungkook hissed, maintaining his mean pace. "Squirting all over me like a dirty whore."

"Tae, too much, he's too much," you sobbed, the pleasure mixing with pain as Jungkook knocked his cock into you, his pace picking up as he neared his climax.

"Shh, you can take it," Taehyung murmured, stroking your cheek. "Take it, doll."

Jungkook let out a low groan through gritted teeth, his phone abandoned on the bed, both his hands gripping you by the hips as he pounded into you continuously.

"Fuck, you squeeze around me so well, gonna fucking cum in this slutty cunt, huh?"

You felt your body go limp, but you stayed on your knees so obediently, letting Jungkook climb to his peak as he fucked you feverishly.

A large hand came down on your ass, giving you a stinging slap. You wailed out, your fingers coming up to intertwine with Taehyung's.

"Fucking perfect girl," Jungkook growled. "Letting me fuck her while Hyung watches. Gonna fucking wreck you, baby."

"Let Jungkook cum in your pretty pussy, baby," Taehyung cooed.

"Fuck-yes, Jung-kook-please," you stuttered, far too drunk off his cock to even think straight. "Please, finish in my tight little pussy, it's all yours, my pussy is yours."

Jungkook let out a low guttural groan as he pressed himself deep into you, up to the hilt. His head dropped forward as he reached his climax.

"Fucking shit," he moaned as you felt his ropes shoot inside of you, jagged and pulsing. Jungkook painted your walls with his pleasure, his breath releasing in short pants and hisses as he fucked himself through his high.

You were entirely spent now, your body was limp and boneless, and you collapsed onto the bed by Taehyung's legs. Jungkook collapsed beside you at the foot of the bed, his length still buried inside of you.

The three of you lay on the bed, sprawled in every direction in silence, the only sound in the room was the panting and heavy breathing from both you and Jungkook. Taehyung's hand came up to pet your hair gently, stroking your head with a soft rub of his thumb.

He reached over for the water bottle he had brought you earlier on the nightstand and uncapped it again, bringing it to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open at the contact with the plastic bottle, and you opened your mouth slightly, allowing Taehyung to bottle feed you sips of water through heavy breaths.

"Good girl," he cooed. "Such a good girl."

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist again, holding you in close as his breathing returned to normal. He pressed sweet kisses along your shoulder, your back, your spine.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

Jungkook gently pulled himself out of you, the mix of your fluids dripping out onto the bedsheets. You covered your face in embarrassment, but Jungkook's hand came up to pull your wrist off.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

The shower turned on with a roar, the water pressure strong and thumping against the glass door already. Steam slowly began to fill the chamber, and Jungkook reached into the shower to test the temperature.

Taehyung was standing behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your arms possessively as he waited for the shower to warm up.

"It's good," Jungkook mumbled as he stepped in, and then turned to face you, his hand reaching out to help you in.

You stepped over the little step of the shower floor, joining Jungkook in the steamy chamber. The scent of eucalyptus and citrus filled your senses, the steam soothing your whole body almost instantly.

Taehyung stepped in behind you before he closed the door, the three of you standing impossibly close together. You were pinched between the two tall, muscular men, both of them facing you as their hands lazily explored your wet body.

"Sweet girl," Taehyung murmured into your ear, planting a kiss on the back of your neck. "Thanks for spending the night."

You nodded, and Jungkook tilted you up to face him with a finger on your chin. He grinned at you, lip ring twinkling under the potlight, before leaning in to press a sweet, soft kiss on your lips.

The two of them reached for the body wash that was mounted on the wall, each pumping twice, before lathering the soap in their hands. Jungkook then opened his hands towards you, his hands immediately gently gripping your breasts in his hand, giving them a soft squeeze as he began to spread the bubbly body wash across your body, massaging you as he cleaned you.

Taehyung followed suit, his hands firmly on your shoulders, massaging the tension out with his soapy hands before spreading the lather across your back, scrubbing gently and thoroughly down the length of your spine. You felt yourself melt at their touch, so intimate and loving.

"Mm, feels good," you sighed, your head dropping back onto Taehyung's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's sleepy," Jungkook said with a chuckle. "I'd be too."

You stood between them as they washed themselves, the scent of the bodywash making your head spin.

When all three of you were perfectly clean again, Taehyung reached around you and turned off the water before reaching out of the shower door to grab a towel. He stepped out first, wrapping the towel around his waist, before grabbing a second and third one, motioning for you to step out of the shower towards him. You did.

Jungkook stepped out of the shower behind you, and Taehyung handed him one of the towels. He wrapped it around his waist tightly before they both turned their focus back to you.

"Arms up," Taehyung said softly, and you lifted your arms over your head.

He wrapped the towel around your torso, tucking it in at the edge so it hung like a dress. Jungkook pressed the towel against your body, helping you dry yourself. Once you were comfortably wrapped up, Jungkook stepped towards the mirror, shaking his wet tendrils of hair around like a puppy dog. He collected another towel from the shelf to dry his hair.

You returned to the bed, sitting on the edge as Taehyung got dressed in front of you. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

10:04am.

"Jungkookie-ah, we gotta go soon."

"Yah," Jungkook called from inside the bathroom.

Taehyung turned back to look at you.

"We have late check out. You can nap here until we come back, if you want."

You were so sleepy, too blissed out to move. You nodded, giving him a weak smile as you let yourself lie back in bed.

Taehyung looked at you with a laugh before coming around the bed again, petting your head gently.

"Sleep well. We'll try to get ready quietly."

You nodded, already feeling half-asleep as you melted back into the pillows and blanket, the cool Egyptian cotton bundling you up so addictively.

You didn't realize you had drifted off to sleep until your eyes snapped open to the sound of a knock at the door.

"That's probably Hobi-hyung," Taehyung murmured, now fully dressed, with a pair of sunglasses sitting on his head, and his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go," Jungkook hummed, his hair fluffy and blow-dried, bare-faced and zipped up in a black hoodie.

"It was nice meeting you," Jungkook said, giving you a nod, his hands in his pockets. "Maybe when we're back in Vegas?" He gave you a wink.

You buried your face a little deeper into the blanket, the shyness returning.

"Yeah," you murmured, your mouth breaking into a wide smile.

Jungkook laughed, watching you fumble in your own shyness for a moment, before Taehyung nudged him by the shoulder.

"Come on, let's go," Taehyung urged. "They're all waiting for us."

Taehyung turned back to you with a little smirk.

"See you in a few hours."

And then the door opened and closed with a dull squeak and then a soft click, sealing you into this bubble of them, the twelve-hour whirlwind that you had found yourself in. You let your eyes flutter shut, the lingering smell of sweat and eucalyptus lulling you into what was going to be, possibly, the best sleep of your fucking life.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

i just blacked out and wrote this im missing out on precious sleep and i'm not proofreading it

bitch i need to touch grass!!!! ♡⃛

Is a glass of water half-full or half-empty?

You observe the glass, hoping for a revelation or answer — a good distraction from your miscalculations all evening; well, miscalculations in the duration of meeting Jeon Jungkook. Tucking yourself further into your small couch, the corners of your lips tug at the reminder of the boy. The icy glass cools your hot skin, which still remembers the flames he left you surrounded in on the dancefloor.

And those eyes — his always spoke to you without words. 

Eyes smitten and playful all evening, you can’t forget how they morphed into fear and panic when you finally moved on the pathway he laid out for you. Were you wrong to assume he wanted more with you?

“Ah, so stupid.” You slam your eyes shut at the memory, shame heats your cheeks at his rejection — at another loss you’ll need to process on your own. Loss, after loss, after loss. It wears on your bones, empties your soul just like how you empty the glass of water clutched in your hand.

Didn’t matter whether your glass was ‘half-full or half-empty,’ the water will eventually be consumed. Jungkook had a way of overfilling your glass with an abundance of hope; however, you later found out the glass you shared with Jungkook contained holes and eventually left you empty.

No one leaves you empty like Jungkook does. 

Sitting up higher on your couch, you dig your lower back into your armrest, wanting to feel some form of support.

Maybe you should’ve stayed and taken the water Jungkook offered. Wake you up from that drunken state and snap you out of your innermost desires for your friend. You’d probably go as far as blaming the alcohol and the night would’ve just ended from there.

Probably would’ve been a better alternative than pathetically running away. Then again, there was no way you were going to last another second in the venue — not after the way he pulled away.

You know it’s rude to leave in the middle of the party. Can’t even bear looking at your phone since ordering a cab outside the club, opting to place it on silent afterwards. Now, the phone rests heavily on your kitchen counter, begging to be checked on.

You should text him. Tell him you’re safe and use indigestion as an excuse for your abrupt departure — no one would ever find fault in that reason. Another pang of anxiety holds you back from touching your phone. What if he didn’t bother checking on you? Upset with your bad habit of leaving? 

He has all the rights to.

Setting your feet into your house slippers, you’re thankful for the flat cushion after a night of dancing in heels. Bathroom first, then you’ll text Jungkook. The order of events seemed the most logical and definitely not your way of avoiding the inevitable. It’s a solid plan—

You jolt at the series of knocks against your door. Although your building was relatively safe, living alone had its downsides, especially at this hour. The grip on your glass changes and you ready yourself for self-defense. 

Best case scenario? A ding-dong ditcher. Worst? Nope. You don’t want your mind wandering there. 

One eye closed, you peer through the peephole.

The fisheye effect warps your vision, but you could easily make out the person standing facing away from your doorway. The dangly, silver five-hooped earrings were a dead giveaway to your visitor. Felt them graze the top of your hand every time he tilted his head in your touch. Felt them when you wrapped your hands at the base of his nape. They glimmered prettily under the club lights, but they look nearly dull now under your complex’s standard lightbulbs. 

He’s a few steps away, pacing, looking anywhere but your door as if it was the most offensive piece of object … as if your home was the most deplorable place he could be at right now.

And it should be. He should be at his party celebrating his wins and accomplishments, surrounded by people who love and care for him — not on shame’s breeding grounds. Shame nearly has you running to hide underneath your covers, hoping he’d leave if you refused to answer. Rather than give into shame’s call for isolation, your fingers flick the locks and wrap around the doorknob.

“Jungkook?” 

He’s still turned away from you, pacing back and forth in your building’s hallway. No longer styled how it was in the beginning of the night, his hair looks to be run through … whether it be by him or a stranger. 

Couldn’t be you.

Your mouth parts, words lodged in your throat, but you manage to utter, “What are you doing here?”

He lets out a breath. So unstable, you could feel the restraint in his action but he stops in his tracks, head tilting up at the ceiling to will the words.

“Why do you keep doing that?” His voice raises, back still turned to you.

You frown, looking around to see if there was anyone in the vicinity. Definitely not at this hour. Your neighbors should be asleep, which is why you don’t want to make a scene outside your home.

“Jungkook—”

Suddenly, harshly, his back shifts and his body whips around, “Why do you keep leaving me? Is that all you know how to do?” 

You’re standing face to face with his wide eyes and desperate furrowed brows. The hand raking through his hair only showcasing more of the distress forming on his forehead.

Your mind flashes back to your meeting at the milestone party. There was nothing wrong with your departure at that time. A small, but selfish part of you, doesn’t think you were at total fault for tonight’s departure either. 

“Jungkook … please,” you stammer, eyes drifting down to your feet. 

“I-I don’t fucking get it, Pix. I just–”

“Can you come inside?” You ask, looking around once more. And although Jungkook hasn’t made far enough noises to warrant a complaint, you’d rather talk inside the privacy of your home. “We can talk in here. Please?” You plead in a small whisper.

Jaw clenched as he looks at you and over the threshold of your home, he nods.

Citrus, with no more lingering scent of cigarettes, wafts past you. Even if he was upset with you, he’s still respectful in your home as he toes off his shoes at the entryway. He exhales through his nose, finally turning to face you. His jaw ticks, eyes bloodshot for multiple reasons but he’ll blame the alcohol and not the exhaustion of looking for you. 

You can’t meet his eyes, can’t even bring yourself to speak in the comforts of your home.

“You keep doing this.” His voice cracks.

“I-I,” Your own voice wavers at his statement, you fight the lump in your throat as you lie, “wasn’t feeling well—”

“Cut the bullshit.” 

You frown, having never seen Jungkook speak nor act this way towards you. He extends patience and understanding towards you like an additional limb on his body; perhaps, you’ve tested them enough tonight. Still, your own emotions come out just as unsteady and unreasonable.

“You’re being unfair.” You croak.

“I’ve been anything but that, Pix.” He retracts his head, brows furrowed. “You’re the one that left. Like you always do when things don’t go your way.”

Your brows pull together, unable to mask the hurt at the accusation. “What did you expect me to do? You—” Your bottom lip trembles.

“What?” He takes a step forward and you’re once again engulfed in his overbearing scent. The action stunts your train of thoughts, and for a split second, you think he’s almost just as affected.

You’re tired of going in circles, chasing but also running away from what appears to be your own desires.

“You led me on all night.” Voice small, Jungkook nearly misses what you say. 

His frustration morphs into surprise, then guilt at the sudden forwardness of your words.

“I …” His eyes widen at the realization as he chews on the inside of his cheeks. He shakes his head, denying the allegations. “I didn’t.”

“But you did.” You walk past him, lower back leaning against the kitchen island. Arms crossed, you don’t miss how Jungkook’s eyes drop to your breasts pushed together. His throat bobs, hands twitching on his sides as he tries to rack up an appropriate response.

“We were dancing. Having fun.” He reasons. “That’s all.”

Friends don’t dance the way you both did tonight; their touches don’t burn. They don’t leave the party after being deserted from a dodged kiss on the dance floor. They sure as hell don’t stare at you like you’re made of stardust. 

“Okay.” As if whatever happened in the last couple of hours could be reduced to ‘just dancing.’

His throat emits a low growl, patience once again tested. “Why’d you leave?”

Truthfully? There was no alternate reality where you’d stay after his rejection.

Your crossed arms drop to your sides, throat tightening to keep the contents in your stomach from hurling out. You can’t bear the truth, which seems to point at the fact Jungkook has moved on and there’s no more room for you in his life and heart. 

He’s left you behind.

Jungkook fills in the silence with the same words circling in your head, slipping from his mouth now directed at you with an ache you’ve done your best to forget. “You’ve moved on.”

Your face falls, having spent months trying to forget him through hobbies, friends, and even another person, only to find out … nothing’s worked.

Unable to meet his eyes, you mutter, “I had to.” 

“I know.” He says, “I know that.”

The filter on your fish tank acts as a buffer for the silence stretched in the small distance.

“You’ve moved on, too.” You don’t mention the woman you saw in his apartment lobby, too afraid of the confirmation that he has indeed moved on.

He lets out a shuddering breath, head hung low. “I tried, okay? I really did.”

Something within you shatters at his revelation. It hurts to be right, and it hurts more knowing no one was at fault in the aftermath of a heartbreak. 

He drags his hand down his face, fighting the drunken exhaustion and confusion. “Things got better, I swear. But then I see you and I’m just reminded …”

“Of what?” You ask.

He stays quiet. So different than the man who was just outside your door ready to scorn the world. You wonder how he has kept his composure during the times of your silence when all you want to do right now is shout for an answer, resolution … or ending. What was left after this? Was there another title after being demoted to friends?

… Strangers?

You don’t wait for his answer, choosing to fill the gaps of the conversation with your reality. “You don’t tell me about your life anymore. Like … like, I’m some sort of afterthought learning all these things about you after the fact.” Tears falling freely, you sniff and palm away the moisture on your cheeks.

“Pix–”

“Why did you push me away?” From his life, from the kiss … no clarification needed — it all bleeds together anyway. “Did I misunderstand?”

“Pix.” He repeats, eyes crestfallen and exhausted. “You’re with someone, there’s no way I would do that to you–”

“I’m not with him anymore.”

He pauses, drawing in a sharp breath. “Still doesn’t make it right.” Despite his words, you recognize a faint glint in his eyes.

Of course he becomes the voice of reason when this conversation shouldn’t exist among supposed friends. Now it’s your turn to stay quiet, too ashamed for further humiliation and rejection.

“All I do is remember you, Pix. All I find myself doing is thinking of you. Could never stop even if I wanted to.” He shakes his head. Your stomach sinks, an uncomfortable mass lodged in your throat as you process his words. “And I’m so tired of having to remember you.” He looks at you with so much anguish, wishing and begging for you to end this turmoil. 

“Jungkook …”

“I still think about the night at the hotel.” He continues, jaw clenched to stop the trembles. “And I feel so guilty.”

You shake your head vehemently. “You never once did anything I didn’t want to do.”

“I knew you couldn’t be with me, but I still pushed for more. It was selfish of me and I—”

“I’ve always wanted you, Jungkook,” you sob. “You never gave me the chance to make things work.”

Your hands cover your face as you heave into your palms, moist from your tears and breath. Jungkook tilts his head up at the ceiling, furiously blinking away the stray tears he thought he had swore away on the cab ride over to your place.

The buzzing travels up from your fingers to the back of your head. Your body convulses from your silent sobs, mind numbing from all the fog and confusion. Like a bee, refusing to leave you alone, you want to cower away from the source of noise. The buzzing continues for another fifteen seconds, too loud even when neither of you utter a word. It’s impossible to avoid when the buzzing happens from within. How do you remedy this? How do you run away? How, how, how—

The buzzing stops.

Zapped away by a strong pair of arms, the bees stop swarming in your mind, all honeyed scent — all citrus consuming your senses.

Jungkook holds you and it’s the closest thing to the security of your home. Possibly better. Home shelters you from the brewing storm, and as you cry into the expanse of Jungkook’s chest, he holds you tighter, chin resting on the top of your head.

“What are we even doing?” Jungkook mumbles against your hair, voice hoarse and tired.

You inhale into your hands and answer honestly, “I don’t know.” 

He swallows, breathing you in, “I hate this.”

Your heart crumbles again. Was this it? Has to be. He’s finally done and wants nothing to do with you anymore.

Instead of his warmth departing from your body like you’ve grown used to, he holds you tighter.

“I fucked everything up.” He says. “I messed you up, and I’m trying to do right by you, I swear, but I–”

His words are cut off with your arms around his waist. Face pressed into his chest, your tears became another source of darkness on his grey shirt, but neither of you cared. 

“You didn’t mess anything up.” You heave. Months passed, things changed. Time was a marker for healing and forgetting old wounds; though, there were just some things — some people — you can’t and don’t want to forget. 

“I missed you so much, Pix.”

You pull back a little to look at his face. Hurt and longing never needed a competition and there’s no winner when both of you were wounded in the process. The frame had always been a little unfocused and hard to decipher, but you’re both in view now.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” You confess.

He blinks twice, hand now coming to cup your wet cheek. Ache and remorse stretches over his face at the time lost in the absence of one another. He needs to be honest, barring out the truth if there was even a possibility to start anew. 

“I can’t promise perfection, P.” He admits, scared and worried for this potential dealbreaker. 

“I never asked for perfection.” You shake your head, breath finally coming out even. Pausing, you let the reality of your recent failures sink in, “I just got out of something and I don’t know if I’m any good, but I wanna figure things out with you — do things properly. Please give me time.” Please give us time.

You both loosen your hold on one another, but maintain your gazes as your hands finally intertwine. The hold is weak, full of uncertainty of the future, but you push forward, “Please?” You ask again, heart in your hands — no, heart in his hands. You pray and hope he handles it with care. He has all the power to do the opposite, turning your heart to cold steel for the next poor soul.

He doesn’t, though — can’t imagine anyone but him holding your heart with delicate hands if you allow him to. 

Jungkook’s always wondered when the world would bend for him; yet, he’s got the world in his arms right now willing to bend for his sake. 

He nods and the night bleeds into the morning as you and Jungkook sit on your small couch to catch up, mending lost time with one another. The hours of bitterness leading up to this moment was well worth it after you finally taste the hint of sweetness lodged behind his growing smiles. The catch up bounces back between idle chatters to late night secrets until you both settle into the mundane and content.

“Group work is the worst, P. Avoid it at all costs.” He recounts the number of times his classmates let him down on a project this past semester.

You laugh wholeheartedly. “Why’d you think I run this business alone?”

“Smart girl.” He grins, and your body warms from the small compliment. 

A natural silence fills you both at this time, between the chuckles and stares. You think you could get used to this. A new norm knowing you both want to start over with an agreed upon future. The two glasses of water on your coffee table gets refilled throughout the night, but sits empty now. 

Yet, you’re both so full. 

And you realize no one’s replenishing the glass the way Jungkook does. Around your imaginary glass filled with holes, Jungkook always does his best to cover and mend them.

“I’m sorry for not keeping you posted on my life.” Jungkook says, knees brushing against yours. “I was trying to figure things out on my own.” He leaves out the part where he wanted to reach out for your opinion, opting to struggle by himself.

“Could’ve reached out to me. I wouldn’t have minded.”

He nods, lips pursed debating his next words.

“What?” You ask, eyes heavy from exhaustion, but you don’t want to miss a single second with your special boy.

“Mm, nothing.” His trademark dimples make an appearance when he hides away a playful smile.

“Come on,” you push, “Tell me.”

He laughs softly, lips pulling to an embarrassed smile, “Wanted you to notice me, so I …”

Your eyes narrow, doing your best to piece together the meaning of his words. Something finally clicks as you lean back against your couch. You’d never peg someone like Jeon Jungkook to do things out of spite or attention, but you suppose love has a way of making people do stupid things.

This was love, right?

“I know. Stupid and immature.” He shakes his head.

“It worked.” You shrug, returning his sheepish smile. He interlaces his fingers with you, relaxed knowing you had been trying to keep up with his life in secret. 

He smiles, but shortly after dips a little at his next musing, “Classes have really taken up a lot of my time. I haven’t been able to work as much, but I still take on projects every month or so.”

Your expression falters a little, guilt filling your system as he relays this information. You nod, head leaning to rest on his shoulder.

“Does it bother you?” He asks another forward question. He doesn’t sound as uncertain as he did months ago in the hotel, courage coming as he knows your inevitable answer. 

“A little.” You admit.

You’ll get used to this just as Jungkook needs to get used to this too — that sometimes he will disappoint and hurt. Your acceptance isn’t a form of a bandaid over a reopened wound; instead, allowing the healing process to take on whatever form is needed. Eventually a scar tissue will rise over the persistent lesion, granting you the chance to perform better this time around.

Around 5 a.m. your sleepy eyes fight to stay open as you watch Jungkook put on his shoes. He stands up, eyes heavy but with so much anticipation. Realizes the moment the door shuts behind him, he’ll be left anticipating the next time he’ll be graced with your company again.

He comes close, and with a soft exhale through his nose, he presses his lips to your forehead. Breath fanning over, his voice is low and gravelly on your skin, “See ya, Pix.”

Life with Jungkook, again, is ever soft and changing. The effort is there, the pace of the relationship slow as it should be. Jungkook’s main focus is school now and you’re there to support him along the way. You come over to work while he’s studying or in virtual lectures.

He wants you close. Giving you access to his apartment by creating your personalized finger scan into his home. You also give him a spare key to your place, prompted by a recent out of the city wedding you had to attend and no one else was available to feed Gum and Bubba.

On his large couch, you sit on the opposite end as you answer email inquiries. Wedding season’s peaking again and no matter how busy you may get, you’re never too busy for Jungkook. Nothing stops Jungkook from remaining close to you — not even his overly large couch. He’s never too far, wanting your legs slung over his lap as he listens to his lecture through his headphones. His hands mindlessly massage the bottom of your soles, knowing exactly where you’re most sensitive and tired after a long weekend of being on your feet.

You aren’t quite lovers, but you definitely are not just friends. What you’re building with Jungkook takes time. Lots of failing and hard days, but there are just as many and if more, softer and gentler days where you’re reminded this was all worth it.

Things move as they intend to. Like your slow evening walks, shared hot meals, and camera shutters when Jungkook needs to work on his portfolio or an assignment for class. He tags along with you on a couple of weddings to keep you company, inevitably revealing to you that weddings aren’t his thing. It’s good to be honest with these truths — one less field he’d find himself dipping with in the world of photography. But no matter his contempt, he likes being where you’re at. 

His lecture finishes and he closes his laptop on his table, leaning back as he rests his eyes after realizing how long he’s been on the computer. Sure, school was difficult, but it was structured — no surprises. Just an obligation he willingly signed up for. 

You don’t look up from your laptop, speaking as you type up a response to an inquiry, “What’s on your mind?”

He debates sharing his predicament, hands haven’t stopped his ministrations on your feet as if you were his version of a stress-ball. You breathe through your nose when he hits a particular pressure point.

“I have to go to work next weekend.” He sighs, working on your other foot now. “I’m tired.”

“Can you decline or postpone?” You look up, blue light from your screen bouncing back to your face. 

He shakes his head. “Can’t. I signed a two-parter contract a while back and this is the last installment.”

You close your laptop, feet swinging down to touch his fluffy carpet rug as you scoot closer to him. You were aware contracts and waiver forms existed to protect a business and their clients. In Jungkook’s case, the production he signed with was protecting their assets and securing their future projects. It’s a little demoralizing to view Jungkook as an asset, but that’s how business worked. He had to fulfill his duties to avoid legal penalties.

You lean in and it’s a familiar sight Jungkook’s grown fond of these couple of weeks: cheek squished on his shoulder, you look up with reassuring eyes. ‘It’ll be okay.’

Slowly, you’ve grown to manage the unease of his work, ache returning similar to tides crashing onto land. Sometimes the waves hit stronger than anticipated, but smaller and more manageable tides come ashore.

“Just one day, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll be free to focus on your exams afterwards, hm?” You soothe, setting the scenario to make the finish line easier to visualize.

“Yeah.” He grunts, not completely relaxed at the idea of having to do something he doesn’t particularly want to, but a job was a job.

“Hey,” you sit up higher, “is there anything I can do to make it better?”

Shouldn’t have offered that because there’s probably a number of things Jungkook can list off the top of his head. His tongue grows heavy in his mouth at the mere idea of having anything he wanted from you. 

“Something sweet?” You suggest, brows wiggling up and down.

“Right now?” Declining was never in the books when it came to desserts.

You shake your head with a small laugh, “Whenever you’re done with the project. I can bring something after.”

“Okay, Pix. I’d love that.” His hand holds yours. “Surprise me.”

Nights were always spent like this until it was time for one of you to leave. He walks you to your car, waving at the kind receptionist on the way out to the guest parking lot. No longer embraced in summer’s sweltering heat, fall’s brisk air hits your cheeks when you both step out the complex. You never needed an excuse to press your body closer to Jungkook’s side, hand lodged deep in his coat pocket.

“Bye.” You whisper, tippy-toeing as you press a kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger on his cold skin just a little longer.

The grip around your hands tighten as he fights off the intrusive thoughts of wishing for your lips to move over any expanse of his skin. There’s no need to deny the fact of having impure thoughts of you … had always been the case whether or not you were with him. It doesn’t help when you press your body closer to his, testing the boundaries of your new relationship with each other. Though, the test always stops where it is needed. 

Passing the test, he gulps, “Text me when you get home, ‘kay?”

“I will.”

Five hours of work and he’ll be free. Considering the masses need to work on average an eight hour shift and sometimes more, Jungkook is fortunate for his work hours to salary ratio. Still not easy doing what he does especially since he isn’t in the right headspace at the moment and school’s been eating up his time — a love-hate relationship when it comes to being in a new learning environment. 

He’s been reevaluating a lot these days, wondering how he’ll juggle his profession with school. And when he finds himself thinking too much of the possibilities, he forces himself to run from those thoughts of quitting everything all together. 

In those difficult moments, thinking about you helps calm his nerves about the future and he feels himself landing back on reality. Not everything needs an immediate answer or decision; moreover, he’s allowed to make mistakes. Much like your relationship with him, the ambiguity doesn’t make him run for the hills anymore. Although you and Jungkook don’t currently have any labels for what you are now, there isn't any uncertainty in his devotion towards you.

He checks his bathroom mirror one more time, piercings taken out because today’s shoot may be a little more physically demanding and he isn’t keen on risking any additional injuries like he had sustained in the first shoot. He signed up for the project on a whim because … well, at the time the money and deal seemed decent. BDSM isn’t something he dabbled a lot in on both the receiving or giving end. However, around the same time he signed the contract, he was still grieving the relationship with you and in need of a distraction — something to make him feel again no matter how painful or rigorous to the body. 

After the first shoot, he needed at least two weeks of rest … both mentally and physically. He isn’t fond of his co-star — Jungkook still remembers the numbers the man did to his body despite signaling his discomfort. 

Locking his door, he makes his way to the elevator. The doors open to reveal a familiar face: Yoona. 

She smiles at him, the lines around her eyes crease from the action. Jungkook nods and steps into the elevator next to her. Her strong perfume permeates his senses; a little too floral for his liking in comparison to the subtle cucumber and jasmine scent on your skin he’s grown attached to. 

“Work?” He asks, looking at his phone. It’s nearly noon, a little late to be going into the office. Then again, what does he know about the corporate life?

“Hyunbin wanted me to visit.” Ah, her ex-husband — explains her appearance and unusual demeanor. He assumes a revenge outfit underneath her long fur coat. “You working?”

“Yup.” He exhales through his nose.

Even without his explanation of his reluctance, Yoona reads him easily … just like how she read him the first two weeks after his split with you, choosing to end things with him because she wasn’t fond of messing with someone who was in emotional distress. She’s already got a lot going on and the last thing she wants is a fuckbuddy using her as an emotional crutch.

She’d rather be a friend or a … mentor? Maybe just a friendly neighbor until he got his shit together.

Be it her years of wisdom or her innate ability to read the younger man, she catches wind of his unwillingness to go to work.

“Hang in there.” She offers, just as her friends regurgitated on multiple venting sessions during the nasty divorce process. It’s the bare minimum as a friend if they aren’t able to do more for you.

“Thanks, you too.” He returns the encouragement with a toothy grin. One of the advantages of being taller than most is his ability to spy over people’s phones. Yoona types away in her phone, the prior messages included a clear image of a male’s lower half and her own response with an image of her freshly showered body in a towel. 

Even with her sunglasses on (which, by the way, are totally unneeded with this gloomy weather), she rolls her eyes under the elevator’s fluorescent lights.

“He’s been begging to make things work again.” She places her phone in her purse. 

“You gonna let him back in?” Surely would lessen the alimony she has to pay him.

Yoona scowls, “I may be single, but I am not lonely.” The elevator dings and signals their arrival on the ground floor. “I can have my cake and eat it.” She smiles, red blooming with her pearly white teeth.

Jungkook laughs under his breath, a surge of sweetness also embraces him now after realizing he also has his ‘cake’ too. Hasn’t quite eaten you the way he wants to, but he’s content. Loves where you are both at and is willing to wait till things settle more in life for the both of you.

Yoona clears her throat, strong floral scent leaving along with her as she steps out of the elevators first. “Take care, Jungkook.” Her heels click on the marble floors as she runs out to the cab waiting for her. 

Jungkook sighs again, making his way to his car and already programming the job site’s address into his Maps app.

Five hours and he’ll be done. 

As promised, you have a sweet treat ready to reward Jungkook after his shift.

It’s uncharacteristic of Jungkook to not answer your texts after a couple of hours. You push away the worry as you make your way up the elevators, tiny brown bag containing something rich and icy you’d typically save for the summer. 

Though, there were no rules on when to consume ice cream, especially if it was made by scratch — especially when you made it with your own spin. Anticipation brews as your steps near the front entrance of his home.

Your fingers press on the knob’s scanner and the latch clicks, ready for you to turn and enter into his home.

The living room’s dark, save for the small light Jungkook programmed to turn on at a specific time. There’s no greeting like you’re used to. Hanging your coat and scarf on the stand, you peer past the entryway as you toe off your shoes.

“Jungkook?” You call out with an air of uncertainty. 

Still no answer. Your eyes adjust to the dim surroundings, eyes eventually falling onto a figure you’d recognize in any condition. 

Jungkook’s laid down on his couch, one arm over his eyes. He’s in his sweats, showered and asleep. Your shoulders drop, tip-toeing past him to put the sweet treat into the freezer. You come back to the living room, not without picking up the fallen throw blanket on the ground, placing it on his body.

You could crack open your laptop to do some work in his kitchen until he stirs awake or just leave and let him rest. Straightening up from your bent position, a sharp inhale comes from below as Jungkook removes his forearm from his face and lifts his head up to peer around his surroundings. He sees you and drops his head in relief, breathing patterns stabilizing with a drag of his hand down his face.

“What time is it?”

“A little past 8.” You reply, sitting near his knees. 

“Sorry, Pix. I crashed.” His throat cracks from sleep, “Time slipped.”

“‘S okay.” You reply, pinkie hooking onto his. “Would you like to rest some more? I won’t bother you.”

He swallows, unsure if he would rather be left alone or if he needed your company. He’s not sure he would be good company.

“I don’t know.” His other arm comes up again to cover his eyes. Misery also needed company too, and he doesn’t want to be away from you.

You seem to get the hint. Couch, stiff and hard as ever, seems to bend at the weight of you both for this moment of tenderness. 

“Hard day?” You ask.

His throat bobs, and that’s when you notice the red marks near his Adam’s apple and his wrist. Your lips tug down, fingers itching to soothe the pain over his skin. You curl closer to him, hoping your presence would be enough to redirect his thoughts.

“Yeah. Was difficult.” He replies, voice shaky. His breath comes out uneven as he sniffles into his arm. “Ah, sorry, maybe it’s better if I’m alone.”

He hadn’t realized a couple tears had slipped out from the corners of his eyes until one of your hands cups his jaw, thumb rubbing away some of the moisture in your touch. He sucks in another breath, chest stuttering as a small sob tumbles out. He turns, burying his face into your chest as his arms come from underneath to hold you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes repeatedly. You repeatedly tell him you’re not leaving — that you’re here to stay. Fingers running through his dark locks, your touches force his eyes shut, a relieved sigh exiting as he regulates his breathing. 

“I’m here, you’re okay.” You promise, your nails scratching his head produces a soft whimper as he buries his bigger frame deeper into your body. When you try to pull away to assess his face, he only tugs you in tighter. You chuckle, hand patting and soothing the expanse of his back.

“Kook?”

He grunts, too exhausted to verbalize a reply.

“I’m gonna go make something, okay? You stay here and rest.”

He reluctantly loosens his grip on you, and holds onto the fact you were staying. Accepting your proposal, he goes back into a more dignified position with his arm slung over his eyes.

You move with precision; kitchen layout memorized of where all the seasonings and cooking utensils were located, you come back into the living room with a small pot of ramen in under ten minutes. The wooden heat protector clanks onto his coffee table in your descent to the ground. You wince, apologetic for startling him again.

“Didn’t have to make me food, Pix.” He pushes himself up slowly, face contorting in discomfort as he sits upright.

“Wanted to. Come on, have a bite, please?” You had already started rolling the noodles into the spoon, creating a perfect single bite. You blow on the food a little before Jungkook dips his head halfway to receive the food. 

Unlike the painful expression he previously sported, his brows furrow as he chews on the food — a good sign. Nothing’s more healing than a warm meal; a warm meal made with love. 

“Thanks, P.” He smiles, and the parts of him lost during the hours of the shoot are slowly coming back.

“I’m glad.” Your eyes land on his neck first, then over his wrists where the red rings were most prominent. “Did you want to put on ointment? Tell me where you keep your medicine and I can—”

“It’ll heal on its own.” He declines, ready and rehearsed for your concerns. And because he knows there were a billion other questions in that pretty head of yours, he comes clean on his reasons for tonight’s exhaustion. “Co-star went off script towards the end and it threw me for a loop.” He explains, head rested on the back of the couch.

You nod, arms tightening around him. “That sounds awful. I’m sorry …”

He releases another heavy breath. “I-I don’t know, Pix. It’s usually not this bad.”

“What do you mean?” Frowning, you didn’t think you’d ever witness Jungkook in this state: defeated over the profession he willingly chose and stayed for. 

His blank eyes stare off into the distance, zeroing on the corner of his flat screen television. The corners of his mouth twitch, exhaling a shaky breath before murmuring, “I’m scared to quit.”

And despite his discomfort with the subject, he continues, “I … I’ve been thinking about it and it feels like I can’t focus on other things when I have to think about work.” He also doesn’t want to mention the shame he has in quitting, inevitably proving people right that his line of work was not sustainable in the long-run. He doesn’t want to admit he’s outgrown the field that’s built everything around him: his friends, home, experiences, and … you. If it weren’t for his job, he wouldn’t have found you.

But was gratitude and loyalty needed for a profession that brings him more stress and worries?

Though rare, he’s wrestled with these difficult moments in this field, often wondering how life would be if he didn’t need to endure. What version of him exists outside of the industry? He knows what happiness is, but he’s also familiar with the deep dread and disappointment in staying. 

“It’s scary.” You concede, staring off into the same space Jungkook had fixated. “But I know you’ll figure it out. You’re not alone. I’m here with you no matter what you decide on.”

His eyes well up again. He used to think people were crazy for suffering, crying during and off work hours. Now? He’s no different. Change is scary, but remaining the same is scarier. And he’s remained the same for so long, fighting the norms and societal expectations of him.

All this to realize … he’s also just a boy with dreams and aspirations, hope cupped in his hands waiting to be discovered. The industry may be a part of him, but it was never all he was. While he doesn’t know what the future entails, he knows he needs to do something different — his profession does not define his identity.

“Yes, I know.” He lets you rub gentle circles on his bruised wrist, lets you bring up his wrist and blow a cooling breath over his skin before you lay a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”

You and Jungkook remain like this for a while, just sharing each other’s warmth and company until you perk up about the dessert you brought over. He chuckles as you pry open the container and a peek of light orange reaches his vision. Jungkook relishes in the small notes of cinnamon and persimmons hitting his taste buds.

The container of ice cream gets annihilated within fifteen minutes, cold running down your esophagus and tummy, but there’s always a source of heat in your stomach as you sit close to your biggest source of warmth.

Refusing his offer to walk you to your car, you only allow Jungkook to see you out his door in favor of him resting more.

“Thanks for tonight, P. I really needed this.” He needs you more than ever. Holding your hands, he lets his gaze trail down to your lips before he brings them back up to your eyes. He’s been through this route many times, showing restraint because he knows better than to do something too rushed despite his mind and body screaming at him to disobey the boundary you both set. 

As always, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

It’s enough. Because he feels you through the food you make for him, your touch, and your unwavering care.

As you stare up at him with starry eyes, he also realizes:

Intimacy doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is with you.

Jungkook completed his first semester of courses with flying marks. With a heavy heart, he decided to stop working in adult filming after another week of mulling through his options. In his resolve he tells himself the decision’s indefinite … subject to change. But ever since he let his agent know of his career change, he has not looked back. 

Though the weather remains chilly, spring’s around the corner. The season brings the birds in the early mornings, flowers blossoming around his apartment complex, and the love blooming in his chest whenever he sees you.

Tonight’s a special night for you. Your cohort wanted to do a little social gathering at a club and you invited Jungkook as your plus-one. He wasn’t planning on drinking, opting to be your designated driver for the night. He looks over at you, eyes sparkly with glitter … or perhaps, you glow more under his stares.

Weather’s still cold, but he knows it will warm up at the venue as the night progresses. He lays his brown jacket on your lap as he drives you both to the venue. You’re so pretty in your skin-tight black turtleneck and gold chain necklace. Upon final inspection in your body length mirror, you made a remark how you looked like The Rock minus the fannypack. Jungkook laughed and tugged you along, mumbling how you looked beautiful and how you were going to be late if you did another outfit change. And while the weather is ever turbulent, jumping between hot and cold days, there’s nothing turbulent between you and Jungkook.

Even though you abstained from changing out of your ‘Pre-2012 The Rock’ fit, you were late with how the parking situation worked out. Too many cars, too little parking options when you were deep into the nightlife district of the city. Jungkook parked at an open lot about a twenty minute walking distance. Terrible, you know. But the trip was well worth it with his company. Had you been alone, you probably would have chosen to order a cab, but you’ve never felt safer in Jungkook’s hand as you both walk down the busy streets on a Saturday night. 

“Thanks again for coming with me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Plus,” He squeezes your hand. “You’re coming with me to my friend’s wedding next weekend. So we’re even.”

“Oh no … weddings are so, so, so awful,” you chide with batted lashes. 

He grins, “It is when you gotta be in dress pants.”

You giggle, staring up at the illuminated neon lights around town. “My classmates are excited to meet you, Mr. 9th-Annual-Shutter-Winner.” You grin, the side of your body presses close to him. You look down at his phone where it navigates the leftover walking distance to the club: estimated time of arrival – five minutes.

Jungkook was nervous. Not as a result of meeting your classmates, but he knew a certain someone was going to be there. Kim Taehyung, your best friend and confidant, will also be in attendance. He’s gotten along with him in the past on set. Eccentric guy, a bit of a Namjoon fanatic, but birds of a feather flock together. Namjoon’s creative, kind, and visionary. It’s only natural Taehyung gravitates towards him in this industry.

Regardless, Jungkook’s nervous. He doesn’t voice his concern when you had disclosed that Taehyung was aware of your relationship history with Jungkook. He would never hold you back on talking about your troubles to your friends because it’s important to build that trust and rapport. He hopes his entire persona isn’t completely irreconcilable just yet with the time he’s spent trying to grow and cultivate a healthy relationship with you.

Once in the club, you make your rounds with Jungkook by your side. Lots of new faces, and maybe a select few that were recognizable as a result of the photography competition. 

“Hey Jungkook, heard you were in the photography program,” one of the judges for the past photography competition, Rowoon, smiles, “I know at the end of your photography program they’re going to request for an internship. Let me know if you need help connecting with a photographer.”

“That’d be awesome.” Jungkook smiles.

Jungkook’s appreciative for moments like these, easy conversations blending in with your life. You’ve been surrounded with good people. Well, good enough for you to want to rekindle and meet up every so once in a while.

He watches you from afar now, a mocktail in hand as he lets the ice melt and lessen the syrupy taste of the drink.

You smile into your cup as one of your classmates animate a pose of some sort — probably from a recent project or client. Regardless, he finds himself smiling too, eyes focused on your figure. It’s all tunnel vision, really, how everything around you blurs and this gooey feeling swirls and pools in the pit of his stomach.

He recognizes this, having experienced this similar breakthrough in the past with previous partners. While the hard impact of the realization came far less than this moment, his feelings were undeniable.

He loves you.

An awful realization to have when you guys are out in public and not in privacy, where he can bare his emotions to you freely. His palms sweat, heart accelerating at the welcomed epiphany and rush.

He has been patient and gentle in these last couple of months. That, he’ll give himself credit for. But all the self work he’s done is about to leave as he’s one mocktail sip away from walking over to you and declaring his feelings.

Not the right place nor time. Certainly worse when he can’t drink to distract himself.

“Mind if I join ya?”

Jungkook startles out his thoughts, craning his neck to the side to find Kim Taehyung smiling lazily at him. He simply gestures for the empty stool, all while trying to relocate you after the minor detractor.

Even with the heavy bass of the club music, Jungkook’s eyes still remain on your figure, making sure you’re safe and having fun — as you should always be. 

Taehyung grunts in his descent onto the barstool, gaze following where Jungkook looks at.

“You all socialed out?” Jungkook mindlessly asks — a miracle he’s strung up a coherent sentence. 

Taehyung scoffs at the lack of focus, but replies, “Gets a little tiring explaining my gigs and seeing them react the same way.”

This time, Jungkook stares back at the seated man, completely understanding his sentiment. He knows exactly what Taehyung has experienced being in the industry — their little common ground. 

“You know,” Taehyung begins, “I still don’t get the whole thing with you and her.”

Lips pursed, he drums his fingers on the bar counter, “How so?”

“Friends, but not. Lovers, but not.” Taehyung tips his drink back. “What are you guys even waiting for?”

What was Jungkook waiting for?

“Just want to take our time.” He replies. “Not trying to rush things.”

“Kind of backwards, don’t you think?” He shrugs his shoulders before continuing, “Look man, I’ll be upfront. I’m still on the fence about you.” 

“I know.” Jungkook’s aware he’s far from perfect, knowing his hesitancy in moving forward stems from his insecurities and his fears of hurting you in the process.

“She likes you a lot. And I trust my best friend. If things go sour, well … at least we’ll know how to pick up the pieces this time around.”

Taehyung waves down the bartender for a refill. “I give her a lot of shit for putting herself in a box, but all she does is try. So why don’t you guys try?”

Jungkook’s been so afraid of hurting. In turn, he’s robbing you both of the possibility for something so much more. He loves what he has with you, but was this enough?

You turn, also finding him, and smile.

It’s not enough. He wants more — he needs more.

Taehyung settles back as he watches the scene unfold in front of him with a smug smile. 

Finally.

Jungkook’s on autopilot as he weaves through the crowd. The back of his neck grows sweaty, less from the stuffy venue and more from his nerves and this final act of trying to do the right thing for once. He wants to do right by you, and right now all he wants is to be near you.

He needs to be near you.

You seem to think the same too, placing your empty glass onto the edge of the bar top. There aren’t any remnants of green or cherries, only a sliver of yellow on the bottom he recognizes as his trademark drink.

His heart drums against his chest as you do a quick side hug with the classmate, so eager to get to him in the midst of the hazy, man-made smoke and crowded dance floor.

The path to you was damn near impossible to get to, packed like sardines and people unwilling to move. Though, you both will always find a way to each other. Head tilted, you motion Jungkook to the side of the dance floor. It’s dimly lit, some of the club’s strobing lights don’t touch. Light’s not needed because you’re forever drawn to each other.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, eyes slightly droopy as your hand finds his. “Sorry. Haven’t been able to hang out with you that much tonight.”

He shakes his head, placing your hand behind his neck. Your fingers search for the longer locks he sported in the winter months, but you’ve always preferred his shorter cut. The prickle of the undercut was something you’ve longed for all night long. His silver hooped earrings graze your exposed wrist, the cold metal offering a nice touch on your hot skin.

He shakes his head, “‘S okay, Pix.” You both sway, neither of you really know what song is playing. It all blurs to white noise when you’re with each other. “Did you catch up with everyone?”

“Mhm.” You hum, leaning in to press your face against his chest. There’s a slight drop to your shoulders signifying your exhaustion, but Jungkook reads your demeanor like the back of his hands.

With a hum, he murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

“Everyone’s in production companies.” You sulk, frown felt on his strong front. 

Your words hold a little bitterness, a hint of dejection at the idea you weren’t exactly doing what everyone was doing. But that’s what made you special. You’re doing what you want to do and you’ve stuck by it.

“You ever think about joining one?” He asks into your hair. 

You lift your head from his chest, chin digging into his sternum. “It’s not for me, but sometimes, I feel like I’m missing out.”

Just like how he thinks he might miss out on something wonderful if he continues as things are, but a club where you’re having a reunion with old classmates isn’t the right time or place for a confession.

Jungkook nods. “Can do whatever you want. The world’s your oyster.”

He doesn’t need any of the strobing lights or a spotlight in the tiny nook you’ve both claimed with the way you smile at him. Not when you stare up at him like he’s the world, ready to be claimed by you. Before he does anything too impulsive, he leads you both closer to the center of the dance floor. Back turned to him, his hands rest on the dips of your hips. Chin tucked in the crook of your neck, he takes in your jasmine and cucumber scent, wondering if you’re just as addicted to his scent. 

“Did you have your usual?” He mumbles into your ear.

You shake your head, shivering from his voice. “Midori sour’s not always on the menu.”

He hums in agreement, thinking back to the arrangements he made at the club he hosted his celebratory party at. Honestly, there was no major issue requesting the addition of the drink; the manager was happy to accommodate. 

“What’d you have earlier?” His voice comes out low, rumbling against you.

You nearly whimper your answer as he circles his arms around your midsection, not wanting to lose any physical contact from you. “Highball.”

His grin stretches across his face, muscle memory as his mouth salivates for the drink. “Did you like it?”

You turn around now, and Jungkook does little to reposition his forehead on yours. This time, another type of restraint courses through his body as his eyes bounce between your hooded stare and pouty lips.

“Mm, I wanted to try what you liked. Not my thing,” you conclude. “Wasn’t sweet at all.” 

Jungkook doesn’t need the additional sweetness in his drinks when he’s surrounded by sweetness in his life. Can do away with sugar because you’re here. 

“What did you have tonight?” You ask back.

“Wild night with some sort of wild berry mocktail.” He teases.

“Lucky, I wish I had that.” Your eyes drop to his lips — he follows your line of vision as you look back up at him.

“Was nice.” He concedes, voice dropping an octave. “Better if it was a highball.”

The music’s loud, but nothing’s louder than the drumming in his ears — the voice in his head yelling at him to close the gap between you two. The same gap you both maintained in these last couple of months. It’s been working so well for you two, reworking your foundation and taking things slow all while hoping it would lead to your desired goal: each other.

Jungkook’s forehead remains on yours, lips parted slightly at your delayed blinks. And although the label had always blurred between the two of you, he had always been yours. Yours, when he entered the establishment with his hand on your hips, guiding you away from rowdy groups at the main point of entrance. Yours, when all you’ve done tonight was match his stares, wanting so badly to be in his company instead of folks you haven’t spoken to in years face to face.

All yours.

“Want a taste?” You ask, making no move to go to the bar. He stays rooted there too, knowing full well he’s not allowed a single drop of alcohol in his system. The entrancement lasts all but a second before a flicker of fear flashes across your features. 

Deja vu.

Was this all a figment of your imagination and it could get ripped from you any moment? If you lean in like you did months ago, would you be punished by rejection again?

Your brows furrow, eyes pleading up at Jungkook to answer your unspoken questions.

And he reads you so easily — remembers you and knows your insecurities before you do sometimes.

He breathes you in, nose now nestled against your own with no intentions of ever leaving.

“Please?” Your warmth fans over to him, a soft plea worthy of ending wars Jungkook would only qualify as his own battles.

He thinks about that night at the club where you had left him, foolishly clutching onto the flimsy cone-shaped cups while the world spun with you nowhere in sight. Thinks about the prospect of you leaving again and how ruined he’d be without you.

Jungkook pleads with you too now, “Please don’t leave me.”

You shake your head. “I’m right here.”

He thinks he deserves a little bit of heaven. Funny, how he thinks the universe could grant him kisses from a million angels, but he’d only want a lifetime of yours. The last thing he sees are two slow blinks from your sparkly-glittered lids, pulling and signaling him into a soft landing: to home — he finally finds his way back home.

He cups your face, delicate in how he holds you because there’s nothing more he’d like to do than to handle you with all the care and tenderness in the world. He sighs into your lips, relieved to finally have you like this. Where you both meet in the middle now.

Highball, in the simplest terms, was bland whiskey. The taste of the drink was probably the furthest thing you can get to the sweetness of your typical midori sour. And yet, you still tried for him. He knows how much you try for him and you’ve done your best to accept him — the work and effort you put into adoring Jungkook never goes unnoticed.

He doesn’t taste the highball, none of the usual remnants of the drink he’s grown to like as he runs his tongue over your plump lips. Perhaps it’s also that he no longer searches for that familiar aftertaste; instead, welcoming something he’s longed for and missed these months. His tongue moves over your lips again, slow and deliberate to savor the sweetness. 

Your mouth parts for him, a tentative push of his tongue and you’re reduced to putty. He trails one hand down your hip, pulling you flush against him. 

It’s all muscle memory, how puzzle pieces fit just for you and Jungkook. He groans against your mouth, the low sound vibrates through your body, sending a shock through your body and heat building in your middle.

Your name is all but a rasp as Jungkook goes straight to your lips again after your small whine. He can’t get enough of you, the background noise and people blurring in his pursuit of you. You kiss him back. Months after months of waiting, slowly rebuilding, knowing exactly where the finish line is … and the kiss now was just one of your many monumental milestones with Jungkook.

He needs to pull away for air, mindful of your own state too despite his unwillingness to stray away. It’s everything he’d expect a kiss from you to be after all this time: sweet, with no hint of the drink he fancied. 

Nose nestled to yours and brazen smiles exchanged, Jungkook does his best to regulate his breathing.

“You’d ever give highball another try, Pix?” He breathes, peppering tinier kisses on your lips, rendering it nearly impossible to properly respond.

“Yeah.” You reply in between kisses. “I’d try it again. It’s worth another chance.”

When he finally pulls away with much reluctance, his heart drums against his chest at your response — at your implication. 

You wanted this with him. 

“You’ll teach me how to properly drink it?” You look at him with the softest gaze.

He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Will drink it with you.”

No one was talking about the drink. Though, much like the drink, love and affection was always better shared and experienced together. 

And it’s so much better savoring those moments with you.

You and Jungkook eventually leave the dance floor to socialize with your other classmates, catching Taehyung with a content smile as he peers down at your interlinked hands. Jungkook’s hand involuntarily tightens around yours and you look up, eyes holding a playful curiosity as to what he wants.

You mouth, ‘You tired?’

He shakes his head no, though, his droopy eyelids and slight sway to his body tells you otherwise. You’re also tired too, wanting nothing more than to be with your desired source of warmth.

You quickly make your rounds, bidding your farewells and blaming your age for not being able to stay longer. Thankfully, a couple of your other classmates left before you, so your attempt to leave didn’t look out of the blue. Your goodbye with Taehyung takes a little longer as he whispers something in your ear, eyes playful as you pull away and lightly smack his arm. 

Jungkook smiles once you’re back by his side, the cold night air hitting you both outside the club. He offered to run to the car while you wait back, but you insisted on coming with him. “Ready for the walk, Miss Rock?” 

With narrowed eyes, you huddle closer, pretty pout on your lips he so wants to kiss. 

“You said I looked great.” You huff, beginning the long trek back to the car. 

“The Rock looked great, and so do you, Pix.” He teases.

Three minutes into your walk, a random downpour starts out of nowhere. 

Jungkook takes off his brown jacket, slinging it over both your bodies as you do your best to run from the rain. Shared incredulous giggles and glances with each other made the trip back even better. Unable to fully avoid the downpour, Jungkook opts to just cover you with his jacket. The theatrics continue once a car passes, wheels producing a splash over your bodies.

Unneeding of the jacket now, you lower the jacket around your shoulder, tugging Jungkook through the rain as you both near the car. He looks at you from behind, catching your stare back while urging him to move quicker. 

But he’s in no rush.

He’s never been in a rush with you.

Steps coming to a halt, you look back again with a questioning expression. His hair’s matted on his forehead, eyes squinting from the rain water, but he can see you so clearly under the yellow of the streetlights.

He says your name, your steps stumble as you land in his embrace. Cold fingers run on your cheek before he admits, “I don’t think I can just be what we’ve been. I want this with you — I want to be with you.” 

He doesn’t ask you if you want the same. Didn’t have the chance as his eyes widened the same moment your lips met his.

Rain beats down on your bodies, hard and punishing. The cold water seeping through your clothing is nothing compared to the heat searing from your bodies. Your fingers run through his hair from behind, urging him closer if it were possible. His hold on you tightens and you unconsciously arch into him, no longer caring how the rain water runs down your face.

Jungkook breaks apart from the kiss, “It’s always been you, P.” Warm breath on your lips as he utters words he's long realized and wanted to tell you, “I … I’m in love with you.”

It’s freeing. Not just his confession, but how the rain continues washing out everything around you both. The good, the bad. The aftermath of a storm allows for rebuilding — for flowers to blossom, for growth and to start anew.

He thinks about all the time spent together and apart — the happiness, trust, and fears … it all inevitably brings him back to you. And as the rain waters continue to fall, he finds himself free falling into your embrace — the easy love.

“I love you,” You profess, brows pulling together tears mixing in with the rain, “So much. You know that, yeah?”

He does. But even so, he still asks, “Please be with me.” He chews on the inside of his mouth, so fearful of rejection as though you could choose any other route. “Please?”

You nod, leaning in for a kiss that could only seal your answer to him. “I’m yours. Always been yours.”

A relieved chuckle stutters from his chest, holding you close. “Home?”

“Home.” You reply.

Jungkook’s home was closer in proximity, so it would only be natural to head over there to change out of your soaked clothes. Even with the seat warmers turned onto the highest setting and his jacket slung over your lap like it was in the beginning of the night, you shiver and shudder in your seat.

“Can use my shower too, P.” He pushes his wet bangs back and reasons, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Mmkay,” Your teeth involuntarily chatters, hands tucked in between your thighs underneath his jacket to retain your heat.

His hand naturally finds yours. “We’ll be home soon, ‘kay?”

Back at his home, he gives you a spare t-shirt with some sweatpants, letting you know that he’ll shower at the guest bathroom while you use the master bedroom’s. It’s not your first time in his bedroom, having been there a couple times when he was busy and needed you to retrieve something for him in there. The citrus scent embraces you as you walk in, fingers tightening around his clothes. He’s fumbling around his dresser to get his own clothing, hair dried to a damp mess and coarse at the ends from the washed away hair products. His shirt drags over his large frame, seemingly heavier around the shoulder area from the rainwater.

Back still turned away, he cranes his neck to you and catches your curious stare. “Go on and use the shower, P.”

You nod, clothes feeling unbearingly tight whether it be from the rain or the suffocating dilemma of not wanting to leave Jungkook’s side.

In the shower, he’s still with you through the shampoo and body wash. You run your hands around your body, knowing this is your way of keeping him close. Will you need to go home after this? Does the mirage end here with the suds of soap pooling at your toes?

Does it end with his scent on your body?

All dried and in his clothes, you stare at the mirror, a small smile playing at your lips at the visual of your body drowned in his oversized t-shirt. You roll the bottom of the sweatpants and tug at the drawstrings to secure around your waist.

You peer into his bedroom. “Jungkook?” No response. 

Walking out to the living space, you notice a tuft of hair on the large couch’s armrest. Two glasses of water — all full — just like your heart, rests on the coffee table. Peering over the couch, your lover lays there, eyes closed with a rhythmic breathing pattern nowhere close to being asleep.

You come around and seat yourself on the edge of the couch. An unsuspecting force pulls you down, followed by a small ‘oomph,’ you attempt to sit back up.

“Can we rest a little before I take you home?” He mumbles, breathing into your hair.

Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heart thumping way too fast for rest. Working up your courage, you snuggle into his warmth as you murmur, “It’s late. Don’t want you driving at this hour.” Before he could ask if you’d want him to fetch a cab, you follow up with, “If it’s okay … can I stay over tonight?”

The drumming in his chest speeds up, but his words come out assertive. “Of course, P.”

The guest room sits empty as Jungkook leads you back to his bedroom, a sleepy smile on his face as he catches your yawn and places the glass of water onto the nightstand closest to where you’ll sleep. He hooks his index fingers in the collar of his shirt and yanks it over his head, tossing the article of clothing on the ottoman near the foot of his bed.

You swallow, eyes raking over his toned body you’ve grown so familiar with. His tattoo lines look darker under the warm hues of his nightlight. Underneath his covers, your eyes fight to stay open, only allowing them to blink shut when he encircles his arms around you.

“Night, P.” He mumbles.

“Good night, Kook.”

Around 5 a.m. you wake up with the worst case of dry mouth, having already drank the glass of water in the middle of the night, and another time Jungkook refilled without your knowledge. You pout at the glass sitting pretty and empty on the nightstand.

There’s an unfamiliar weight on your midsection causing you to suck in a breath as you look down. Intricate patterns and faded colors greet you before you turn your head to meet their owner.

Jungkook’s on his front, pouty mouth parted and lashes kissing the top of his cheeks. His rhythmic light snores tell you he’s still in deep slumber if not for the sleep-lines on the side of his face where he buries himself further into his fluffy pillows.

There’s a stillness in waking up next to Jungkook like this — at the realization there’s no need to run or leave. He’s here within a distance you can comfortably reach. 

You think back to last night, between the kisses and confessions, everything seemed like a dream. You’re tempted to reach over to brush away the strand of his bangs. Want to see if he’d stir awake and look at you as he did before you both fell asleep last night.

That’s the funny thing about love — can’t bear the selfishness and greed of your own desires. So instead, you do your best to uncurl from his lazy hold, already missing his warmth as you grab the rims of your glass to fetch some water.

You’ve only been over in the afternoon and evening, never knowing the brisk morning air. Jungkook’s room was warm, temperature maintained by the heat of your bodies, but in the open living space, you shiver a little from cold and the absence of a familiar body.

Glass refilled, you make your way back to Jungkook, but something pulls you to an abrupt stop.

You’ve only seen this view at night, always curious how differing the morning view would be. Orange peeks and greets you on the horizon, begging for your presence even when there is another star you rather be with.

Just a couple more minutes and the sun will rise — a view you’ve never seen from here. Lips nursing on your glass, you smile as you hear another pair of feet shuffle in your direction. Not subtle at all. He makes his presence known with a small yawn, standing behind you, he presses his chest against you from behind and wraps his arms around your abdomen.

“Whatcha doing up so early?” Voice laced with sleep.

“Wanted to get water,” you bring the glass up to his view, “sun’s about to rise now.” You nod at the window. 

His body vibrates against yours at a particularly low chuckle. “‘S nice, isn’t it? Can see everything from here.”

You hum in agreement. You love the view, love his touch, love him. And because you love him, you give him the remainder of your water. Glass now empty again, he sets the cup on a small stand. The surrounding air stifles as a strong pair of arms wrap around you tighter, cluing in a shift in the easy morning conversation.

“P, I meant everything I said last night.” He says, afraid you hadn’t retained any recollection of last night’s event — as though all the magic last night was all but a trick and illusion.

There’s no illusion in your adoration for him, turning away from the sun, you realize you have everything in front of you worth orbiting for.

“I meant everything too.” You reply, feeling the sun warm your back, but even that source of warmth wasn’t enough incentive to have you turning away from Jungkook again. “I love you. Wanna be with you.”

You tip-toe, lips pressing delicately against his only spurs on his tiny moan as he meets you in the middle. His teeth nibble on your bottom lip, causing you to part them with a small gasp. He takes this moment to lick into your mouth, tongue running against yours to savor you. He could blame the morning wood on … well, the morning, and not your soft lips, but he’s wanted you like this for so long and now you’re finally his.

He angles your chin, doing his best to distract you from the bulge pressed against your stomach, to which you also push against. Grunting, he huffs into your mouth, “Pix, please.”

You hum a small ‘what?’

So dangerous of you to push something he’s been suppressing for months. Aching for your touch, but he’s respectful of the change in dynamics. He wants to be respectful now, but was there a need?

“I’m trying to be good.” He mumbles, kissing along your jaw and making his way down your neck. His teeth rake against the expanse of your skin, reveling in your shivers and the way your nails dig into his back.

“You are good.” You sigh prettily. “So good to me.”

And because of this, Jungkook wants to show you other ways he could be good to you. It’s what you deserve — nothing makes him happier than making you feel good. Back pressed against the glass panes, the initial cold morphs and changes with the sun and your combined body heat.

His hand snakes up your shirt, large palm halting at your stomach until you nod for him to move. You moan at the contact of his thumb moving over your hardening bud.

“Feels good, pretty?” He mouths against your neck.

You swallow and nod, “J-Jungkook, can people,” another moan slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive juncture of your neck, “see us from here?”

Being on the thirty-fourth floor had its perks and advantages. He doesn’t have next door neighbors except for the floor above and below him, which works in his favor. 

“No one can see us, P.” He shakes his head, “You want them to?”

He grips your chest a little harder, urging for an answer before he continues. Head lifted to your face, his hooded eyes draw you in. 

“No,” you place a soft kiss on his jaw, “Want this just between us.”

He also can’t imagine having another person watch you both. Can’t imagine sharing an experience like this with someone other than you. 

“Yeah, it’s just you and me.”

The hand on your hip runs up your front, cupping your cheek first before he slips a soft request while looking at your lips, “Open, please.”

Your mouth parts, and his hand drags over your cheek, his middle and ring finger probing and sliding over your wet muscle. His cock twitches in his sweats at the thought of possibly feeling your mouth again. Those thoughts break the moment you close around his digits, warm and wet around him. Your cheeks hollow without command as you eagerly suck on his fingers. You look at him with determined eyes, fighting to stay open but loses the battle before fluttering shut when his thumb runs over your hard nipple again.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises, “‘s that okay?”

You nod, unable to verbalize a response with his fingers in your mouth. Soon his wet fingers slip out of your mouth and he slips them past the waistband of your folded sweats.

“Oh god,” Your hips buck back from the sudden contact of his fingers, ass pushed against the glass. “P-please.” You beg, unsure of what exactly but Jungkook takes it as a request to move. His middle finger slots perfectly between your wet folds, circling around the bundle of nerves. 

“Wanna touch you, too.” You plead, “Can I?”

He tips his forehead against yours, hips pushed against your hand. “Uh-huh, want you to touch me.”

Your hand slips into his sweats, making contact with his bare length. The angle of your bodies makes it difficult to tug or squeeze as you like, but he shudders just by the mere contact of your soft hand.

“P, don’t—” He moves back slightly to peer down at your hand working over his length. “Don’t tease.” 

Lip tucked between his teeth, his own hand speeds up over your clit, wet sounds growing by the second. He hopes you do the same too, but you keep your lazy strokes, watching him with hooded eyes. “Not,” you pause, eyes closing when he nears you, pressing a dainty kiss, “teasing.”

“Tell me what you need.” You murmur against his lips.

“Faster,” He whines, “need you to go faster—fuck—” He groans when you comply, hand picking up the pace.

And be it from the patience and time endured after months of dreaming of being with you … or he was just that easy, he finishes in his sweats in under a minute. Your hand slowly jerks over his length, hand coated in his cum.

“Koo, did you cum?” You breathe, unsure from the sudden liquidy warmth. He moans a small yes, angling his head for your kisses on his neck, teeth dragging over his collarbone as a reward for his confirmation. Your hand glides over the head of his sensitive cock. “Made a mess all for me.”

He kisses you, deft fingers on your clit as he touches away the embarrassment of cumming before he’s gotten to properly take care of you. It’s no give or take situation, but he wants to give back to you.

He removes his hand and you nearly cry out at the loss of his touch. Your cum covered hand gets tugged from his pants at the same time. Doesn’t care you’re unconsciously wiping away your hand on your shirt — everything was going into the wash anyway, ridding any evidence of the sinful acts you’ll both willingly partake in.

How sinful were they if they were embarked by two people in love? 

Fingers hooked on the waistband of your sweats, he drags them down your hips, leaving both your soaked underwear and pants pool at your ankles. His eye contact never wavers as he drops down on his knees, only breaking at the long shirt length covering your bare cunt. With a knowing glance, you hold the bottom of the shirt, while the other one falls on the side of his head for support as nudges your legs apart. 

“So perfect,” he praises, eyes peering up at you, “All mine.” His fingers form a ‘v’ as he spreads your glistening folds, mouth watering at the sight of your twitching clit. He moves in, placing a kiss on the side of your pussy, just shy of your nub. The action has you furrowing your brows, mouth dropping open as you involuntarily push your hips forward.

You mewl, thighs closing when he finally slots his tongue over the self-made opening between his fingers. He licks, sucks, and kisses the tiny nub. And you stand there, taking everything he’s willing to give you. He loves watching you struggle maintaining eye contact, loves the shy smile you give him when you had a moment of realization of how loud you were in the early hours of his home, and loves the small tug from your fingers in his hair when he repeatedly presses his lips to your clit.

You were already so close before this, but now he has you tipping on the edge again. Jungkook’s eyes close, tongue lapping your cunt.

Your thighs shake, breath caught in your throat as he continues the motions. And even though he’s not looking at you, he knows you’re about to let go as you rock your hips into his face. Using one hand, his fingers dig into the back of your thigh as he brings one of them over his shoulder.

“Baby–” You rasp.

“Hm?” He answers, muffled against your core. The vibrations against your cunt have your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your lids slam shut from the sensation.

You whimper, stomach clenching at the first signal of your orgasm. Your fingers clutch pathetically at the end of the shirt, mindful of the other hand interlocked with his locks. But you’re bolder now, know what you like and need … and what you like is Jeon Jungkook moaning against your core, encouraging you to cum. What you need is to extend this feeling for as long as you can, so you push his head closer as you grind your spasming cunt to his face.

“Cumming,” you manage to get out, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming.”

Jungkook can’t answer, wishes he could; though, all his wishes are being fulfilled as he’s head deep between your legs. He pulls away after your hips press back against the glass, signaling your sensitive state. Hooded gaze fixed, he takes in the visual of your cheek pressed onto your shoulder — a habit he’s noticed every time you’ve cummed. Your eyes blink open slowly, blinded by the light coming in from the rising sun.

“I’m sorry, P.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all with his mischievous grin as he kisses your inner thigh — the one he has thrown over his shoulder. “You missed the sunrise.”

You croon, a small playful pout on your lips. “I did.” You release his hair, hand cupping his jaw. You moan in surprise when he latches onto your clit again, lazy sucks as he peers up at you.

He places one last kiss to your nub and suggests, “Should turn around then, take in the current view.” He leaves out the fact that you’ll have plenty of more chances to see the view.

He places your leg down. While wobbly at first, you plant your feet sturdy before complying with his request. He’s right — the city’s beautiful. 

Jungkook also has the best view in the city too. 

You look back at him from your shoulder, eyes catching his, “You’re not watching with me?”

“Perfect view here.” He scoots back a little, ignoring the discomfort and numbness in his knees. You brace against the glass, fist clenched tightly at the anticipation of what your lover wants to do. No one cares about the prospect of a stained glass as you hinge your hips out to him, the underside of your wet pussy entrances him.

He pushes your shirt up over the curves of your hips and the sight before him has his cock hardening in his sweats again. A creamy white sheen trickles down your slit, begging to be licked up before it dribbles onto the floor.

And he does. With a cock to his head, he slots his mouth over your leaky cunt.

You wail, cheek pressed against the glass as you fog up a small section with your warm puffs of air. His tongue laps over your clenched hole, pleased you haven’t pulled away from him. He rewards you with a small probe of his tongue and you surprise him again by pushing back, tongue gliding into your warm cavern with little resistance.

You both moan, caught in the euphoric moment of this new experience. 

He reels his head back, spreading you wide to look at your gaping pussy — all his doing.

“Please,” you beg, greedy for his mouth. Without warning, he dives back in, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole with a new profound hunger. One of his hands comes from under and rubs at your clit. The new feeling has your legs shaking again, your hand coming around to place on top of his to ground yourself.

He pulls away, placing wet kisses alongside your thighs. “You liked that, Pix?”

“Yeah, I loved it.” You reply, looking back at him through your lashes.

“Good.” He chuckles, stomach warm from your confession, “Keep looking at the view though. Sun’s pretty today.”

The sun’s pretty every day, you think to yourself as you look at your source of light. But you turn away, obedient as you look at the rays the rest of the world relies on. 

“Gonna do something new, ‘kay?” He says, strained as he places a small kiss on one of your cheeks. He lets his teeth graze your skin, fingers digging into the meat of your ass to gain your confirmation. “Tell me if you don’t like it.”

You nod, can’t think of anything you won’t like aside from being away from Jeon Jungkook, but you’re sure to vocalize any discomfort for whatever journey he’s about to embark with you.

“Open wider for me.” He husks. You comply, feet shuffling apart as you hinge lower. 

You couldn’t predict what he wanted to try with you, certainly not anything remotely close to how he parts your ass and you feel his breath on your skin before he leans in.

You nearly cry out at the first lick over the tight ring of your asshole. There was an adjusting period, one that involved your breasts pressed hard against the window, mouth hanging open as Jungkook goes in for another lick.

It’s not unpleasant. New, like he mentioned.

“You taking in everything, P?” His finger slips over your cunt, long index finger teasing the entrance. He takes his time running his fingers between your wet folds, watching your bleary eyes struggle to stay open. It’s fine. You’ll have plenty more opportunities to see the view in the future — he’ll make sure of it.

You moan at the feeling of his finger probing the entrance of your pussy, hole clenched around nothing as he continues teasing you.

“Hm? Answer me, pretty.” His tongue teases around your taint. This time, you relax into it, even going as far as pushing back.

“Mhm,” you try, “‘s pretty.”

You have your head turned again, watching him the best you could, completely unfocused from the view beyond the massive curtain wall. A wrecked moan escapes the moment his long digit pushes into your sensitive cunt — just up to the first knuckle, nothing more. At the same moment, his tongue guides itself past the tight ring of your hole.

You don’t know what to focus on: his tongue fucking into your ass or his finger coated in your arousal as he has you plugged up on both holes simultaneously.

Jungkook’s always been an ass man, and he honors the title as he continuously dives his head between your cheeks. The finger inside your other hole stays in place, never pushing another inch until you whine and reach between your legs. Your fingers touch the top of his, pushing at them to sink deeper into your pussy.

He pushes his digit into you, the full length wrapped around your wet walls. “Do what you need to make this feel good.” He says. “Want you to feel good.”

A content sigh leaves your lips as you rub slow circles, pleasure building again in your stomach as each minute slips by. You’ve never been one to cum multiple times … unfortunately, you’re no better than a man. One and done type of girl, but the eagerness to cum again from this new experience has you motivated and greedy for more. Especially when the experience is with someone you love and care for.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” You announce, pushing your ass back to his face as he continues fucking his tongue into your ass. He groans and nods, picking up the pace from behind with fervor at the mention of your orgasm.

His finger gradually speeds up, curling a little before he decides to add another finger in. 

Oh.

“This okay?” He asks as he senses a change in your demeanor at the sudden intrusion.

You whimper, body stiff and rigid during the adjustment period. The stretch has you halting before you’re rubbing feverishly against your clit, babbling and begging for him to move faster. 

Jungkook’s lucky on the thirty-fourth floor. So lucky no one’s able to hear the the sounds you make both from your mouth and wet cunt as he fucks his digits faster as requested. He curls his fingers and your legs start shaking, your hand no longer able to move as you take everything Jungkook gives from behind.

You gasp, his name falls from your lips as you let go. There’s definitely an imprint of your mouth and cheek on his glass window now, memoirs of the acts you both committed. 

The wetness grows between your legs, both holes pulsating as you finally cum around him again. Jungkook groans, letting you ride out your orgasm as you need.

He removes both his fingers and tongue from your holes and parts your ass to marvel at the mess you’ve made. The puffy ring of your ass shines with his spit, while your pussy quivers from the aftermath of your strong orgasm. He thinks about how it would be if you were stuffed full of him right now, but he’s in no rush with you. Knows there’s no time constraint to loving you right this time around. Your shirt drops from the curve of your hips and down to your knees as you stand upright, turning and pressing your back to the glass again. Jungkook stands up, fingers already in his mouth to lick up any remnants of cum. 

His arms wrap around your waist to hold you up, forehead touching yours as it’s meant to. Doesn’t go for a kiss no matter how much he wants to because he’s not sure of your aversion after where his mouth has been. But you don’t care, looping your arms over his neck and slotting your lips over his for a messy kiss, eventually reduced to small pecks.

“You okay, P?” He asks with round eyes. You nod and ask the same in a hushed whisper.

Why wouldn’t he be when he’s got all he’s ever wanted in his arms? He rubs over your back in a soothing motion, “More than okay, P.”

More kisses are shared, until Jungkook murmurs how he’s still tired and wants to go back to bed. You look at the clock and as tempted you are, you hum and shake your head. His eyes widen at your response, about to offer a quick retort, but you beat him to it.

“You said you had registration for the upcoming semester in a couple hours. Didn’t you say you needed to work on a schedule?”

He tips his head back, both grateful and upset at your memory after he mentioned it to you in passing last week. 

Still, these things can be done while in the comforts of his bed and your company. Hand enclosed in his, he tugs you back to his bedroom, no longer omitting the same warmth when you left.

But perhaps, the warmth was anywhere you were with Jungkook.

Saturn takes twenty-nine years to complete its cycle. When you turned twenty-nine, you thought your Saturn was still out there, taking their sweet time with the journey back home.

“Pixie?” 

“Coming!” You call out, finishing the last touch of your dusty-pink blush. Smoothing out your sage-green dress, you do a small once-over in your mirror before properly greeting your boyfriend. 

Your Saturn’s returned, watching you embark on your new adventure, cheering you on through your wins and losses. Jungkook smiles from the doorway, leather dress shoes placed neatly on the side. His hair is styled as he would for all the wedding events he’s gone to with you, but this was a new suit. Usually in black, the light grey suit brings out his dark features even more — boyish charms emulated with his suit jacket off and hooked on his fingers over a shoulder. The brooches on his vest glimmer on the side, adding a nice finishing touch to his wedding guest look for the evening.

He shines either way when his orbs land on your features, taking in your soft curls and dress you’ve chosen. 

“Pretty.” He’s kind enough to not kiss you, seeing you’ve just freshly applied your lipstick, but you’ve never been opposed to reapplying. You tip-toe to plant a soft kiss, not enough to transfer any product, but enough to tempt him for further damage.

“You look very handsome.” You say, hands automatically coming up to fix the angle of his tie. Spring’s weather is ever unpredictable and today’s one of the more warmer days of the week, but the temperatures rise in the small nook of your home as he stares at you.

To avoid any potential deterrence, you move behind him to get to your shoe rack. He presses his back against the wall opposite to you, watching as you crouch down to pick out a strappy nude heel.

“What if we skipped the wedding, Pix?”

You pout, blowing at the random strands of hair in your peripheral. “Your friend would be disappointed. Plus, we both got all done up. Would be a waste if we didn’t go.”

“It’s not a waste,” he replies, “can just have a night in.”

“Also would give me an excuse to get out of these dress pants.” He adds with a scowl. 

You lean away, doing a double take on the slacks he has on. You’ve always fancied a guy in dress pants and Jungkook was no exception. Loves how his thighs fill up the spaces and how his ass looks in them.

“Couple hours and we can have a night in.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I’ve got a watermelon in the fridge waiting for us.”

The wedding was standard, especially with it belonging to someone you don’t know. Technically most, if not all, weddings you’ve gone to have belonged to strangers. But there was something special about this wedding — it’s the first time you attended a wedding with Jungkook where you aren’t working.

Weddings have always felt magical; the usual string of fairy lights and flower arrangements appear even more enchanting tonight. And you realized, the enchantment started months ago at Yoongi and Hoseok’s union.

During cocktail hour, he made sure to get all your favorite finger foods without request. When the ring bearer and flower girl comes into view during the ceremony, he’s quick to move higher on his seat, letting you peer past him to get a better look at the little ones. And when he holds your waist during the reception’s dance, you know weddings are magical because the moment’s shared with him.