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A soft morning turns intense and ends in comfort: light slips through the blinds across warm skin and tangled sheets, as sleepy teasing over breakfast slowly shifts until the kitchen feels like a promise.
pairing: jeon jungkook x fem/reader
genre: morning after. domestic fluff. smut. possessive jk. established relationship
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting soft stripes across the tangled sheets. The room still carried the faint scent of soap and something warmer, something shared.
Jungkook lay on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, breathing slow and deep. When his eyes finally opened, he squinted at the light before turning his head toward me. The moment he saw me, something in his expression shiftedāsleep melting into quiet focus.
His hand slid under the covers, finding my hip, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles.
"Morningā¦" he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
His gaze lingered on my face, taking in every detail now visible in the soft daylightāthe same details he had memorized in the dark.
"Sore?" he asked, low and knowing.
I hummed softly in response.
A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, satisfied. His thumb paused, then resumed its slow movement as he pushed himself up slightly, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face.
"Good," he murmured. "Means I did my job right."
I gave a small, sleepy sound, and his lips curved into a soft smile.
"Cute," he added, leaning closer until his face hovered just above mine. "You always get like thisā¦ quiet, all soft." His thumb traced along my jaw. "Makes me want to keep you here all day."
Another content hum left me.
He sighed, settling back but keeping his hand on me. "I'll make something to eat. Stay right here."
I nodded faintly.
He smiled, warm and lazy, squeezing my hip before leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of my lips. Then he sat up, stretching, muscles shifting under his skin before he glanced back at me.
"You're getting eggs," he said.
I frowned slightly. "I don't want eggs."
He paused, then laughed under his breath, turning back toward me with a raised brow.
"No eggs?" he repeated, leaning forward again, elbows on his knees. "Then what do you want?"
"Something moreā¦ tasty."
The smirk that spread across his lips turned slower, darker.
"More tasty, huh?" His fingers brushed lightly over the sheets near me. "I can manage thatā¦ but you'll have to tell meāhow hungry are you?"
"A lot."
Something in his gaze sharpened. He leaned closer, voice dropping.
"Then come here."
I blinked. "WaitāI meant real food."
He laughed, the tension breaking instantly as he ran a hand through his messy hair.
"Right. Real food," he said, shaking his head. "My brain's still in bed with you."
"Perv."
"Guilty," he shot back easily, grinning as he stood.
I crossed my arms slightly. "I want waffles."
He stopped at the door, sighing dramatically before glancing back with a teasing smile.
"Waffles? Now you're just demanding."
"If I am, then don't."
A low chuckle escaped him as he leaned against the frame.
"So demandingā¦ and then not?" he teased. "You're confusing me this morning."
"Just do whatever you want."
His eyes lit up instantly.
"Careful," he said, stepping back toward me, voice dropping again. "You know what happens when you give me that kind of permission."
I rolled my eyes.
He softened, laughing quietly before reaching for my hand.
"Come on," he said. "You're coming with me. I don't trust you not to fall asleep again and blame me."
I let him pull me up but instead of letting me fully steady myself, his grip tightened just slightly. There was a flicker in his eyes, something playfulā¦ and a little dangerous.
Before I could react, his hands slid to my waist.
"Jungkookā"
In one smooth motion, he lifted me.
A quiet gasp left me as my hands instinctively found his shoulders, and my legs wrapped around his waist. He let out a soft, amused breath, steadying me effortlessly, like he'd done it a hundred times before.
"Much better," he murmured, his voice lower now.
Our faces were suddenly closeātoo close to ignore the warmth between us.
He started walking down the hallway like that, completely unbothered, one arm secure around me while the other brushed lightly along my thigh, absent but deliberate.
"Now I know you won't run off," he added with a crooked smile.
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "You're impossible."
"Mm," he hummed, glancing up at me. "And yet, here you are."
Sunlight spilled across the floor as he carried me, his thumb lazily tracing patterns against my side. The whole thing felt unfairly easy for himālike holding me there, close, was the most natural thing in the world.
"Consider this," he added, voice dropping just a little, "premium service. Breakfast delivery included."
I rolled my eyes, but my grip on him tightened slightly.
He noticed.
His smile softenedāless teasing now, more something warmā¦ something that lingered.
And without putting me down, he carried me straight into the kitchen.
He set ms gently against the counter but didnāt move away.
Not really.
His hands lingered at my waist for a second longer than necessary.
Then he finally stepped back, grabbing a bowl.
āWaffle protocol,ā he announced. āMight get a little experimental.ā
I watched as he cracked an eggāslightly messyāthen fished out a bit of shell with a sheepish smirk.
āExtra crunch,ā he said. āVery professional.ā
Flour dusted his fingers, a bit of egg still clinging to his skin. I glanced at his hands, and he noticed immediately.
āThese?ā he asked, lifting them slightly, amused. āMulti-purpose.ā
He slowly brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean, eyes never leaving mine.
āMessy,ā he added quietly.
The air shiftedāwarmer, heavier.
He dipped a finger into the batter again, swirling it lazily.
āFor nowā¦ just pancake mix,ā he murmured.
When i stepped closer, taking his hand and guiding his fingers to your lips, he froze.
A sharp inhale escaped him, his entire body going still as his gaze locked onto you.
āā¦Thatās not part of the recipe,ā he said, voice rough.
I didnāt pull away.
He exhaled slowly, tension flickering through him. āThatāsā¦ one way to clean up.ā
When i finally let go, he flexed his fingers, still watching you like heād forgotten everything else.
He stepped closer, caging you against the counter. His voice was low, roughāstill morning-raw, but stripped of any leftover sleep.
"What do you want?"
I didn't answer right away. Just looked up at him through your lashes, let the silence stretch.
"What do you want?" I returned the question .
His jaw tightened. Something flickered behind his eyesāsomething darker than playfulness. He leaned in, one hand braced on the counter beside my hip, the other coming up to grip my chin. Not hard. Just enough to tilt my face toward his.
"I want you to stop playing with your food."
His thumb dragged across my lower lip, slow and deliberate.
"So I'm your food?" I murmured against his skin.
"If that's how you want to put itā¦" His voice dropped to a murmur, lips brushing the corner of my mouth. "Yeah."
"I don't know. You can show me what you have in mind."
The words left my lips before i could stop them. A dare. A test. She wasn't sure which.
His predatory grin didn't falter. If anything, it sharpenedācurling at the edges like he'd been waiting for me to say exactly that. His eyes held mine, dark and unblinking.
The gentle touch behind my ear slid down. His thumb traced the line of my jaw with excruciating slowness, his skin still damp from the batter, leaving a faint, cool trail along my heated flesh. I shivered. He felt it. His gaze flickered with satisfaction.
"Show you?"
He leaned in, closing the last inch of space between us. His lips brushed against the shell of her earānot quite a kiss, more like a threat wrapped in velvet. His breath was hot, uneven. His voice dropped to a thick, honeyed whisper, dripping with promise.
"I can do much better than that. I can let you taste exactly what I have in mind."
"Mmmm."
The sound was soft. Low. It vibrated against his thumb, still resting on her jaw. A murmur of surrender. Of approval.
That single sound seemed to travel straight through his skin, his muscle, his bones. It landed somewhere deep in his core and lit a fuse he hadn't even known was there.
His breath caught. The wolfish smile turned into something darker. More possessive.
He moved his hand, cupping my chin firmly. His fingers pressed into my skinānot hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to let me know i wasn't going anywhere.
"Good."
He breathed the word out like a promise. His eyes flickered down to my lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long.
"Because you're about to get the whole fucking menu."
With that single, soft sound of approval, something in him snapped. The low burn of the last few minutes flared white-hot. He was done talking.
He let go of my chin, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair, gripping firmly, and he pulled my mouth to his in a sudden, claiming kiss.
It was deep, the kind of kiss that swallowed my air and left you dizzy. His tongue swept against yours, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. His body pressed my back against the counter, the edge biting into my hips, and i couldn't tell if the heat pooling low in my stomach was from him or from the way his fingers flexed against my scalp.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. His forehead dropped to yours, eyes still closed, jaw still tight.
His voice came out wrecked. Low. Almost a growl.
"That's the only sound I want to hear."
My lips curved into a smile. You knew he could feel it.
"I thought you wanted more."
His eyes snapped open. Something feral flickered there, raw and unguarded. His grip in my hair tightened just enough to make your breath catch not painful, justā¦ present. A reminder.
His mouth hovered over mine, lips barely brushing as he spoke.
"Oh, I do."
His other hand slid from the counter to my waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of your my, pulling me flush against him.
"I want everything."
And the way he said itālow, certain, like it was already hisāmade my knees weak and my cheeks burn all at once.
I slid my hand down, first to my nipples through my shirt to show him how hard they were, then down to my heat. The deliberate movement was pure visual provocation. His eyes tracked my hand's slow descent, the hitch in his breathing the only sign he was still alive and not carved from stone. When my palm finally pressed against the heat between my thighs, a ragged, animal sound tore from his throat.
He watched, utterly transfixed, for one more agonizing second before his control shattered. His hand snapped out, grabbing my wrist and pinning it to the counter beside us. He leaned in, his mouth a breath away from mine, his voice a guttural command. "Don't. You don't get to do that. Only I do."
"Really? Then why am I the one touching myself right now?"
The challenge in my words, the sheer defiance of my action, slammed into him. His jaw tightened, the feral heat in his eyes solidifying into something dangerously focused. My wrist was still pinned beneath his, but the implied control I'd just exerted was a spark thrown on dynamite.
He pressed my wrist harder into the cold countertop, his other hand coming up to grip my jaw, forcing me to hold his gaze.
"Because I'm letting you. For about three more seconds. Then your hands stay right here." He released my jaw, trailing his fingertips down my throat, over my collarbone, stopping just above the fabric of my shirt. "I decide what you feel. Where you're touched. And right now..." His fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, grazing the skin of my stomach. "I'm starting here."
He dropped to his knees on the kitchen tile, his mouth finding the soft skin of my stomach first in a series of open-mouthed, searing kisses. He moved upward slowly, worshipfully, his hands holding my hips steady as his lips traced a blazing path over my ribs, then higher, until his warm breath ghosted over the thin fabric covering my breasts.
He didn't look up, his focus entirely on the peaked flesh beneath my shirt. He closed his mouth over it, fabric and all, sucking gently, then harder, his tongue circling the stiff peak through the material. A low groan rumbled from his chest against my skin.
"Told you." He breathed the words against me, his voice muffled. "My decision. My touch."
A sharp intake of breath escaped meāthe only sound in the quiet kitchen, cut through by the wet, hot sound of his mouth working over my shirt. The sensation was almost too much: the fabric rasping against my oversensitive skin, his tongue a firm, persistent pressure, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing the damp cotton. His voice was thick, rough with want.
"That's the sound." He looked up at me, his eyes black with intent. "Now tell me you don't want my hands on you instead."
He didn't wait for a verbal answer. My gasp was permission enough. His hands moved from my hips, sliding up my sides to grip the hem of my shirt. He pulled the fabric up and over my head in one swift motion, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. His dark eyes swept over me, the morning light painting my skin in gold. His voice was a reverent rasp.
"Better."
He drank in the sight of my bare skin, the sharp rise and fall of my chest, with a hunger that was almost painful. The air grew thick, the only sound our mingled, ragged breathing. His hands slid up my waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, his gaze never leaving mine.
"All mine."
He held me there, suspended in his gaze for a long, trembling moment. The morning air was cool against my newly bared skin, but the heat from his hands and his stare was overwhelming. His thumbs made slow, deliberate circles just below the swell of my breasts, a promise of where his mouth would go next.
He leaned forward, his breath hot against my skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above my navel. His voice was a low vibration against me. "Every inch." Another kiss, higher. "Every sigh." His lips brushed the underside of my breast, his tongue darting out to taste my skin. "It all belongs to me now."
Then he slipped his hand into my panties to feel my wetness. His declaration hung in the air between us, a possessive truth he was determined to prove. Keeping one hand splayed possessively on my waist, his other drifted lower, his fingers tracing a line along the top edge of my panties before slipping beneath the fabric.
His fingers slid through the heat and slickness he found there, a dark, satisfied sound rumbling in his chest as he looked up at me. "See?" His voice was thick, his touch deliberate, circling but not yet giving me the pressure I craved. "Even your body knows who it answers to."
"Then give my body what it wants."
My words were a direct orderāan invitation and a challenge wrapped in one. His fingers, still slick with me, paused their circling. A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips against my skin as he looked up at me, his dark eyes gleaming with absolute authority.
He withdrew his hand from my panties, holding my gaze as he brought his glistening fingers to his own mouth, tasting me without breaking eye contact. His voice was a low, commanding purr.
"I will. But on my terms. And only when I'm sure you remember who's giving it to you."
He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate and full of predatory grace. His eyes, dark and hungry, never left mine as he crowded me back against the kitchen counter. He gripped my hips and spun me around, pressing my front against the cool marble countertop. His body caged me from behind, his voice a hot whisper against my ear.
"You ask so pretty. But I'm not done reminding you."
He put a finger in. He didn't hesitate. His finger the same one that had just tasted me slipped inside me with a smooth, deliberate stroke, filling me with a sudden, aching fullness.
His other hand splayed across my lower back, pinning me gently but firmly against the counter as he worked his finger deep, then shallow, his breath hot against the nape of my neck. "There." His voice was a low, possessive growl. "That's what you wanted. But it's not enough, is it?"
"No."
His finger stilled completely inside me, the sudden cessation of movement almost more jarring than the penetration itself. His body went rigid against my back.
He pulled his finger out slowly, deliberately, and turned me around to face him. His eyes were dark pools of stormy intensity, his jaw tight. "No?" His voice was dangerously low, almost a whisper.
I didn't have to speak. He put two fingers inside me. A dark, appreciative sound rumbled in his chest at my silent demand. His hands slid back to my hips, keeping me firmly caged against the counter. His voice was a low, taunting murmur against my skin.
"Greedy." The word was a caress. He didn't tease this time. Two fingers pressed against my entrance, then slid inside me with a slow, deep, deliberate stretch, filling me completely. "Is that better?"
"Mhm."
A low, throaty chuckle vibrated against my back. His two fingers worked inside me, deep and slow, curling just right to make me gasp. His other hand slid around my hip, his palm pressing flat against my lower stomach, holding me firmly in place against the thrust of his fingers.
The two fingers inside me curled deliberately, his thumb finding my clit to apply a slow, circling pressure. Every movement was a claim, a demonstration of the control he'd demanded. His dark eyes watched my face, waiting. His hands moved slowly, caressing me with a tenderness that made me shiver.
The rhythm inside me shifting from slow and deep to something sharper, controlled, punishing pace that demanded my full attention.
He brought his lips to the sensitive skin just below my ear, his teeth grazing lightly as he spoke, his voice rough with approval.
His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling upward. "Now show me."
His thumb began circling my clit with a rough, unyielding pressure, while the two fingers inside me drove deep and fast, his wrist working with a focused, relentless rhythm. He watched my face, his own expression one of intense concentration and dark pleasure, orchestrating every sensation that would bring me to the edge.
His gaze locked on mine, his breathing becoming heavier in time with his movements.
"That's it. Come for me. Give it to me."
His rhythm became punishing in its precision, his thumb a relentless point of pressure and friction, his fingers a deep, driving force inside me. The air grew thick with the sounds of skin, ragged breathing, and the unyielding pace he set. His eyes never left my face, watching for every flicker of reaction as he commanded my release.
His free hand came up to tangle in my hair, gently pulling my head back to expose my throat, his voice a ragged, possessive command against my ear.
"Now. Don't you dare hold back."
His command was followed by the brutal, final escalation of his touch. His thumb worked my clit in fast, ruthless circles, his two fingers pistoning deep inside me with a force that pushed me back against the hard counter with every thrust. The combined assault was overwhelming, designed to break my control entirely and deliver exactly what he'd demanded.
His grip in my hair tightened just enough to anchor me, his lips brushing my ear as he drove me relentlessly toward the edge, his voice a raw, breathless growl.
" Come on. Give it to me. Prove it."
His dark eyes were heavy-lidded with a primal satisfaction, watching my every reaction as he drove me toward the climax he'd commanded.
The relentless rhythm brought me to a orgasm that shook my entire body. As my shudders subsided, his fingers, glistening, pulled slowly from me. He held his hand up between our faces, his gaze dark and triumphant as he watched me.
"You liked my fingers earlier, didn't you? Taste them now."
He brought his wet fingers to my lips, pressing them gently but insistently against my mouth, his eyes holding mine with a primal, commanding intensity.
"Open."
His command hung in the charged air, his gaze unwavering. The taste of salt and my own release already ghosted my senses as he held his fingers pressed to my lips. His eyes darkened further, a vein pulsing in his jaw as he waited, his entire posture rigid with expectation.
I opened my mouth. His index and middle finger slipped past my lips, resting on my tongue. He watched with rapt, possessive attention as my mouth closed around them, his expression one of dark, profound satisfaction. He let out a low, gravelly hum of approval, his other hand still possessively holding my hair.
"Good girl. Swallow."
"Just like that."
His eyes remained fixed on me, watching me swallow. The air was thick with the raw aftermath of what had just happened, the silence broken only by our breathing. He slowly withdrew his fingers from my mouth, his thumb tracing my lower lip in a possessive caress. His gaze was dark and satisfied.
"So, now what should I do with this wet pussy of yours?"
He didn't move away, his body still caging me against the counter. His hand slid down from my hair to grip my hip, his touch branding through the thin material of my clothes. The question hung between them, a raw, provocative promise.
He pressed a kiss to the slope of my shoulder, his voice a low, predatory murmur against her skin.
"Tell me what you want. Or I'll decide for you."
"Mm. You should decide." I answered.
A dark, predatory smile curved his lips at my response. He straightened up, his grip on my hip tightening possessively as his gaze raked over me.
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a low, dangerous purr.
"Good answer.ā
His low, dangerous purr vibrated against my ear. The air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of him and her and the raw promise in his words. His hand on my hip was a brand, his body a cage of heat and muscle.
His free hand came up to grasp my chin, tilting her face to meet his burning gaze.
"Then I'm going to make you scream my name against this counter until you forget you ever had a choice."
A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest at my submission. His grasp on my chin tightened just enough to be felt, his eyes holding mine captive.
He released my chin only to slide both hands down to my thighs, hoisting me up onto the kitchen counter in one smooth, powerful motion.
"Let's see if you can keep that attitude while you're coming apart for me."
He settled me firmly on the cold marble, the contrast to his own heat stark. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing the hem of my shirt higher, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts and underwear, tugging them down my thighs in one rough, decisive motion. The cool kitchen air kissed my newly exposed skin.
He leaned back, his gaze a dark, burning possession as it roamed over me.
"There. That's all I need off. Now put your hands back. Don't make me."
I did what he told me.
His eyes darkened with approval as I complied, his gaze locked on my hands moving back to brace against the cold countertop.
"That's my good girl. Now, keep them there. Let's see how long you can remember who you belong to."
A low, rough sound of approval rumbled in his chest. He leaned in, his warm breath fanning over my neck, one hand sliding around to the small of my back to pull me closer to the edge of the counter.
His other hand slipped between my thighs, his touch deliberate and knowing, his lips grazing my ear.
"Waiting was the only right thing to do. Let's see what else you can do right for me."
The distinct, deliberate sounds filled the silence the rustle of fabric, the soft clink of the quiet slide of his sweatpants. Then, the whisper of his shirt being pulled over his head.
"Much better. Now, where were we?"
He started to tease my entrance with his dick. The teasing pressure of him was maddening, deliberate in its slowness. He held himself there, a hot, heavy promise against my most sensitive skin, not giving me what I craved, just letting me feel the potential.
His breath hitched, a low groan escaping him as he kept that torturous, shallow contact, his hands gripping my hips to hold me steady.
"Look at you. Already begging for it and I haven't even started. Tell me, baby. Who do you belong to?"
"To you, love."
A sharp, approving breath escaped him at my words. His hands tightened on my hips, possessive and sure.
"That's right. And don't you ever forget it."
With my answer given, he ceased his teasing. In one smooth, powerful motion, he thrust forward, claiming me completely, filling the space between us with a deep, shared groan. The sudden, overwhelming sensation of being taken, of being joined, was punctuated only by the solid sound of his palms hitting the counter on either side of my hips, caging me in.
The sharp, breathless sound that escaped me seemed to fuel him further. The initial, claiming thrust settled into a deep, intense connection, his hips flush against mine for a long, weighted moment.
His forehead dropped to rest against my shoulder, a deep groan vibrating against my skin as he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, each roll of his hips measured and possessive.
"Ahh is right, baby. Every sound is mine."
He started slowly but then faster. The deliberate, slow pace was a taunt, a promise of building pressure. But as my body responded, that measured control fractured. His rhythm shifted from deep, claiming strokes to something more urgent, his hips snapping against mine with a new, hungry speed.
His breathing grew ragged, the counter creaking slightly under the force of his movements as he drove into me, each thrust deeper and faster than the last.
"That's it. Take all of it. You're mine."
The only sound was the slap of skin to skin. His balls to my ass. The rhythm intensified, the room filled with the primal, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, each powerful thrust creating a sharp, wet slap that echoed against the tile.
His voice was a rough, broken growl against my ear, his body moving with a frenetic, desperate energy.
"Fuck... that sound. You feel it? That's me claiming what's mine."
His pace became relentless, a frantic, driving rhythm that left us both breathless. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and skin, and the sharp, echoing slaps grew faster, more demanding.
His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, his grunts becoming more strained and guttural with each thrust, the sound raw and unrestrained.
His rhythm became a punishing, unrestrained force, his hips slamming against me with a new, primal intensity.
His hands flew from my hips to tangle in my hair, holding it tight in his fists as he pistoned into me with brutal, perfect force, his voice ragged with ecstasy.
The sharp, stinging crack of his palm against my ass echoed the harsh slap of our bodies, a punctuation to his frantic rhythm.
The slap was followed by another, then another, each one landing on the flushed, sensitive skin, his fingers digging in possessively. His other hand, its intricate ink stark against my throat, slid up to wrap around my neck, not squeezing, but holding, a dominant claim as he drove into me with unrelenting force.
My back arched off the counter, a helpless arch of pure pleasure that I couldn't control.
The slaps stopped, the hand at my throat tightened just enough, and his rhythm became a final, desperate, unstoppable drive.
His breath was still hot and ragged against my skin, his body pressed heavily against my back as he slowly softened inside me. The kitchen was silent now save for our panting breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
He loosened his grip on my throat, his tattooed fingers tracing the skin he'd just claimed.
He pressed a possessive kiss to my shoulder, his lips against my damp skin.
He saw that I was going to come, so he slowed his move.
He deliberately slowed his punishing rhythm to a torturous, shallow grind, denying me the friction I was chasing, his voice a low, teasing command against my ear.
"Oh no, you don't. Not until I say so."
"What?!"
His smirk deepened at my startled reaction, his hips still moving in that deliberate, slow grind that kept me right on the edge.
"You heard me. I decide when you come. Not you." His voice was a low, unwavering command.
His control was absolute, his body a firm, unyielding cage that kept me pinned on the razor's edge he had created.
He maintained the slow, maddening rhythm, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke, his tone dripping with dark amusement.
He nipped at my earlobe, his voice a dark, velvety promise.
"That's right. You asked for this. Now you get the whole fucking package. And my package doesn't come until I'm good and ready to give it to you." He chuckled, the sound low and self-satisfied. "Be a good girl and wait."
He kept up the slow, deliberate grind, savoring every tremor and hitched breath he could feel from my body pressed against his. The morning light filtered through the kitchen window, casting stark shadows and illuminating the flushed skin of my neck and shoulders under his gaze.
He leaned his weight more fully into me, his own breathing beginning to even out as he watched the muscles in my back tense and strain, a low hum of satisfaction in his chest.
"Feels good, doesn't it? This edge. Knowing I'm the only thing holding you back from it." He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of my neck. "My good girl."
In one swift, powerful motion, he withdrew from me and lifted me from the counter, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he turned and carried me to the nearest wall. The tile was cool and unyielding against my back as he pressed me firmly against it, bringing us face to face.
His dark eyes locked onto mine, his arms caging me in, his voice a low growl.
"Better. I want to watch you. Watch you try to hold on."
The shift in position seemed to unleash something primal in him. With me pinned against the wall, legs wrapped tight around his waist, he drove into me with a renewed, brutal pace. Every thrust was hard, deep, and punishingly fast, the force of it rattling my body against the cool tile.
His eyes blazed, locked on my face, his breathing ragged as he chased his own peak, his voice a raw, broken growl.
"Look at me. Look at me when you come. Only when I let you."
I couldn't anymore, so I came. But he didn't.
My climax broke like a wave against a cliff, my body shuddering and convulsing around him in a desperate, involuntary release.
His jaw tightened, a dark, triumphant fire burning in his eyes as he watched me come undone for him. He didn't stop, didn't give me a moment to breathe, his voice a harsh, ragged command against my lips.
"I didn't say you could. But since you did... Now you take it. Every last bit of it. Until I'm done with you."
His words hung in the air, a sharp accusation laced with dark amusement and possessive fire. The brutal, fast pace of his hips continued unabated, making the wall shudder with each impact.
His hands gripped my thighs harder, his forehead pressed against mine as he drove into me, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.
"That's two for you, angel. And I haven't had mine yet. Someone got a little too impatient."
His fingers curled slightly in your hairānot rough, just enough for you to feel the weight of his hand.
"Show me how sorry you are. On your knees."
The words were a low, absolute command that hung in the charged air between us. His grip on my thighs loosened, signaling the expected descent. His dark eyes held mine, unyielding, the promise of what was to come simmering in their depths.
"Now angel"
He watched me slide down the wall, his gaze intense and unwavering. The cool kitchen floor met my knees. He took a half-step back, his form towering over me in the morning light, casting a long shadow that enveloped me completely. His breathing was still ragged from exertion, his expression one of dark, possessive expectation.
He reached out, his fingers gently but firmly tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing my jawline. His voice was a low, velvety command.
"Good. Now, look up at me. Don't you dare look away. And open your mouth."
His command hung in the air, a final, unyielding order. He looked down at me, his expression a mask of dark anticipation and absolute control, waiting for my compliance. His hand remained at my jaw, his thumb stroking my lower lip once, his eyes burning into mine with unwavering intensity.
My mouth obeyed his command, opening for him on the cool kitchen floor. Jungkook's gaze darkened with satisfaction as he looked down at me, his thumb still resting on my lower lip.
He let out a low, appreciative hum, his other hand moving to his waistband. His voice was thick and velvety.
"Good girl. Now, you're going to pay back every last bit of what you owe."
His tone brooked no hesitation, the command leaving the air heavy with expectation. His thumb pressed gently but firmly against my lower lip, a physical reminder of his control as he waited.
He held my gaze, his own dark and unblinking, a silent dare etched into his features. His breathing was steady now, a controlled rhythm compared to the earlier frenzy.
"Go on. Show me how sorry you are."
A low groan rumbled in his chest as I took him in, his head tipping back slightly. His fingers gently tangled in my hair, not forcing, but guiding my rhythm as he watched me with heavy-lidded, possessive eyes.
His voice was a strained, deep hum of approval.
"That's itā¦ just like that. Take it all. You remember who you belong to right now."
The sudden, forceful thrust deeper into my mouth drew another low groan from him. His fingers tightened in my hair, anchoring me in place as he held himself there for a moment, his jaw clenched.
His voice was a rough, strained growl as he looked down at me, his movements becoming more assertive, setting a punishing pace.
"That's it... take it all. Don't forget who you're paying back."
The force of his thrusts sent him deep, hitting the back of my throat with a wet sound. His hips stuttered slightly at the sensation, a sharp hiss escaping his clenched teeth. His grip in my hair tightened, holding me steady against him.
His movements became slower, more deliberate, each deep push a controlled act of possession. His voice was a ragged, breathless whisper.
"Yes... just like that. Right there. You're taking it so well."
The sounds were messy, wet, and obscene. His cock was slick with saliva, every hard thrust coating his length and my mouth.
His breathing became ragged, his hips losing their controlled rhythm. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, his hand fisting tighter in my hair.
"Fuck... that's it. Get it all over you. Show me. Look at me."
His command cut through the wet, sloppy sounds. His dark eyes burned down at me, demanding my gaze meet his even as he moved in my mouth.
His thrusts slowed but did not stop, his grip in my hair keeping me from pulling away. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp, thick with lust.
"Look at me when you take it. I want to see your eyes."
His words hung in the air, a rough, demeaning praise that seemed to tighten the very atmosphere between us. His hips continued their slow, deliberate thrusts, his dark gaze locked on mine, watching for every flicker of reaction.
His thumb brushed along my cheek, smearing a trail of wetness across my mouth. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp, thick with lust.
His movements in my mouth had stilled completely, though he remained buried deep, his hand still fisted possessively in my hair. His dark eyes watched me, glinting with dark amusement and a promise.
He used his grip to tilt my head back just slightly further, his thumb stroking my jawline. His voice was a husky, intimate murmur.
"Stick your tongue out."
He remained hovering over me, his dark gaze expectant and unyielding. The command hung in the air, a direct order that left no room for hesitation.
He kept his grip firm in my hair, his other hand coming up to gently tap the tip of my chin with his thumb. His voice was low and thick with anticipation.
"Let me see it. All of it. Don't make me ask again."
He gave a low, dark chuckle of approval at my obedience, his thumb still resting on my jaw. Slowly, he withdrew from my mouth with a slick, wet sound.
He stood straight, his cock flushed and glistening in front of me. He wrapped his hand around it, his strokes slow and deliberate at first, his other hand still loosely tangled in my hair.
"Good. Now watch. Watch what you did to me and swallow."
The single word was a command, low and thick with intent. His hand was still moving, his strokes becoming faster, more urgent. The air grew thick with the scent of him and the charged anticipation of his release.
His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, remained locked on my face. His breathing hitched, his muscles tensing.
"Every drop. You'll take it all."
After his release he took a moment. His breathing was still ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His hand slowly loosened in your hair, fingers smoothing through the tangled strands instead of gripping.
For a long moment, he just stood there, watching you.
Then he dropped to his knees in front of you.
The kitchen floor was cold against his skin, but he didn't seem to notice. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing gently across your cheekbones, wiping away the mess he'd made.
"Hey," he murmured, voice soft now ā stripped of command, stripped of darkness. Just him. "You okay?"
You nodded, still catching my breath.
His forehead dropped to mine. He stayed like that for a second, just breathing with you.
"You did so good," he whispered. "So good for me."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. Then the tip of my nose. Then my lips ā soft this time, barely there, nothing like before.
"Come here."
He pulled me gently against his chest, one arm wrapping around my back, the other cradling the back of my head.
He didn't rush. Didn't try to get me up or clean me off or say too much. He just held me, his thumb tracing slow circles against my back, until mu breathing evened out and the trembling stopped.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were soft. Tender. Nothing like the storm from before.
"Let's get you off this floor, yeah?"
He stood first, then reached down, taking both your hands and pulling me up slowly, carefully. My legs were still unsteady, and he noticed immediately ā one arm sliding around my waist to keep you upright.
"Easy. I've got you."
He led me to the counter, grabbing a kitchen towel and running it under warm water. When he came back, he knelt again ā not to command, but to care.
His touch was gentle as he wiped my face. Each movement slow, deliberate, tender.
"There," he murmured, tossing the towel aside. "Better?"
I nodded.
He stood, pulling you into his chest again, one hand cradling the back of my head.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For the rough part. Got a littleā¦ lost in it."
I shook my head against his chest. "I liked it."
He let out a soft laugh, his chest vibrating against your cheek. "Yeah. I know you did."
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
"Still. You tell me if it's too much. Always."
I pulled back just enough to look up at him. "I will."
His thumb traced your jaw one more time ā soft, almost reverent.
"Good girl."
He said it differently this time. Not like a command. Like a promise.
"Now," he said, glancing at the forgotten waffle batter on the counter, "I think I owe you breakfast. Real breakfast this time."
I laughed softly. "You think?"
He grinned that warm, crooked grin from the very beginning of the morning.
"I know."
He grabbed a blanket from the living room and wrapped it around my shoulders before guiding me to a chair at the small kitchen table.
"Sit. Don't move. I'm making you waffles. And coffee. And whatever else you want."
I watched him move around the kitchen naked except for his boxers which he had put on, hair still messy, skin still flushed. He cracked new eggs into a bowl, this time without missing.
pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre. streamer!jungkook. smut. friends with benefits. friends to lovers. slice of life. roommates au.
you keep falling into the same frustrating pattern with jungkook ā every intimate moment, and he goes right back to acting normal. itās driving you insane, so you decide thereās no better way to break him than while heās live on stream.
word count. 8.6k words warnings. oc horny as fuck .. whats new. jennie talking oc to her damn senses. jungkook tryna be nonchalant. oc loves talking back. smut. sending nudes. brat taming. use of toy. EDGING AND DENIAL !! fingering. male masturbation. BIG DICK JK. he nuts on her boobs. oral (fem!receiving). bold words are in korean. this is just pure smut.
anaās notes. girl this one wiped me the fuck out so i hope this is a good enough comeback -_- welcome :3 this is the first ever part 2 ive written for a fic !! oh nsc couple you are so dear to me. i have so much more in store for these two, so i only hope you love them as much as i do. beta read + dedicated to my fave girls @sjynist & @lovieku for showing all the love to nsc, i couldnt have done this without you ā”
01 ā” NEXT ā” SERIES MASTERPOST
Jungkook was oblivious sometimes.
Sometimes.
Most of the time, he knew the effect he had on people. He was attractive and fully aware of it ā used to the stares, the flirting, getting approached constantly.
But what he never seemed to grasp was how deep it really was.
And that was exactly what was happening now.
After that night, he acted like everything was perfectly normal. Still called you bro even after heād been face deep in your pussy. Still teased and joked around with you like the two of you hadnāt crossed a line you could never uncross.
Not a single mention of it. Not even a slight hint.
However, the worst part wasnāt the lack of acknowledgement. It was that he hadnāt kissed you or touched you since. Not once. Not even accidentally.
And it was killing you.
Now, being in the same room with him was becoming unbearable again ā not from your guilt this time, not from tension, but from the temptation and restraint it took to not pounce on him the second he walked in.
And he didnāt make it easy.
Heās in a matching tracksuit today, unzipped just enough to show the black tank top underneath. A silver chain sits against his chest, glinting with every step he takes. His hair is parted down the middle, soft layers curling at the ends, framing his stupidly handsome face.
āHey, whatchu cooking?ā he asks as he strolls into the kitchen, voice lazy, warm.
You inhale slowly, trying to steady the tiny quiver threatening to peek through your voice. It was getting bad. Jungkook had never made you nervous before, not like this. Not to the point where you had to physically contain yourself.
āNothing fancyā¦ā you mumble, snapping your gaze back down the pot the second you realize you were openly checking him out. āYou going somewhere?ā
āNo,ā he chuckles, leaning a hip against the counter. āWhy?ā
āWhyā he asks, like heās not sex on legs right now. Like he doesnāt look good. Itās not even about the outfit anymore ā itās quite the casual outfit. But he makes it look way more outgoing than it actually is.Ā
But you wouldnāt tell him how good he looks.
Heās your best friend, not your boyfriend. Yeah, he licked and dragged his nose against your pussy just days ago, but he still wasnāt your boyfriend! Getting head from your best friend was fine, but you drew the line at compliments.
āJust asking,ā you mutter, stirring the pot shakily, the spoon clanging against the sides. āHow was your day?ā
āRelaxing,ā he says, tone going soft. āTook the day off, didnāt realize how tense I usually am when Iām streaming.ā
āWell, youāre usually being watched by thousands of people,ā you remind him. āThatās not a normal job. Maybe itās time to start giving yourself more breaks.ā
The corner of his mouth lifts in that cocky little smirk. He shakes his head slowly. āCanāt afford that. Iām in the top five streamers in the world right now, baby. Might get that collab with Kai Cenat soon.ā
āLook at you,ā you sing, smiling at him, dragging the words out just enough to tease.
He gets flustered at that, confidence cracking for a second as his cheeks tint pink, nose scrunching.Ā
āStop it, stop it,ā he mutters, half-laughing, glancing off to the side like he suddenly doesnāt know where to look. Cute. āNeed help with anything?ā
Thereās a couple things you could think of. He could help relieve the absolutely disgusting ache between your thighs, the one thatās been building up since after that night. Maybe he could use his nose again.
Or try something different ā maybe he could sink his long tattooed fingers inside of you, curl them against that sweet spot that actually makes you moan out loud. Rub his cock against your folds, tease your entrance a little. Or even just sit there willingly for you to get off just by looking at him, though that wouldnāt satisfy the burning need to feel his mouth on you again, or better yet, his dick splitting you open and pounding into you relentlessly.
But instead of asking him to fuck your brains outā¦
You just have him help around in the kitchen. Like a normal goddamn person and not some horny desperate bitch whose every thought circles back to his tongue on her pussy.
āStill humble enough to help your best friend cook?ā you tilt your head, teasing lilt in your tone.
āAlways,ā he clicks his tongue, already reaching for the chopping board and knife. āYou know I'd never switch up on my day ones.ā
You let out a small chuckle as he settles beside you. The atmosphere softens, dipping into something almost domestic ā quiet music humming in the background, the low simmer of the stove, cooking food to eat dinner together.
āAnd you?ā he adds, starting on the vegetables. āHow did today treat you?ā
āToday wasā¦ it was okay,ā you say quietly.Ā
āThatās it?ā he laughs under his breath. āOkay?ā
āI donāt know what to say,ā you chuckle, but it comes out a little thinner than you mean it to. You suddenly become aware of how close heās standing ā the subtle heat of him, the way his arms move beside you. You lift your brows at him, trying to play it off. āIām in the presence of a celebrity.ā
āOh please,ā he scoffs. He glances at you again, the smile still lingering on his lips, but thereās a slight crease coming between his brows now ā observant. āYou okay?ā
āYeah,ā you nod quickly, like if you say it fast enough, itāll sound convincing. Like itāll end the conversation before he can look too closely.
Youāre okay.
In the normal sense, at least. Mentally, emotionally ā youāre fine. Functioning and stable.
Physically is an entirely other story.
He needs to step away from you immediately. Because if he stays this close for even a second longer, youāre not entirely sure you wonāt do something reckless.
He doesnāt say anything more. Doesnāt bring up that night when heād knelt between your legs in the dim light of your bedroom, his breath hot against your core. Doesnāt ask you whatās wrong or why youāre acting so weird.
Itās happening again ā this maddening cycle you seem to find yourself in when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. Just like after he hopped into the shower with you, dick pressed up against your back, staring at your breasts, only for him to act so casual the rest of the week.
Youāre losing your mind.
Every inhale draws in his scent ā clean shampoo mixed with the faint musk of his cologne ā making your pussy ache for friction. You press your legs together subtly, but it only worsens the need, your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate for him to just touch you.
And Jungkook standing beside you, chopping onions effortlessly, shouldnāt have you this wet. You can practically feel your arousal dripping out of you.
The silence between you is loud. So loud you can hear it even over the audible bubbling of the sauce in the pot. Over the occasional tap of the knife hitting the cutting board from Jungkook. Over Ariana Grandeās sultry voice from the TV speakers youād put on before cooking, her lyrics about wanting to get āNastyā tonight making you hope Jungkookāll somehow get the hint.
But he doesnāt seem bothered. Not one bit.Ā
God, you were getting really tired of this nonchalant bullshit.
Itās now been a week.
An entire week since that night. Seven whole days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday.
And Jungkook still hasnāt acknowledged you. Not in the way you wanted him to, at least.
Not a suggestive touch. Not a flirty comment. He still hasnāt brought that day up.
Nothing.
So you decided youād make him acknowledge you.
Despite the chilly weather creeping through the apartment, you started wearing shorts around the house every chance you got. Not just shorts ā short shorts. The ones you rolled up at your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from the bottom whenever you bent over.
If he was looking, you didnāt catch it.
Heād glance at you the same way he always did ā eyes big and glossy, infuriatingly composed. Just the same neutral expression he wore every other day.
Heād check in about the most ordinary things ā what you were watching, what you were cooking, where you were headed ā his tone casual, almost absentminded. Sometimes heād walk right past you without saying anything at all ā like you were just another piece of furniture in the apartment.
Meanwhile, your entire body reacted to every small thing. The sound of his footsteps. The faint scent of his clothes. His presence overall.
Then heād disappear into his room like he hadn't once had his head between your thighs.
You started taking long showers again.
Longer than usual.
The mirror was fogged up beyond recognition, your reflection reduced to nothing but a blurred silhouette. Steam would slip out slowly from beneath the bathroom door, like you were boiling yourself alive in there. The water ran far past what was reasonable. Past responsible. You couldnāt even bring yourself to give a shit about the inevitably hefty water bill.
You were starting to give up.
You didnāt know how much longer you could be around Jungkook before you did something humiliating ā like corner him, grab him by that stupid chain around his neck, and start begging him to fuck you.
It was getting pathetic, truly.
You couldnāt sleep. Couldnāt focus. Every little sound he made had your stomach flipping. His laugh through the wall. The low murmur of his voice talking to his chat while on stream.
So you left.
Just like last time.
āHello?ā Jennie greets, blinking in confusion when she opens the door to find you standing on her porch, unannounced and visibly spiraling.
āJen, I canāt do it,ā you whine immediately, brushing past her and walking straight into her apartment like you live there. āWeāre going over there tomorrow to start moving my stuff into here.ā
She shuts the door slowly, eyebrows lifting. āWhat happened?ā
She follows you back toward the living room, where her freshly washed laundry is spread everywhere ā some folded, others waiting to be folded. You donāt even acknowledge that youāve interrupted her routine, simply curling up on the couch like you belong there.
You hadn't told Jennie about that night with Jungkook. Not about what happened. Not even about the shower.
When you escaped to her place after the shower incident with Jungkook, she didnāt question it. You practically lived here half the time anyway. It wasnāt unusual.
But this time, she knew it wasnāt just to come over to chat, sip on wine, and laugh.
She lowers herself on the carpet in front of the couch, mirroring your crossed legs as she looks up at you, offering you her undivided attention. āTalk.ā
āI think I have a crush on Jungkook.ā
Jennie freezes completely, eyes widening as she blinks at you like the words didnāt quite register the first time. Her gaze locks onto your face, searching it carefully, as if sheās waiting for you to crack a smile and admit youāre joking.
You donāt.Ā
Her mouth parts slightly, but nothing comes out. She just stares.
The longer the silence stretches, the more your confidence starts to crumble. Your shoulders shift awkwardly, fingers fidgeting in your lap as you avoid her eyes for a moment.
Jennieās still staring.
And itās starting to make you nervous.
āLikeā¦ our Jungkook?ā she asks slowly. āThe one you live with, Jungkook?ā
āYes, Jen, that Jungkook,ā you snap, panic making your tone more aggressive than you mean it to be. āWho the hell else would I be talking about?ā
āI donāt know!ā she shouts, shrugging helplessly as she shakes her head. āSurely thereās another one out there!ā
She resumes folding the clothes sheād abandoned the moment you barged into her apartment in a frenzy, the motions quick and slightly frantic ā each piece snapped into neat folds before being tossed into a growing pile beside her.
āA- are you sure you do, though?ā she asks quickly, folding so fast that whatās supposed to be a relaxing routine looks more like a workout. āI mean, Iāve always seen him as a brother. I assumed you did too.ā
āOh my god, ew,ā you groan, the sound muffled as you drag your hands down your face. āPlease donāt say that. Don't ever say that again.ā
āIām serious!ā she insists, the folding coming to a halt. āMaybe youāre just lonely. Or maybe itās been a while and youāre confusing proximity with feelings!ā
āTrust me, my brain is not confused,ā you mutter.
She tilts her head. āWhy donāt you just hit up Eunwoo again?ā
āFuck no,ā you scoff. āHe was hot, yes. But he was soā¦ boring. Every time I slept with him, I had to fake it and get the job done myself.ā
Jennie gasps dramatically. āNo way.ā
Her mouth hangs open before a grin threatens to pull at her lips. She tries to fight it. She really does. But the concept of the Cha Eunwoo being boring in bed makes her burst out laughing anyway.
āJennie!ā you shriek. āFocus!ā
āOkay! Okay!ā she says quickly, holding up her hands as the laughter dies down, though a stubborn smile still lingers at the corner of her lips. She inhales, trying to compose herself, eyes flicking back to you with renewed curiosity. āWell, when did this start?ā
You go quiet.
How do you tell your best friend that youāve been intimate with your other best friend ā the one sheās known just as long ā without detonating the group dynamic?
She says your name.
Not softly. Not gently. Warningly.
āOkay,ā you inhale. āWe took a literal shower together and then he noticed I started acting weird after that and I told him I couldnāt stop thinking about him in a way I shouldnāt and then he went down on me and I havenāt stopped thinking about it since and we havenāt talked about that night at all and itās driving me crazy and I am so close to fucking that man itās ridiculous!ā
Silence.
On her end, at least.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly, breath coming out in short pants like youāve just sprinted a mile. Everything else suddenly feels too loud in the aftermath of your rambling ā the low hum of the heater pushing warm air out of the vents, the slight crackling of the candles lit around her home.
Jennie, however, is completely silent.
She sits there frozen, sweatpants half-folded in her lap, eyes wide and fixed on you, obviously still processing what you just said.
āWell?ā you demand, because you cannot sit in this silence any longer. āSay something!ā
āIām sorry,ā she says carefully, lifting both hands to her temples and rubbing circular motions like sheās massaging her brain. āIām just trying to process the fact that my friend ate my other friend's pussy.ā
āJennie!ā you shriek again, horrified.
āOkay! Lookā¦ you want my honest answer?ā she asks, straightening her posture like sheās about to give you a lecture.
You squint at her suspiciously. āI donāt knowā¦ do I?ā
She doesnāt wait for your approval.
āI think youāre being dramatic, babes.ā
You scoff softly, offended. āExcuse me?ā
āI do,ā she repeats, shrugging. āYouāre spiraling instead of just talking to him. I meanā¦ maybe you just need to bring it up to him. That wouldnāt be so bad, would it?ā
You chew on your bottom lip, doubt creeping in again. āI donāt knowā¦ā
āI mean, itās clear he wants to fuck you too,ā she adds bluntly.
āUgh,ā you moan at the mere thought of it, dropping your face straight into your palms when the image alone makes you unreasonably horny.
āBehave,ā Jennie warns, teasingly.
āBut what if youāre wrong?ā you ask, doubt rushing in instantly. āWhat if heās not bringing it up because he regrets it?ā
āOh my god,ā Jennie groans, throwing her head back. āYouāre impossible, you know that?ā
āItās not insane to think that, Jen!ā you argue, slapping your hands against the counter. āPeople regret things all the time!ā
She says your name sternly.
āMen who eat donāt regret that shit.ā
Your lips pucker up to the side, completely unashamed.
āHe did eat it pretty good,ā you admit.
āAlright.ā Jennie physically recoils, face twisting as she returns to the pile of laundry. āI really, really do not want to hear what Jungkook is like in bed.ā
āOh, because I wanna know about Taehyung?ā you retort back immediately.
āHey! You havenāt known Taehyung for over five years, have you?ā she shoots back, grabbing a balled-up pair of socks and tossing it at you. āAll Iām saying is, if Jungkook regretted it, he wouldāve avoided you. He hasnāt, has he?ā
āI meanā¦ no,ā you admit, grabbing the socks from your lap and absentmindedly fiddling with them. āBut we live together. Thereās not much avoiding he could do even if he tried.ā
Jennie tilts her head slowly, narrowing her eyes at you. āYou did.ā
You blink. āThatās- thatās different! I came here. He streams like six hours a day, he can barely leave the apartment.ā
āExactly,ā Jennie counters calmly. āHe streams like a maniac and still finds a way to talk to you.ā
You open your mouth, ready to argue again, but the words stall.
You think about it.
About that night he helped you cook dinner. The casual way heād ask where you were going whenever he heard your keys jangling, or how heād check in on you in general.
You swallow.
āOkay, wellā¦ how do I even bring this up?ā you ask, a little helpless. āI donāt know if you noticed, but Iām not good at this.ā you say, as if it wasnāt the most obvious thing in the world.
The smirk spreading across her face immediately makes you nervous.
āI might have an ideaā¦ā she says slowly.
You hesitate, already regretting asking. āThat isā¦ā
āDepends,ā she says, tilting her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. āHow bad do you wanna piss him off tonight?ā
Jennie was a nasty little shit.
But she was, annoyingly, way better at this than youād ever be. When it came to guys, she just got it. After all, she had plotted on Taehyung for an entire year before he finally asked her out.Ā
So, reluctantly, you listened.
Her idea of getting Jungkook's attention was raunchy ā send him nudes, your bare body laid out like an offering on his phone screen while he was on stream. You thought it was insane, your stomach twisting with a mix of terror and thrill as you fumbled with your keys at the apartment door.
This was an idea that could either fix everything or ruin your life in under five seconds. But quite frankly, it seems a little less nerve-wracking than actually having a conversation about how you want to fuck your best friend, who is also your roommate.Ā
Itās nearing eight when you get back home, Jungkook usually ends streaming at nine. The apartment is dark, blinds already down, and on the kitchen counter, a candle flickers softly ā he always leaves it on for you when you get home late.
You quietly head into your room, the door easing shut with a soft click that barely muffles Jungkookās voice filtering through the thin walls ā raspy and low from hours of streaming making your thighs clench involuntarily. Heās bantering with his chat, chuckling at some dumb comment, and just the sound of it hits you like foreplay, already getting you wet.
Itās clearly been a while since anythingās touched you right.
Back at Jennieās place, you asked her to show you her own pictures as examples. Whatever, you had showered her that one time she was plastered ā it wasnāt anything you hadnāt seen before.
Itās not like you hadnāt taken a nude before. In high school, youād snap quick ones for that one boyfriend who begged. But you stopped doing that in college ā potentially getting leaked being your worst fear at the time. You were just inexperienced as this wasnāt something you normally did now, all your boyfriends after high school and random hookups, you just invited them over and got the deed done.
So when youāre clad in a matching set you had bought for nobody but yourself, you stretch out on the bed, cool sheets kissing your bare thighs as you prop your arm high. You think of the advice Jennie gave ā what angles were the best, to spread your legs a little, arch your back.
You take a few ā one of your ass in the lacy black thong, twisting just enough to get it in the frame, one of your body stretched out across the bed, legs slightly parted, and one without the bra.
You stare at them. Delete one. Retake another.
When youāre satisfied, you toss your phone beside you across the duvet and reach for your bra, pulling it back on like you arenāt about to send Jungkook a picture of your bare boobs anyway. Your pulse is a little too fast as you lean over, grabbing your laptop from your bedside and flipping it open.
The screen lights up your face as you click into the browser, fingers moving quicker, and pull up Twitch. The layout loads before you type in his username.
mnijungkook
You click on the stream marked LIVE, and there he is, blessing your vision.
His hair is a tousled mess, dark strands falling over his forehead while the shorter pieces curl up at the ends. Heās slouched in his gaming chair, the white sweater baggy and oversized, zipped only halfway up his chest to reveal a tantalizing sliver of his creamy skin. That silver cross necklace dangles heavy against his collarbone, clear glasses perched on his nose ā both from Chrome Hearts, a heavy purchase he let himself indulge in, and a reminder of the ridiculous amount of money he makes from streaming alone.
Itās clear heās not wearing a shirt underneath, and you canāt help it when a jealous twinge knots in your stomach, sharp and possessive. Thousands of thirsty girls are tuned in right now, flooding the comments with crude comments and desperate pleas for him to notice them.
Heās taking a break from gaming, just chilling, fingers gently brushing his own lips, that silver ring on his thumb glaring.
Itās the perfect opportunity. And you know just how to steal his attention from his pathetic chat.
You reach for your phone, unlocking it quickly. Messages. His contact. The thread opens, painfully casual ā just stupid fucking TikTokās and you telling him where you were leaving for the day. You click the photos option, scrolling briefly before landing on one of the many raunchy photos youād just taken.
With trembling fingers, you select one.Ā
Your finger hovers over the send button, hesitating just for a second. Your chest tightens as you glance back up at the screen, at him ā smirking and chuckling, probably at some stupid comment he read. Cocky fuck.
Yet, you need that really bad.
You inhale deeply, then press it.
The message sends instantly. The word Delivered shows up underneath the photo, and a second later, the faint ding of his phone echoes through the walls.
Only then do you exhale.
It takes a moment for the stream to catch up, a slight delay that makes the anticipation worsen. But then heās picking up his phone from the desk, unlocking it absentmindedly as if itās nothing.
Delivered switches to Read.
You watch closely. His eyes widen ā just slightly. He shifts in his chair, clearing his throat, trying to keep his composure like thousands of people arenāt watching him, like his chat isnāt ready to read into every tiny reaction.
Then he realizes the reflection in his glasses.
His hand comes up almost immediately, pushing them up into his hair as his eyes skim the comments flooding in. He scans the chat with clear paranoia now, reading too fast, like heās trying to catch if anyone noticed anything they shouldnāt have. He gulps, throat bobbing, tension settling in his shoulders before his focus drops back down to your message.
You drop your gaze back to your phone.
And almost immediately, three little bubbles appear.
āAlright, chat,ā you hear Jungkook announce, pulling the glasses out of his hair and setting them down on the desk. āSomething came up. Iāll see you guys tomorrow. Maybe. I love you all, night.ā
Itās abrupt. Just a quick sign-off like heās trying to get out of there as fast as possible without making it obvious.
The stream ends.
A rush of excitement hits you instantly. You shut your laptop and push it aside, your heart racing now that you wonāt have to watch him through a screen anymore.
Seconds later, heās busting through your door without knocking ā like he usually would.
āHey,ā he calls in Korean, the word rough and edged with frustration as he trudges into your room, stopping at the edge of your bed. He doesnāt sit down ā instead, he towers over you, face leaning closer to yours, his gentle scent wafting into your space. āWhatāre you doing?ā
His brows are knitted tight, and his ears flush a deep red that creeps down his neck. Your gaze drops instinctively ā his sweater hangs as heās bent slightly, and you canāt help but look inside, where he is, in fact, not wearing a shirt underneath. Then your eyes trail lower as they lock onto the unmistakable bulge straining against his gray sweats.
āDunno what you mean,ā you shrug, forcing a pout onto your lips, playing dumb and feigning innocence. āJust wanted to show you this set I got.ā
āBull. Fucking. Shit,ā he spits, leaning even closer until his face hovers mere inches from yours, the necklace dangling from his neck and swinging forward, the cool metal nearly brushing your chest. āYou canāt do that while Iām streaming. Thousands of people, and you send me that?ā
āWhat?ā you chuckle, light and breathy. āWould you rather I walked in and asked you?āĀ
āAre you being serious right now?ā he scoffs in disbelief.
You look up at him, fighting back a smile that threatens to creep up on your lips, your body aching with need ā not just from how devastatingly attractive he looks, but from the frustration in his eyes when heās mad. You can practically feel your arousal gushing out of you, and you press your thighs together for a moment of friction.
āI told you to wait until after, didnāt I?ā he presses, tone low and warning. āThere are a lot of people watching me, I donāt think you realize how closely they notice things.ā
āAnd yet, they didnāt see anything,ā you counter, tilting your head with a teasing arch of your brows, voice dripping with mock innocence. āWhat are you all worked up for?āĀ
He doesnāt say anything, just shuts his eyes and turns his head, a low exhale escaping through his nose, chest rising and falling as he seeks composure.
Your lips hover near his ear, breath warm and ragged as you whisper, āWhatāre you gonna do, Jungkook? Did you end the stream for nothing?ā
He turns back to you, gaze silently shifting down your body instead of talking back, before snapping back to your eyes. It flickers lower, to your lips.
Without warning, he crashes into you, mouth claiming yours in a kiss thatās everything but gentle ā lips attacking yours with animalistic force. He growls low in his throat, the vibration rumbling against your mouth as his tongue thrusts past your teeth.
He shifts, climbing onto the bed. He gets on top of you in one fluid motion, body pinning yours to the mattress, hips settling between your thighs. You can feel his stiff cock press right up against your core, the hard length grinding against the soaked lace of your thong.Ā
Jungkook pulls back from your mouth with a wet smack, lips glistening with mixed salivas, eyes dark and low as he looks toward the nightstand drawer beside your bed. He yanks it open with a rough tug, rummaging inside for a second before pulling out your pink vibrator.Ā
āHow did youā¦ā you start, voice cracking, trailing off into nothing as embarrassment consumes you.Ā
āThink I canāt hear this shit?ā he rasps, that signature smirk curling at his lips. āAlways thought about what you look like when you use it. Can I see?ā
You nod slowly, almost in a daze, teeth sinking deep into your bottom lip. Jungkook hooks a finger into the thin string of your thong, brushing the sensitive skin of your hips as he drags the lace down inch by inch. The fabric peels away, clinging to your wet folds before he tugs it free, leaving it dangling halfway down one leg.
He settles lower as he stares down at your pussy, lips parted in hunger. Slick coats your lips, dripping out of your entrance. A low groan rumbles from his chest, and he brings a hand down, palm pushing your thigh wider before he dips a finger between your folds.Ā
āMissed you,ā he mutters quietly, the words not aimed at you but at your pussy, like heās greeting an old lover.
So fucking stupid. But it sends a fresh gush of arousal flooding out of you anyway, your walls clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.Ā
Jungkookās thumb flicks the power button on the base of the pink vibrator, and an insistent buzz vibrates through his palm. The sound fills the room, mixing with your ragged breaths as he lowers the toy, pressing it directly against your clit. A sharp moan spills from your lips at the contact, your body arching off the bed as the buzzing pulses straight into your core, sending sparks of pleasure to your cunt.
His gaze snaps up from where heās focused, locking onto your face ā your mouth parted open in a silent gasp turning vocal, brows furrowed and eyes shut in ecstasy. Jungkook drinks in your expression, cock twitching in his pants, and a whine slips from his throat.
He leans in without a word, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His free hand slides up your neck, fingers curling around your throat ā not squeezing, just holding you there, feeling your pulse against his palm. All the while, he angles the vibrator firmer against your clit, pushing the buzzing head into you, increasing your pleasure as the vibrations drill deeper.
He breaks the kiss just enough for his breath to fan against your lips. āKnew you were desperate for something,ā his mouth trails lower, lips brushing lightly over your jawline, nipping at the sensitive spot below your ear. āWas waiting for you to do something bold.ā
Turns out, Jungkook wasnāt as oblivious as you thought.
He just loved tormenting you.
He noticed the shift in your demeanor after that night ā of course he did. The way you couldnāt maintain eye contact the next day, the way you kept conversation short, how you went stiff and tense whenever he entered the same room as you. You got all weird again, just like you did after the shower.
And if he hadnāt known any better like last time, he probably wouldāve asked you what was wrong. But he didnāt. Because now, he did know.Ā
This time, he wanted to see how long it took before you broke, before you finally begged him to fuck you the way you wanted. The way he wanted.
What he didnāt know was that you knew how to play this game better (Jennie, technically ā but he didnāt need to know that).
You meet his eyes with a smug, lazy smile spreading across your swollen lips. āGot what you wanted?ā you ask, tone laced with challenge, your hand reaching up to thread fingers through his messy hair, tugging lightly.
āMaybe,ā he admits, a low chuckle slipping from his lips. His hand trails down from your throat, fingers skimming over the black lace before dipping into the cup of your bra. He squeezes your breast fully, palm engulfing the soft, heavy flush. āDidnāt know you could be such a brat when you want something, though.ā
Youāre embarrassingly close, the tight knot in your lower belly twisting, ready to snap and flood your body with release. If he wasnāt laying between your thighs, his strong hold prying your legs wide open to expose your dripping cunt, youād be closing them in on the toy.Ā
āFeel good?ā he rasps, dark eyes consuming your pleasure. āI know it does. You love this thing, donāt you? Can hear you use it every fucking night.ā
āKook, Iām- g- gonnaā¦ā you moan out, the words fracturing into a whimper as the pressure builds. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his sweater, clutching a fistful over his broad shoulder.
Big mistake.
Because just then, Jungkook yanks the toy away from your clit, the sudden absence ripping the vibrations from your cunt. He flicks the switch off with his thumb, the loud buzzing dying to silence, broken only by your ragged pants.
You look up at him, completely puzzled. āYou cannot be seriousā¦ā you breathe, voice hoarse with disbelief.Ā
āMmm,ā he muses. āWhy should I let you cum?ā
āI canāt fucking stand you,ā you scoff, the words laced with amusement even as frustration bubbles up in your chest.Ā
āYeah, I donāt really like brats either,ā he shoots back, lips curling into a smirk. He pushes up onto his knees between your legs, spreading his own, the muscles in his quads flexing against his sweatpants. Gripping the undersides of your thighs, he yanks you forward, draping them over his lap. The shift hoists your hips off the bed, leaving your pussy bared beneath him, folds slick and swollen. āMaybe I shouldnāt give you what you want at all, hm? Leave you here to fend for yourself?ā
āCareful,ā you still tease, pissing him off further, fully aware he could drag out the edging all over again. āYou almost sound like your egoās bruised.ā
āKeep talking like that, and youāll get nothing,ā he threatens, though heās not intimidating at all. Deep down, youāre positive he wasnāt leaving this room until his cock gets some attention. Not this time.
He flicks the switch on again, the low buzz of the vibrator filling the room with that familiar, torturous hum. Slowly, teasingly, he drags the toy between your legs, the vibrating tip ghosting over your inner thigh first. Then, with the barest pressure, he presses it against your clit for a split second before he yanks it away again. A desperate whimper escapes your lips, hips bucking instinctively, as if thatāll help.
āBeg,ā he demands, voice rough and commanding, repeating the torment. Another light tap against your clit before itās gone again.
āJungkook,ā you pant, shutting your eyes as your face starts to burn, a mix of anger and desperation surging through you. You have half a mind to bring your foot up and shove him off the bed.
āJungkook,ā he mocks dramatically, chuckling as he holds the toy behind his back, teasing you as if your cunt wasnāt brutally throbbing right now. āThatās not begging, baby.ā
He brings the toy down again for just a millisecond. And finally, a deep groan tears from your chest, raw and desperate. āOkay! Please! Please justā¦ just touch me, I canātā¦ā
Satisfied, a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as he finally presses the toy firmly against your pussy. The vibrations pulse straight into your core, intense and relieving, buzzing against the swollen bud thatās been throbbing for his attention. You throw your head back against the pillow, an almost pornographic moan ripping from your throat.
āTake your top off,ā he murmurs, face flushed and mouth gaped open. He grips the vibrator steady, circling it slowly now.
You waste no time, fumbling with shaky hands to reach behind your back. Your fingers pinch the hooks of the bra, unhooking it with a snap, the lacy fabric loosening instantly. You peel the straps down your arms before flinging it across the room.
Now youāre completely naked, skin prickling in the cool air while he remains fully clothed.
His eyes roam you like youāre a masterpiece. From your swollen lips to your collarbones, lingering on the swell of your tits, then lower to where the toy assaults your cunt. His brows knit together, a pained grimace twisting his features as his cock strains painfully against the confines of his pants. He shifts uncomfortably, biting his lower lip, but he focuses on you.
Emboldened by the way his gaze drinks in your nudity, you snatch his free hand from your thigh ā the one with intricate tattoos that youāve been dying to be touched with. You bring it up to your lips, entering his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, skin warm and soft against your tongue. Itās filthy and tempting, an example of what your mouth could do to his cock if heād just let you.
He watches, mesmerized, jaw slacked like a fucking idiot. You pull them out, slick and shiny, guiding his hand downward without breaking eye contact, trailing it between your breasts, across your stomach until they hover at your entrance.
Begging paid off with Jungkook ā you feel it when he doesnāt hesitate, thrusting those two fingers deep into your sopping cunt in one smooth motion. Your pussy swallows them effortlessly, so wet and ready that they slide in all the way to his knuckles.
āFuck,ā Jungkook groans in Korean, the word dragging out in a deep, throaty moan.
You gasp sharply at the sweet stretch of his fingers filling your pussy after torturous teasing, back arching as you clutch the cool metal of his necklace, yanking him down hard against you. He collides with your body, mouths fusing in a frantic kiss. His fingers remain plunging deep inside your slick pussy, curling with every stroke.
āFaster,ā you whisper against his swollen lips.
He complies instantly, his fingers slamming in and out of your dripping cunt at a brutal pace, your arousal coating his hand and trickling down his wrist.
āY- yes, oh my god,ā you cry out, hoarse voice cracking. āJust like that. Feels so fucking good.ā
āYeah?ā he asks breathily, tongue licking that sensitive spot just underneath your ear, then he bites down lightly on your earlobe, tugging it between his teeth.
You whimper in response, a needy moan escaping as you bite your lower lip.
His mouth moves lower, tongue tracing wet paths along your neck, sucking marks into your collarbone, then lapping at the swell of your breasts. He reaches your tit, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple before he latches on, sucking hard and pulling it deep into his warm mouth.
Your fingers thread into his thick, black hair, gripping the soft strands tightly as waves of pleasure ripple through you.
āDo you think you finally deserve to cum?ā Jungkook murmurs, eyes looking up at you. He leans in, pressing a trail of wet kisses along your ribs.
āYes!ā you cry out, your voice a high, breathless whine laced with desperation. āI do! Please, let me cum.ā
āYeah? You want it that bad?ā he taunts, stupid smirk plastered on his face.
āSo bad,ā the words spilled out in a broken gasp. Your hips snap upward on instinct, pussy clamping down hard around his plunging fingers.
But heās just as stubborn as you are, refusing to fully give you what you want. He slides his wet fingers out of you, turns the vibrator off once again, and throws it beside you carelessly.
āIām going to fucking kill you-ā you snap, sitting upright in a surge of frustration.
Jungkook shoves you onto your back by your shoulders. He picks a knee up, straddling your hips, locking you tight on either side of your waist to cage you in place.Ā
āI donāt think you deserve it just yet,ā he says, voice low and gravelly. His fingers pinch the zipper of his sweater, dragging it down slowly. The fabric splits apart, exposing his bare chest ā skin flushed, chest heaving up and down.
Your gaze lowers, catching the elastic band of his Calvinās peeking above the waistband of his gray sweats. Beneath the thin fabric, his stiff cock strains upward, creating a massive, throbbing bulge.
āWill you finally let me touch you?ā you murmur, voice laced with desperate hope, your fingers twitching at your sides, aching to wrap around his cock.
āNah,ā Jungkook denies with a slow shake of his head. āYouāre gonna lay there and watch me.ā
His fingers hook into the waistbands of both his boxers and sweats, yanking them down in one rough motion until they bunch around his muscular thighs. His cock bounces free, big and heavy. A low, needy whine escapes his lips at the sudden release from its confinement.Ā
Without hesitation, he grips his length with his right hand, still slick from your dripping arousal as he smears it all over his shaft in a firm, twisting pump. His fist moves up and down slowly, squeezing the base before sliding to the head, thumb rubbing the sensitive slit to coax out more pre-cum he uses as lube. His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, head tipping back as the relief and pleasure consumes him.
Yet his eyes snap open again, like he canāt risk missing even a second of you underneath him like this. His gaze drifts down your body ā your breasts rising and falling, palms resting on his thighs, eyes glued to his body ā as his fist slides along his cock, the wet sounds filling the room with his rough, panting breaths.
Saliva pools in your mouth, and you swallow hard as your pussy clenches at the sight above you. Memories of his body in the shower ā cock dangling heavily between his thighs, already impressive in its soft state. But with it right in front of you like this, fully erect, itās an entirely new level.
āKookā¦ā His name falls from your lips in a breathless awe as you stare, absolutely gagged by the monster heās been hiding in his pants this whole time.Ā
He moans low and guttural in response, eyes locked onto yours as his tattooed hand pumps his thick cock faster in rapid, relentless strokes that make his biceps flex and bulge. A sheen of sweat begins to form on his toned chest and stomach, making his skin glisten. The silver cross pendant on his chain bounces with every brutal twist of his wrist, while his messy, damp hair shakes with the force of his movements, strands sticking to his forehead.
Underneath him, you squeeze your thighs together tightly, creating pressure to ease the throbbing ache.
āYouāre so fucking difficult to live with,ā he admits through gritted teeth, voice breathy and strained. āEvery day you make it hard.ā
āYeah? Why is that?ā you counter, tone sultry and teasing as your gaze devours every inch of him.
āHave to fightā¦ ngh- t- the urge to not fuck you,ā he moans out, the confession ripping from him, hips beginning to buck into his hand.
Suddenly, the guilt over your obsessive fantasies washes away, and you donāt feel entirely bad anymore ā not when itās clear heās been living with the same desperate hunger.
āThen fuck me,ā you gasp out, desperation hungrily laced in your tone as you arch your hips toward him, granting him permission ā though he hardly needs it at this point.
āNo,ā he chuckles, shaking his head. āNot today.ā
āWhy not?ā you challenge, a slight pout forming at your lips.
āāCause youāve been fucking with me all week,ā he pants, arm jerking with every stroke. āThink I havenāt n- noticed the shorts youāve been wearing? Showering even longer than you already do? And then you mess with me while Iām streaming?ā
āWas trying to get your attention,ā you reason, face getting warm as another wave of arousal gushes out of you. āGot it now, havenāt I?ā
āBrat,ā he scoffs, shaking his head. Though a smirk pulls at his lips, dimple peeking through his cheek.Ā
You bite your lip, eyes locked on his cock. The muscles in his forearm flex as he works himself closer to the edge, his breath coming out raggedly. He leans forward suddenly, his free arm shooting out to steady himself onto the headboard above you.Ā
āGonna let me cum on you? Huh?ā he pants, voice strained with the building pressure.Ā
You nod frantically, lost in a haze of your own denied arousal, pussy still throbbing from his earlier torment.
āWhere do you want me, baby?ā he moans, slowing his strokes just enough to hold it out a second longer.
Your hands move on instinct as you grab fistfuls of your hair and sweep it all to one side, baring the full swell of your breasts. You push the soft mounds together with your arms, jutting your chest toward him slightly like an offering, the movement making your tits jiggle enticingly, begging for his release to paint you.
The sight undoes him. His arm falters for a second before a deep groan rumbles from his chest as the first hot rope of cum erupts from his cock, splattering across the tops of your breasts. He keeps pumping, fist squeezing tighter at the base to milk out every last bit. The rest paints your skin from collarbone to nipple, warm and sticky. His abs clench sharply with each release, body shuddering and breath hitching into whiny grunts.
āFuck,ā he whispers, voice hoarse, eyes fluttering shut as a wave of dizziness crashes over him from the intensity. He pushes himself off the bed, legs unsteady as he stands and kicks his pants the rest of the way down his thighs, letting them pool on the floor. āHold on.ā
You watch him walk out of the room, completely bare in your presence. The sight makes your thighs clench involuntarily for what feels like the millionth time tonight, arousal flooding from your aching pussy, wet and slimy as it coats the insides of your thighs.Ā
You remain sprawled on the bed, sighing deeply in contentment. Your clit throbs with neglected need, but the satisfaction of finally getting him to break is greater. After days of agonizing casualness with Jungkook ā brushing past each other in the kitchen like nothing had happened, fueling your frustration ā here you were, naked beneath him just moments ago and his warm jizz sticking across your skin.
The door creaks open again, and he saunters back in with a damp washcloth in one hand.
āYou nut in my hair,ā you whine as you touch the sticky strands clinging to your skin.
āLucky you,ā he teases, chuckling as he kneels beside you on the bed. He brings the warm rag to your chest, gently wiping away the fluid. The cloth glides over your breasts, catching every drop.
āNo,ā you pout, lips puffing out as you tilt your head to inspect the mess in your hair, fingers combing through. āIt wasnāt even hair wash day today.ā
āOh, stop it,ā he whines, amusement lacing his husky tone as he tosses the rag aside. āCāmere, Iāll make it up to you.ā
He climbs back onto the bed, strong hands gripping your knees and forcing them wide apart as he settles between your thighs.
āFucking hell,ā he breathes out, gaze locked on the mess between your legs. āSo fucking wet.ā
āItās your fault,ā you shoot back, a lingering grudge laced in your tone.
āReally? After that shit you pulled earlier?ā he counters, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers slide up your inner thigh. Without warning, he pushes two of them straight into your sopping entrance as he curls them just right, brushing that sensitive spot inside of you.
You hum low in your throat, the sound turning into a needy whine. āYou werenāt paying attention to me,ā you still complain, even as you chase the friction of his fingers.
āSorry, baby,ā he murmurs, fingers thrusting in and out with a gentle rhythm. The wet sounds of your pussy taking him fill the room, obscene and intoxicating. āDidnāt wanna coddle you. Just wanna give you your space.ā
āItās okay,ā you moan, words dissolving into a whisper as you reach down, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer to your heat. āJust make me cum, I deserve it.ā
āYeah, you do,ā he agrees, no hesitation in his tone.
His lips latch onto your clit with a firm suck, tongue flicking out to circle the sensitive nub. It pulls a sharp cry from your lips, thighs trembling against his hands as he holds you open, devouring you like heās starved. His fingers continue working inside you, scissoring and stretching your walls while his mouth alternates between sucking hard and lapping his tongue over your folds.
Your back begins to arch off the mattress, every muscle in your core clenching as that neglected orgasm quickly surges back up after the endless edging heās put you through.Ā
Then he nudges the tip of his round nose right against your clit, the firm press combined with the low vibrations of his own moaning sending you over the edge. You release with a choked cry, soaking his fingers and dripping down his chin. Waves of pleasure rip through you, grinding your wet folds against his face to chase every last spark. He doesnāt pull away ā instead, he laps at you greedily, fingers replaced with his tongue as he drinks down every last bit of your arousal, and his nose still rubs up and down over your throbbing clit until youāre trembling.
When he finally pulls back, his lips glossy with your juices, cheeks bloomed pink ā itās like deja vu from last time. He rises slowly, hovering over you again, caging you in with his broad frame. But this time, thereās no teasing. He just leans in, capturing your mouth in a gentle kiss, tongue sliding past your lips to feed you the taste of your own essence. You moan into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as your hands roam up his back.
He breaks the kiss with a gasp, then drops his head onto your chest. A tired moan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your skin as he goes limp. āDidnāt even fuck you and Iām exhausted.ā
You laugh breathlessly, the sound light despite the ache in your own limbs, tips of your nails massaging his scalp. āStill gotta shower.ā
āToo tired to stand up,ā he says quietly.
āWe can take a bath,ā you suggest softly. āIāll wash you up.ā
āSounds nice,ā he agrees, lifting his head just enough to press a lazy kiss to your collarbone, lips lingering like he doesnāt want to move.
āYeah,ā you murmur, smiling as you tilt his chin up for one more quick peck. āYouāre washing my sheets tomorrow, though.ā
He only groans in response before pushing himself up off you. Thereās no warning when his hands find you again ā firm, restrained ā as he lifts you clean off the bed and throws you over his shoulder. You let out a startled squeal, instinctively grabbing onto him as he walks out of your room toward the bathroom.
At some point, your phone buzzes faintly from where itās been abandoned.
Itās from Jennie ā asking if everything went as planned. You donāt see it.
Because by the time youāre done washing up, Jungkook doesnāt bother getting dressed. Just dries off and pulls you into his bed with him, so casually ā like itās the most natural thing in the world ā his arm settling around you, keeping you close.
And you let him.
You fell asleep there, in his space, in his arms ā bare and vulnerable.
Things definitely werenāt going back to casual after this.
Jungkook runs a major company with a packed schedule. Y/N is a well-known YouTuber and influencer who spends most of her life online. They match on Tinder with zero expectations, just casual flirting that quickly turns intense. Between missed schedules and busy lives, they never get the chance to meet. Attraction and curiosity take over instead ā late-night texts, video calls, sexting, and sending each other videos and photos from opposite sides of the screen.
pairing: ceo!jungkook x influencer!reader
genre: oneshot , age gap , online to offline , friends to lovers? , strangers to lovers , smut , VERY TINY fluff , online romance , voyeur , exhibitionism
warnings: use of online dating app , sexting , sex on camera (literally called cyber sex) , masterbation on and off camera , voyeurism (by jungkook) , dirty talk , degradation kink (oc) , tit play , cum swallowing , oral (f & m receiving) , unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap!) , 69 , jungkook calls oc ākittenā
word count: 40.k
playlist: cyber sex - doja cat
shaās note: i was listening to cyber sex and forgot how bomb this song was. i got inspired to write this š. also you guys voted for ācyber sexā as your most anticipated oneshot so lemme feed you. (edited) soā¦this oneshot took longer than expected. i really didnāt feel motivated AT ALL. but im glad its over. and LMAO i reached the maximum on this š
Jungkook didnāt even know why he still had the app since itād never done any good for him for the past year or so.
His thumb moved like it was bored of being attached to him ā efficient, ruthless, already sick of the options. The same thumb that had greenlit mergers, axed entire departments, ended careers with a flick. This wasnāt new muscle memory. Just cheaper faces. Lower risk. Zero consequences.
Under the conference table, his phone rested against his thigh like a secret. Above the table, he was immaculate ā black suit tailored within an inch of its life, shoulders squared, jaw locked into something expensive and unbothered. The face shareholders trusted. The face magazines loved. The face that ruined people quietly.
Another swipe.
Left.
Too polished. Corporate-hot. Eyes empty, like sheād already died a little inside.
Left.
Bathroom mirror. Topless. Boobs pushed up like a sales pitch.
Left.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Someone cleared their throat. Jungkook didnāt look up. Heād mastered the art of splitting himself clean down the middle years ago ā one version present in glass rooms that smelled like money and fear, the other drifting somewhere else entirely, unreachable, unaccountable.
Left.
āSir.ā
āYes,ā Jungkook replied instantly. He had absolutely no idea what heād just agreed to. Statistically, it would work out in his favor anyway.
Another slide clicked. Graphs bloomed across the screen, red and green arrows stabbing upward like they meant something sacred. The presenter kept talking ā market reach, consumer behavior, projected growth ā words stacking on top of each other until they turned into static.
Jungkook nodded once. Slow. Convincing. The nod of a man people believed.
Left. Left. Leftā
He stopped. Not because she was naked. Not because she was trying. She wasnāt doing anything at all.
Her photo wasnāt trying to fuck him. No strategic lighting. No mouth parted just enough to promise something. No dead-eyed stare begging for validation. She looked like she belonged in a Vogue spread ā head turned slightly to the side, hair caught by the wind like itād been paid to behave. Effortless. Controlled chaos.
Bare face, maybe. No dramatic lashes. No aggressive eyeshadow screaming for attention. And still ā stunning.
His gaze then moved down to her name and description.
Y/n. 21.
Her bio read: I talk to a camera for a living. I overthink everything else.
Jungkook frowned, thumb hovering. Annoyed at the pause. Annoyed at himself. Something in his head stalled ā gears grinding, logic buffering like a shitty Wi-Fi connection.
His mouth twitched. A breath slipped out of him before he could stop it. āā¦huh.ā
āYou good, sir?ā someone asked carefully.
āYesā¦ā Jungkook said, eyes glued to the screen. It was a lie. Interest crept up his spine like heat finding a crack ā unwanted, irritating, dangerous. He scrolled.
Ah.
Influencer. YouTuber. Instagram linked.
āSo,ā the presenter said, voice tightening, āas you can see on slide twelveāā Josiah stopped mid-sentence when he noticed his boss. The absence.
āSir?ā he tried again, swallowing. āSir,ā he said, carefully. āShould Iā¦ pause?ā The room stiffened.
āNo,ā he said. Calm. Still not glancing up āContinue.ā His hand waving forward as permission.
Josiah hesitated. āYou justā you seemed distracted.ā That specific, horrible silence ā the one where everyone collectively thought oh shit.
Jungkookās thumb stilled. Slowly, he looked up. Finally. Josiah paled instantly.
Jungkook straightened in his chair, slipping the phone face-down onto his thigh. His posture shifted, something predatory clicking into place. The air felt heavier, like pressure before a storm.
āJosiah,ā Jungkook said mildly. Which was worse āAre you uncomfortable presenting?ā he asked mildly.
Josiahās face drained of color. āNo. No, sir. I justāā
āThen present.ā
Silence. Then the click of slides resuming. Jungkook listened this time. Or enough of the time. Unfortunately for him.
When it ended, Josiah waited with a hopeful smile for an approval. Jungkook stood. The chair scraping back was obscenely loud. He buttoned his blazer with deliberate calm, rolled his shoulders like he was assembling himself piece by piece into something untouchable.
āWeāll move forward,ā he said. āAs proposed.ā
There was a beat.
āAll of it?ā someone asked.
āYes.ā
āBut the marketing capāā
āAdjust it later,ā Jungkook said, already turning. āMeetingās over.ā
Murmurs rippled around the table. Jungkook was already walking.
āSir!ā Mr. Song hurried after him into the hallway. āSirāwait.ā
Jungkook didnāt slow. His phone was back in his hand, screen glowing, her face filling it like a problem he suddenly didnāt want solved. He scrolled through her Instagram ā captions casual, a little self-aware, written like she never expected someone like him to be reading them.
Mr. Song walked half a step behind him. Always had. Close enough to intervene. Far enough to not overstep. āYou just approved everything.ā
āMm.ā
āWithout revisions.ā
āYes.ā
āThatāsā¦ not like you.ā
Jungkook didnāt answer. His shoes clicked against the floor, steady, unhurried.
āSir,ā Mr. Song continued, lowering his voice as they passed an open office, āwe didnāt even discuss risk mitigation. Or timelines.ā
Jungkook exhaled through his nose. āWeāve discussed them before. You guys would know what to do.ā
āYes,ā Mr. Song said. āBut not this.ā They reached the elevators. Jungkook pressed the button once. Then again, unnecessarily. āYou donāt usually end meetings early,ā Mr. Song added. Not accusatory. Observational.
āThat meeting was circling,ā Jungkook replied. āNothing new was going to happen in the next thirty minutes. Maybe get Josiah a presenting trainer or something.ā
Mr. Song hummed, unconvinced. The elevator dinged. Doors slid open. Inside, the silence pressed closer. The doors closed. The elevator descended.
āTwenty thousand,ā Mr. Song said. āYou know itās not enough.ā
āItās enough to start.ā
āAnd if it fails?ā
Jungkook shrugged. āThen we course-correct.āMr. Song sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
āYou donāt usually ācourse-correct.ā You usually donāt move until youāre certain.ā
The elevator slowed. Jungkook stared at the numbers ticking down like he was waiting for something to land. Jungkook stared at him. Then huffed a quiet laugh ā not amused, not angry. Justā¦ tired. āYouāre worried,ā Jungkook said.
āOf course I am, Mr Jeon.ā
Jungkook exhaled, tired, indulgent. He patted Mr. Songās arm like he was soothing a nervous dog.
āRelax. Your paycheckās safe.ā Then he turned away.
His thumb hovered again. This wasā¦probably stupid. And God, he wanted it. Against instinct. Against habit. Against every rule that had ever kept him untouchableā
Jungkook swiped right.
ā®ļøāøļøāļø
The building is dead quiet ā the kind of quiet that presses against your skin, that makes you too aware of your own breathing.
Jungkookās office is the only thing awake on the forty-fifth floor, lights still on like heās got something to confess. Midnight pools against the windows. The city below flickers, restless, alive. Unlike him.
His tie loose around his neck. Jacket abandoned somewhere he canāt remember. Sleeves rolled up, forearms tight where the fabric cuts in ā like his bodyās been wound too long and never let loose.
He couldāve gone home. He didnāt. The monitor held him there like a bad habit.
Her Instagram glows on his desktop. Not his phone this time nor absentmindedly. Alone, finally, he scrolls without interruption, without employees asking āis this okay, sir?ā or āwhat are your thoughts, boss?ā. Nothing to pull his attention away from what he wants. Or more precisely ā what his dick has already decided it wants.
Scroll.
Travel photos. Festival crowds. Recent birthday post. Club bathrooms. Hotel balconies. A photo dump, spoiling her next YouTube video.
He knows her rhythm now. When she posts. When she disappears. Her signature poseāa wink with her lips puckered. Sometimes even sticking out her tongue which damn made Jungkook feel himself stiffen inside his pants. How sometimes heād imagine her tongue dragging up his cock from base to tip.
His shoulders ache ā that dull, familiar stiffness from too many late nights and not enough release. He rolls his neck once, sharp crack echoing too loud in the empty room.
Scroll.
Then stop. Coachella. Last year. The photo hits him slow and deep, like a bruise forming.
Sunburnt confidence. Bare skin and reckless joy. Her top clinging like itās losing a fight, skirt so short it feels illegal, like one wrong move would change everything. Tongue out like she could taste him through the screen. Wink sharp. Fingers pressed against boobs like she owns the moment ā like she knows sheās being looked at.
Jungkookās breath hitched before he can stop it. āFuck,ā he mutters, voice low, unused.
His body reacts before his brain catches up ā heat pooling low, spine tightening, pulse thudding somewhere he canāt ignore. His cock throbbed against his thigh, already hard enough to hammer nails. He shifts in his chair, jaw tightening like he can physically bite the thought back.
āJesus Christ,ā he exhales, slower this time.
The room feels warmer. Smaller. His shirt clings faintly to his back. His hands curl once at his sides, then flatten against the desk like he needs something solid to ground him.
This isnāt porn. This isnāt fantasy. This is worse. This is real. A woman who exists in pixels and soundwaves and algorithms ā who doesnāt know his name, doesnāt know heās memorized the curve of her smile in less than a day.
Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose. Fucking patheticāalmost-mid-thirties, ceo, jacking off to a twenty-something influencer in his luxury office like some horny intern.
He could smell his own desperationāsweat and pre-cum and the stale tang of too many long, sometimes lonely nights.
His hand lifted from the mouse. The belt buckle clanked against the armrest as he wrenched it open. His zipper snarled halfway down, caught on the bulge straining against his briefs. Jungkook swore, shoving the fabric past his hips with one rough yank. His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach with a wet smack. Precum already beaded at the tip, glistening under the sterile office lights. Fingers wrapped around himself, calloused grip pulling a hiss from his teeth.
"Goddamn tease," he growled at the screen, hips bucking into his fist, thumb catching on the swollen vein running along the underside.
His fingers tightened around his cockātoo tight, almost punishingāas he imagined dragging her back against his desk by that stupid little skirt. The one barely covering her ass. The one he'd hike up with one rough hand while the other smacked her ass pink, leaving marks she'd feel for days.
She'd whimper, he knew she wouldāshe looked like the type.
Precum dripped down his fingers as he pictured her bent over his mahogany desk, his tie wrapped around her throat like a leash, his cock dragging wet stripes across her ass before shoving in without warning.
No foreplay, no mercyājust the choked-off cry he knew she'd make when he bottomed out, the way her nails would scratch at the polished wood as he fucked her stupid.
Bet you'd take it.
Thumb pressing against the slit, spreading the wetness down his shaft.
The monitor flickeredāher tongue out, sweat glistening between her titsāand he groaned, hips stuttering. His balls tightened, the heat coiling low and vicious. Close. So fucking close.
His breath came rough, ragged. The leather creaked under his shifting weight, his free hand gripping the armrest hard enough to leave imprints.
The fantasy burned behind his eyelidsāher mouth slack around him, mascara smudged, throat working as he fucked into it. The wet choke when he pushed too deep. The way her fingers would claw at his thighs, like she couldn't decide whether to pull him closer or shove him away.
"Fuckā" His wrist twisted, thumb circling the swollen head, and his stomach muscles locked. He could almost feel itāher cunt clenching around him, hot and slick, her nails raking down his back as he pounded into her. His teeth bared.
"Gonnaā" The orgasm hit like a live wire, spine arching off the chair as his cum striped his stomach in thick, hot pulses.
Panting, he slumped back, chest heaving. The screen still glowedāher grin, her winkāand shame curled sour in his gut. He swiped a hand over his face, sticky with sweat.
"Fucking hell," he breathed, staring at the mess on his skin. The clock read 11:37 PM. The officeās silence and cold air returned. He reached for the tissues, crumpling them in his fist. This wasn'tāhe shouldn'tā
His phone buzzed. A notification.
Itās a match!
For a second, he just stared. Like the words might rearrange themselves if he waited long enough. He blinked once. Then again.
Still there.
A stupid, disbelieving breath slipped out of him ā half laugh, half disbelief. Of all things. The phone buzzed again, almost immediately.
āhey, handsome šā
ā®ļøāøļøāļø
āAnd Iāll see you guys next week. Byeee!ā
Y/N waved at the camera, head tilted just enough to be cute, smile wide and practiced ā the kind sheād perfected over years of talking to a lens like it was a person. She hit the stop button, and the grin slowly slipped right off her face. Her cheeks relaxed. Her shoulders dropped.
Silence.
She stared at her reflection in the dark camera screen for a second, then scoffed softly. God, she was tired.
That was the outro. Finally. A week late, but whatever. The vlog was from Las Vegas ā her twenty-first birthday trip. Neon lights, drunk laughter, too many shots, not enough sleep. Turning twenty-one felt less like a milestone and more like a quiet shift, something settling in her chest. She was an adult now. Not ālegally allowed to watch horror, explicit moviesā adult. Real adult. The kind with choices. Responsibilities. Freedom. And yeah ā horny consequences.
Call her impulsive. Call her unhinged. But the very first thing she did when the clock struck midnight on her birthday was download Tinder. Sure, the minimum age was eighteen. But sheād still been living with her parents then, and the idea of them accidentally seeing Tinder notifications pop up on her phone, asking her whether she liked it rough or soft, made her soul want to leave her body. Now? Her apartment. Her bills. Her rules.
Like any other human being, the girl ā or rather woman ā was horny. No shame in it. Honestly, the older you get, the worse it becomes. Hormones with opinions. Curiosity with teeth. And what better way to meet people than an app literally designed for it?
She had briefly considered starting an OnlyFans ā the thought crossed her mind once or twice ā but realistically, she wasnāt that person. She liked attention, sure, but not like that. Besides, YouTube already paid her rent and then some. Normal dates? Casual hookups? Yeah. She could do that.
She set her camera aside and padded into the kitchen, glancing at the clock. 11:47 p.m.
āFuck,ā she muttered. She hadnāt eaten.
Editing had swallowed her whole ā Vegas clips blurring together until she realized sheād forgotten an outro and panic-filmed one in her pajamas.
Dinner ended up being simple. Mushroom soup and garlic bread. Low effort, low expectations. One hand stirred the grey soup slowly, the other held her phone.
Swipe leftā¦and swipe left.
Her sigh was heavy, restless. Cheeks puffing out as she exhaled.
The men wereā¦ fine. Debatably attractive. Either way too hot and clearly aware of it ā asshole energy leaking through the screen ā or just wildly not her type. Why was it always one extreme or the other?
Whereās all the fucking luck in the world when you need it? Lord, spare me.
Her thumb went numb, swiping left on autopilot, brain checked out. At this rate, sheād rather swallow the knife sitting next to the stove than sit through another profile that said āentrepreneurā with zero explanation. ThenāShe stopped.
Her thumb froze mid-swipe. Finally someone decent. Correction. More than just decent. Attractive. Hot. Handsome in a way that felt unfair.
Her gaze lingered on his photo. He had soft eyes ā round, dark, almost innocent. Boba eyes, she thought stupidly. And yet, there was something under it. A pull. A look that said I could ruin you if I wanted to. Lip piercing. Silver ring at the corner of his mouth. Another just beneath his bottom lip.
Her stomach did a slow, traitorous flip. āJesus,ā she murmured. She looked down.
Jungkook. 33.
Okay. Older. She liked that.
His bio read: international playboy
āPfft,ā she scoffed, rolling her eyes. āYeah, okayāā she muttered, stirring the soup harder than necessary. āāSure you are.ā Still. She looked back up. Looked again. And again.
Something about him didnāt match the bio. The eyes were too calm. Too real. Like the caption was a joke, or armor, or both.
Her soup started bubbling over.
āFuckāā
She turned the heat down, heart thumping for no logical reason, phone still in her hand.
āā¦annoying,ā she whispered ā and swiped right anyway.
Y/N didnāt hesitate. The soup simmered forgotten on the stove as she tapped out the message, lips curving like she already knew the outcome.
Y/N: hey handsome š
She hit send. And instantly.
Seen.
Her brows lifted. āOhāā she murmured. āOkay.ā Her phone buzzed again before she could overthink it.
Jungkook: that was fast
Y/N scoffed softly, stirring the soup again just to give her hands something to do.
You say that like you didnāt open it in two seconds, sir.
Y/N: what, no hello?
Jungkook: hello.
Jungkook: you always this bold or am i special?
She bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing a grin. Heat crept up her neck ā annoying, welcome.
āRelax,ā she muttered to herself. āYouāre literally hot. Thatās it.ā
Y/N: depends
Y/N: do u always ask questions u already know the answer to orā¦
Jungkook: mm
Jungkook: i like you already
Y/N: that makes one of us
Lie.
Jungkook: you dont mean that
Jungkook: you wouldnt have swiped right if you didnt like something
She laughed under her breath. āCocky,ā she whispered, fondly annoyed, like she could hear his smirk from across the screen.
Y/N: maybe i was bored š¤·āāļø
Jungkook: at midnight?
She glanced at the clock. 12:06 a.m.
Y/N: okayā¦
Y/N: maybe not bored
Y/N: just curious
Jungkook: thats worse
Y/N: how so?
Jungkook: ever heard the phrase ācuriosity killed the catā?
She leaned her hip against the counter, garlic bread and soup forgotten, phone warm in her palm.
Is he flirting or threatening?
Y/N: sounds like experience talking
Jungkook: very much so
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. She waited, pulse ticking louder than it should.
Jungkook: so tell me
Jungkook: what made you stop scrolling?
Y/N: u put āinternational playboyā in your bio. i assumed u were joking.
Jungkook: half joking. half warning
Y/N: and which half am i supposed to believe?
Jungkook: the one that makes you stay
Her breath hitched ā stupid, involuntary. She stared at the screen, smiling despite herself.
āWow,ā she whispered. āNo filter at all.ā Her gaze drifted back to his profile photo ā the eyes, the piercings, the calm confidence that felt earned. Her phone buzzed once more, softer this time ā like a final nudge.
Jungkook: you still there, birthday girl?
Her eyes widened. āOh my god.ā
Y/N: how did u know??
Jungkook: instagram
Jungkook: also, happy belated birthday.
Something in her chest softened ā just a crack.
Y/N: damn
Y/N: already stalking me?
Jungkook: you were intriguing
Jungkook: your photos got me hard, baby
Jungkook: i just came but the process wouldāve been much more pleasurable if it were you physically making me cum
Her throat went dry, fingers hovering over the screen. The confession was boldāno, outright filthyābut the way he delivered it felt like a challenge rather than desperation. A slow smirk curled her lips. Two could play this game.
Y/N: bold words for a guy who hasnt even touched me
The reply came instantly, a grainy video loading beneath his messageājust the sound of ragged breathing and a tattooed hand wrapped around his cock, thick and flushed standing in front of his clothed body. Her breath hitched.
Jungkook: next time ill record it with you riding me and upload it
Jungkook: sound on so all your subscribers know who you belong to
Her pulse roared in her ears. She shouldāve been scandalized. Instead, heat pooled low in her stomach.
Y/N: cocky bastard
Y/N: assuming there will even be a next time
Jungkook: oh there will be
Jungkook: youre already imagining it
The accuracy punched the air from her lungs. Her kitchen smelled like burnt garlic now, the soup bubbling ominously. She turned off the burner with one hand, the other typing fast.
Y/N: and if i am?
Jungkook: tell me where
Y/N: i just met u mr international playboy
Y/N: what makes u think i trust u enough to send my address?
Jungkook: valid
Jungkook: then weāll do it through the screen
Y/N blinked. The words lingered between themābold, ridiculous, delicious. She scoffed, shaking her head at her darkened reflection in the microwave door. She laughed to the empty kitchen, half-amused, half-aroused by the sheer audacity.
Y/N: like cyber sex?
Jungkook: haha unless youāre scared
Her thumbs flew before she could second-guess it.
Y/N: oh please
Jungkook: tell me what youre wearing baby
She hesitated, then smirked, typing one-handed while the other tugged her sweater above her chest to snap a quick tilted selfieāher neckline and below, the curve of her boob framed by her lace bra.
Y/N: wouldnt u like to know handsome
His response was instant. A voice message. She held the phone to her ear, his groan vibrating through her skull.
"Fuck. Teasing me already?" The sound of his voiceārough, impatientāsent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip.
Jungkook: touch yourself for me
Y/N: youre awfully demanding for a man who hasnt earned it
Jungkook: then earn me
Jungkook: or are you all talk?
Y/Nās fingers twitched toward the waistband of her shorts.
"Bastard," she whisperedābut she was already pulling them down to pool at her feet. The cool air kissed her ass as she tapped out a reply, hips shifting against the counterās edge.
Y/N: bold of u to assume im not already
She pressed her fingertips against herself through the lace, exhaling sharply at the contact. The fabric was damp.
Jungkook: prove it
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she dragged the lace aside, fingertips finding slick heat. A shudder ripped through her. "Fuck," she hissed, thumb circling slow.
Y/N: happy?
She added a photoājust her hand disappearing between her thighs, the lace pushed aside, glistening.
Jungkookās reply was a voice note. She played it, his voice darkening. "Look at you. Drenched for me already."
Her knees nearly buckled. "Cocky asshole," she breathedābut her fingers pressed deeper, rewarded by the slick slide of her own arousal and imagining it was him pleasuring her.
Y/N: ure not even here
Y/N: how could u be the reason im wet?
Another message lit up her screenāa video. Jungkookās hand fisted around his cock, stroking slow.
"This what you wanted?" he murmured off-camera. The back of Y/Nās hand flew to her mouth, stifling a moan. The wet sound of itāskin on skin, his quiet gruntāechoed in her skull.
Y/N: ure insufferable
Jungkook: and youre touching yourself to it
She couldnāt deny it. Her hips rolled against her hand, the counter digging into her back. "God," she whimpered, the word slipping out unbidden. Her breath hitched as her fingers curledājust rightāand her head tipped back. "Fuck. Fuck." The words tumbled into the empty kitchen, unanswered. Jungkookās next text glowed against the dark screen.
Jungkook: id make you scream my name
Jungkook: though, youd probably do all that by yourself already
Y/Nās laugh was shaky. āNot tonight,ā she almost repliedābut her fingers sped up, chasing the heat coiling low in her stomach. The idea of himāthe audacity of himāwrapped around her tighter than any touch. She typed fast, pulse hammering.
Y/N: bold of u to assume i havent alr imagined it
The reply came instantlyāa photo this time. Jungkookās hand splayed against his clothed thigh, long fingers flexing. The text beneath it burned.
Jungkook: imagine these pushing in
Jungkook: slow at first
Jungkook: just the tips
Her breath caught. The specificity of itāthe visualāsent a jolt through her. She pressed her thighs together, clenching her buried fingers, biting back a whimper.
Y/N: u talk too much
Jungkook: you like it
She did.
Jungkook: curling just there
Y/N: u dont know where āthereā is
Jungkook: dont i?
Her thumb circled faster, hips lifting off the counterās edge. āAsshole,ā she hissedābut her stomach clenched at the thought, wetness slick between her fingers.
Jungkook: youre arching right now
Jungkook: biting your lip
Jungkook: trying not to make noise
How the fuck?
She exhaled sharply, fingers stuttering. The certainty in his wordsālike he could see herāsent heat licking up her spine.
Y/N: lucky guesses
Jungkook: or im just that good
She rolled her eyesābut her thighs trembled.
Jungkook: imagine my mouth there next
Jungkook: my tongue flat
Jungkook: dragging up slow
Her hips jerked. āFuck,ā she gasped, the word cracking open.
Her phone buzzed againāa voice note. She played it, his groan vibrating through her: "Youāre so fucking wet for me already." Her fingers slid deeper, the sound of him unraveling her.
Jungkook: cum for me
The command punched through herārough, needing. Her back hit the cabinets, vision blurring as pleasure grew, gradual but sharp.
Jungkookās next text was immediateāa video. Him, stroking fast. "Next time," he gritted out off camera, "itāll be my tongue."
Her stomach flipped. Next time. The promise lingered, heavy and hot
Y/N fumbled with her phone, fingers still trembling as she adjusted the angle. The screen framed her parted thighs, the slick shine between them, the way her other hand movedānot fast enough.
She sped up, breath hitching, and hit record. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, her moans pitching higher, unchecked. A sharp gasp. Then the crest hit, her back arching away from the counter as her hips jerked, a broken cry tearing loose. The video cut off with her slumped against the cabinets, chest heaving. She sent it before she could rethink it.
One blink. Two. Her phone buzzed instantly.
Jungkook: fuck look at you
Jungkook: wanna ruin you and lick you clean
Her thighs clenched at the low groan that followedālike he was already imagining it. Like heād drag her under the second he got the chance.
Y/N: iāll ruin u first
She typed back, thumb hovering before sending. Bold. Maybe too bold. But the sting of her nails digging into her own hip still burned, proof she wasnāt just talking.
His reply came in burstsādeliberate. Taunting.
Jungkook: try
Jungkook: youll beg for more
The phone clattered onto the counter when she shoved it away, heat pooling low again.
God, he was insufferable. And she wanted him anyway. Wanted the way his voice dipped rough at the edges, the way heād smirk if he saw her nowālips bitten red, skin flushed. She traced her collarbone absently, already imagining his mouth there instead.
Y/N: ure greedy.
Jungkook: for you?
Jungkook: always
A shiver ran down her spine. She bit her lip, consideringāthen snapped a quick photo: her legs still parted, fingers glistening. The flash caught the sweat at her throat, the messy hair sticking to her forehead.
Y/N: satisfied?
Jungkook: not even close
Jungkook: itd be much more satisfying if your cum was dripping down my cock kitten
Y/N rolled her eyesābut her stomach flipped.
Jungkook: but thatās for next time baby
The message blinked up at herābold, presumptuous, electric. Y/N stared at the screen, fingers still twitching against her thigh. The aftershocks pulsed through her, slow and syrupy, and she exhaled a shaky laugh.
And the stranger on her phoneāJungkook, international playboy, arrogant bastardāhad just wrecked her without laying a single finger on her.
She typed, deleted, typed again. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, her usual sharp retorts failing her.
What do you even say after that? After coming undone to the sound of a thirty-three year old manās voice, after sending him proof like some desperate, panting mess? Hell she didnāt even know this man. Just that he was probably too old for her, had hot tattoos, and piercings paired with eyes that totally mismatched the vibe.
Y/N: ure ridiculous
Her thumb hovered over sendāweak, deflection. She deleted it.
Jungkook: goodnight kitten
Jungkook: dont forget who got you off tonight
The message glowed on her screen like a brand. Y/N stared at it, thighs still slick, the ghost of her own fingers lingering between them. Her pulse hammered unevenlyāpart irritation, part thrill.
"Kitten?" she muttered, wiping her hand on her discarded sweater. "Who the hell says 'kitten'?" But her traitorous stomach swooped anyway.
She slumped against the counter behind her, the cold marble seeping into her bare skin. The kitchen smelled like sex and burnt garlic, the abandoned soup congealing in the pot.
"What the fuck just happened," she breathed.
A strangerāa glorified pixelated smirkāhad just reduced her to a shuddering, gasping mess in her own kitchen at midnight.
And worse? She'd loved every second of it.
ā®ļøāøļøāļø
It had been days since sexting mr international playboy. Four to be exact. Four fucking days since that last filthy message from Jungkookāsince the videos that made her bite her lip raw the first time she saw them. No text, no voice note, no reaction emoji accidentally sent at 2 a.m.
Nothing. Radio silence.
YN felt stupid. Not heartbroken ā that would be dramatic ā but foolish in the way an immature teenager would feel when their crush rejected them.
What was she expecting anyways? The dude was thirty-three. He probably had meetings, deadlines, responsibilities. A whole adult life that didnāt involve lying on his bed with his phone in hand, waiting for her reply. Y/n found herself in her spinning chair, editing vlogs while her pussy throbs for some dick. Specifically Jungkookās.
The pornographic videos were nailed in her head. She even still had excess to it in her tinder chat. Zero shame dressing her when she pulls them up as she pleasures herself at night with Jungkookās voice playing in the background all grainy and echoey.
She hated how easily her body remembered something that wasnāt even real. But it wasnāt enough for Y/n. As much as she yearned for Jungkookās touch and his inches, Y/n refused to be the girl who folded first just because she was restless and lonely. Pride mattered. Even now.
So she did what any modern twenty-something did when she needed distraction, validation, and noise loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She texted her clique.
Club tonight?
And just like that, the plan was set.
That night was Jungkookās last in China. He returned to his hotel close to midnight, jacket shrugged off the moment the door shut behind him.
Luckily, the concept landed. Still, relief didnāt erase exhaustion.
The past three days had been relentless ā back-to-back dinners, galas that required the right laugh at the right time, store openings flooded with cameras, press interviews where every word had to be calculated. His schedule hadnāt just been packed; it had been unforgiving. There was no room for distraction. No room for indulgence.
No room for her.
Jungkook knew better than to send a casual text. A simple āheyā would never stay simple. If he reached out, heād want to mean it ā to unravel the tension that had been coiled in him since that night, to let the conversation slide somewhere reckless and indulgent.
Heād want to send her details of how heād take her. Have her face smashed into his pillow. Her bare ass up in the air as if inviting his hard dick to slide in. How heād show no mercy and slam his cock balls deep and calling her his slut.
It was entirely inappropriate for a man running on four hours of sleep and a dozen obligations. So he didnāt text. Didnāt open the chat. Heck he didnāt even have time to wank. His work schedule straight up said āno cumming this week.ā
Work had demanded everything this week ā his focus, his restraint, his discipline. Desire would have to wait. Even if it lingered, heavy and unresolved, in the quiet of his hotel room.
Lucky for Jungkook, it was his final night overseas. His flight back to Korea wasnāt until late afternoon, which meantāfor the first time all weekānothing was waiting for him. No assistants knocking. No calls lined up. No schedule breathing down his neck.
He shifted on the hotel bed, lifting himself just enough to fish his phone out from his back pocket. The mattress dipped again beneath his weight as he fell back, one arm flung over his head.
Finally. His phoneāfor him.
His thumb moved on instinct, tapping Instagram before he could overthink it. The feed loaded, and like the universe had been paying attention, her story sat first in the row.
Of course.
The corner of his mouth tugged upward, faint and knowing. Heād been curiousātoo curiousāabout what his kitten had been up to while heād been shaking hands and selling futures.
He tapped. Music burst through the speakers. Low lights. Movement. Y/n, flushed and glowing, dancing at a club withā
Jungkook stilled.
āA guyā¦?ā he muttered, brows pulling together.
It wasnāt innocent dancing. Her arm rested easy over the guyās shoulder, familiarity written into the way she leaned into him. A drink in her other hand. The manās fingers lingered too comfortably at her waist, brushing her cheek when she laughed. And thenājust barelyāhis hand slid lower.
Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tightening as he watched the clip move to the next story.
Three days. Three exhausting, sleepless days across the ocean, and this was what greeted him. As if she hadnāt been breathless on his screen days ago. As if she hadnāt undone him from thousands of miles away. As if she didnāt just sent Jungkook a video of her cumming on 4k.
He scoffed, shaking his head once. āYou fucking slutā¦ā
Still, his thumb movedāslow, deliberateāas he tapped the message box beneath her story. Not angry. Not impulsive. Possessive.
mnijungkook: i go mia for three four days and this is what i see when i open my insta?
mnijungkook: youāre begging me to punish you, kitten
He sent it before he could talk himself out of it, phone heavy in his palm as the story replayed once more.
Yeah. He was definitely back.
Within seven minutes, Jungkook was out of the shower, towel slung low around his hips, steam still clinging to his skin. He tugged on a clean shirt and sweats, barely drying his hair properly as he rubbed at it rough and careless, water dripping onto the hotel carpet.
He dropped onto the bed, mattress sighing beneath his weight, and reached for his phone with his free hand.
The screen lit up. As expected.
iamyn: hey handsome
That stupid little pet name hit him right in the chest every time. Jungkook exhaled a quiet laugh, head tipping back against the headboard, lips tugging into a smile he didnāt bother suppressing.
Thirty-three years old and reduced to this.
iamyn: u cant expect me to just stay home and wait for u
He pictured her saying itāchin lifted, eyes sharp, mouth unapologetic. His thumbs moved easily.
mnijungkook: i was on a business trip, baby
mnijungkook: back to back meetings and events
mnijungkook: i barely had time to breathe
mnijungkook: otherwise i wouldāve checked in and told you exactly how much i want you
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
iamyn: business trip?
iamyn: tell ur boss i said fuck u
iamyn: how dare he stop u from making me feel good
iamyn: the screenās already a good enough cockblock š
A laugh slipped out of him before he could stop itālow, genuine, echoing softly in the hotel room. He scrubbed the towel through his hair again, shaking his head.
God. Sheās trouble.
mnijungkook: funny thing is
mnijungkook: i am my own boss kitten
mnijungkook: i run the company
Silence. No typing bubble. No immediate clapback. Jungkook smirked, settling deeper into the pillows.
mnijungkook: what?
mnijungkook: surprised?
The reply came slower this time.
iamyn: yeahā¦
iamyn: yeah actually
He could practically hear the disbelief in her voice now. The recalculation. The way her confidence would wobble just a little before snapping right back into place. Jungkookās smile softenedādangerous, amused.
mnijungkook: dont overthink it baby
mnijungkook: im still just the guy who matched with you on tinder
mnijungkook: except now you know iām busy
iamyn: yeah
iamyn: mr international playboy
iamyn: or better yet, mr ceo
He watched the typing bubble flicker on and off, a quiet thrill settling low in his chest.
Yeah. This wasnāt just flirting anymore.
The typing bubble appeared again. Disappeared. Came back. Jungkook watched it like a game of chicken.
iamyn: so
iamyn: ceo huh
iamyn: guess that explains the confidence
mnijungkook: confidence comes with responsibility
mnijungkook: and patience
A pause.
mnijungkook: something you seem to struggle with
iamyn: wow
iamyn: did u just psychoanalyze me
mnijungkook: a little
mnijungkook: you dont like being ignored
He imagined her scoffing, rolling her eyes even though he wasnāt wrong.
iamyn: i dont like being forgotten
iamyn: theres a difference
That one landed heavier than he expected. Jungkook sat up straighter, towel finally discarded, elbows resting on his knees.
mnijungkook: i didnt forget you baby
mnijungkook: i could never
mnijungkook: just didnt trust myself to text you halfway
mnijungkook: because i dont do half ass attention
The reply came slower this time.
iamyn: thats dangerously smooth
iamyn: do u practice this or does it come naturally
mnijungkook: you matched with me
mnijungkook: what do you think
iamyn: š¤
iamyn: i should be fucking embarrassed
iamyn: i sexted a stranger with a corporate title
mnijungkook: and yet
mnijungkook: youre still texting me
Silence. Just long enough to make him wonder. Thenā
iamyn: yeah
iamyn: cus i kinda wanna see what happens next
Jungkook leaned back against the headboard, phone warm in his palm, eyes unfocused.
mnijungkook: good
mnijungkook: because so do i
And just like that, the tension settled ā not resolved, not rushed. The silence stretched just long enough for him to think about that guy again. The hand on her waist. The way sheād laughed into the camera like she didnāt belong to anyone. His jaw ticked.
mnijungkook: soā¦
mnijungkook: who was he
Simple. Flat. No emoji. No smile. She didnāt reply right away.
iamyn: who š
He scoffed softly, thumb tapping once against the screen.
mnijungkook: donāt play dumb
mnijungkook: the guy in your story
Three dots. Gone. Back again.
iamyn: mr ceo
iamyn:are uā¦ jealous?
He smiled, slow and unapologetic.
mnijungkook: no shit
mnijungkook: youve been mine since we matched kitten
iamyn: excuse me???
iamyn: u disappear for days and now im urs?
mnijungkook: you want me to lie?
A pause.
mnijungkook: so tell me
mnijungkook: who is he kitten?
iamyn: hes just a friend
iamyn: i went out with friends
iamyn: im allowed to have those, mr ceo
mnijungkook: never said you werent allowed
mnijungkook: doesnt mean i have to like it
iamyn: youre ridiculous
mnijungkook: and honest
He shifted on the bed, tone changingāless sharp, more deliberate.
mnijungkook: listen to me
mnijungkook: i promise you this baby
mnijungkook: no more disappearing
mnijungkook: if im busy, ill tell you
mnijungkook: if i want you, youll know
Her response came quieter, stripped of jokes.
iamyn: thats a dangerous promise mr ceo
mnijungkook: i dont make empty ones
Then the line that sealed itāpossessive but steady, not rushed.
mnijungkook: youre mine
mnijungkook: and im yours
iamyn: well shit
He smiled to himself.
Hooked.
mnijungkook: then its settled
mnijungkook: now, send me a pic of yourself kitten
ā®ļøāøļøāļø
Three weeks passed like a bad habit no one bothered to quit.
It started filthy. Screens lighting up at ungodly hours, texts and video or photo attachments sent with zero shame and even less restraint. Words that made Y/N stare at her ceiling afterward, pulse still loud in her ears, wondering when exactly this man slipped under her skin. Sexting that blurred nights together, that made time zones irrelevant and self-control a joke. But somewhere along the way, it softened.
They still flirted like it was foreplay. Jungkook still called her kitten or baby like it rolled off his tongue naturally, like heād earned the right. She still called him Mr. CEO or handsome just to hear the way his voice dipped when he laughed.
But they alsoā¦ talked. Real shit.
Jungkook sent photos of airport windows streaked with rain, spreadsheets that meant nothing to her, hotel ceilings at 2 a.m. with captions like āanother night babysitting grown men.ā
He admittedāoffhand, like it didnāt matterāthat he hadnāt been in a committed relationship in nearly ten years. Not because he didnāt want one. But because work had a way of swallowing everything else whole.
Y/N told him about starting YouTube at nineteen with a shitty camera and blind optimism. About learning everything the hard way. About how weird it felt to have strangers know her voice, her laugh, her face while still feeling lonely as hell sometimes.
They send more voice notes now. Lazy ones. Sleepy ones. Sometimes even calls. Jungkookās voice low and rough when he was tired, Y/Nās soft and unguarded when she forgot to be careful. It was comfortable. And that was the scary part.
That was how she ended up sprawled across her bed one night, phone resting next to her. Her laptop open, the soft glow of her editing software still running in the background. Midnight had already come and gone. Her room was quiet except for the hum of her air conditioner. Curiosity gnawing at her ribs.
She opened Tinder again on her phoneānot to swipe, just to look. There he was. That same single photo. The only one heād ever posted. Clean. Intentionally casual. Infuriatingly attractive.
She then opened Jungkookās Instagram, again, on her laptop.
Still nothing.
No posts. No tagged photos. No stupid gym mirror pics on his highlights. Just a blank profile and a faceless display picture that told her absolutely jack shit.
āYouāre fucking with me, right?ā she muttered. āOne picture on Tinder and you think thatās enough?ā Her finger scrolling like the app might suddenly take pity on her.
Three weeks of hearing his voice. Knowing his humour. The way he paused before saying her name. And she still only had that one image of him. Her thumb hesitated. Then moved before she could chicken out.
iamyn: can i say something without u making fun of me
His reply came fast.
mnijungkook: i dont make fun of you kitten
mnijungkook: i tease
She rolled her eyes, smiling.
iamyn: wtv
iamyn: i tried stalking ur insta and ure literally a fucking ghost
mnijungkook: and that bothers you?
iamyn: i realized ive only ever seen that one pic of u
iamyn: from tinder
iamyn: and i kinda wanna see more of u
iamyn: is that allowed, handsome ceo?
The typing bubble blinked once. Then disappeared. Y/N stared at the screen.
āā¦hello?ā she muttered, thumb hovering uselessly like that might summon him back.
Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Thenā Her phone and laptop buzzed. She jumped.
Incoming FaceTime ā Jungkook
āOhāfuckāā she whispered, pushing herself upright so fast she dropped the phone. She caught her mirror image in the screen of her laptopāmessy hair, bare face, sweater slipping off one shoulder.
Too late to care. She clicked answer. And there he was.
Familiar, but different. Real. Moving. Breathing. Up close, he was worse. Better. Sharp jaw, dark eyes that felt like they were touching her through the big screen.
Jungkook was at work. The background was dim, all glass and steel, the city lights bleeding through the windows behind him. His suit jacket was gone, white dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows where Y/n could take a peak at his tattoo sleeve. Tie loosened like heād been strangled by responsibility all day. His hair was slightly messy, like heād run his hands through it one too many times. He lookedā¦tired. Still unfairly handsome though. But real in a different way.
For a second, he didnāt speakājust looked at her through the screen with his back leaned against his chair and gazing down at her, like he needed to confirm she was actually there.
āWell,ā he said, voice low, amused. āYou wanted more, kitten.ā His lips curled.
Her heart did something stupid.
āOh my god,ā she breathed, then laughed quietly. āYouāre actuallyā¦insane.ā
His smile came slow. Intentional. āAnd you,ā Jungkook said, eyes dragging over her face and grazing his chin with his fingers he was committing it to memory, ālook even better than I imagined, baby.ā
Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading fast and reckless. Yeah heād seen her pictures on Instagram. But in real time, she looked unbelievably attractive in his eyes.
Three weeks of words. Finally given depth. And suddenly, it wasnāt just voices or texts anymore.
āWhat are you up to, baby?ā he asked, voice already warm with amusement. āOther thanāyou knowāthinking about how good I look.ā
Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling anyway. On her screen, Jungkook was sunk into his office chair like heād been welded to it for the past twelve hours. One arm rested lazily on the armrest, the other tapping absently against the edge of his desk, fingers inked and restless. And still, his eyes stayed on her, steady and unhurried, like he wasnāt sitting in the middle of a goddamn officeālike she was the only thing worth focusing on.
āUhā¦ I was in the middle of someā¦last-minute editing,ā she said, glancing at the time glowing accusingly in the corner of her laptop. āI need to upload tonight or my comments will riot.ā Her brow bounced on āriotā.
Jungkook hummed. āAndā¦Iām not stealing your time, am I?ā
She shook her head, smiling to herself. āNever,ā she murmured. She hadnāt meant for him to hear it. The mic did anyway.
His lips curved instantly, slow and satisfied. āCute,ā he said. āYouāre terrible at pretending you donāt like me.ā
She scoffed. āExcuse you. Youāre the one who called.ā
āHmm,ā he admitted easily. āAnd Iām glad I did.ā
She tilted her head. āOh yeah?ā
Jungkookās smirk deepened, the kind that made the muscles in his forearm flex as he adjusted his positionāshe tracked the movement without meaning to. His fingers drummed lazily against the armrest, his voice dropping into that low, rough register that always made her pussy tighten.
āHell yeah. We couldā¦start facetiming and Iād get to see you cum for me in real time, kitten.ā His thumb brushed over his lower lip, slow, deliberate. āWatch your mouth drop when you realize Iām not gonna let you stop.ā
Y/Nās breath hitched. God, the way he says shit like thatālike it was already decided, like she wasnāt possibly halfway across the fucking world but right there in his office, pinned under that look. Her fingers tightened around her nothing.
āBold of you to assume Iād want to stop.ā
His laugh was dark, pleased. āProve it.ā
The dare hung between them, thick enough she could almost taste it. She bit her lip, considering. The editing could waitāher subscribers could deal with one night of her being distracted.
But Jungkook? He wasnāt asking. He was waiting, that lazy, knowing glint in his eyes like he already knew sheād cave.
She exhaled, slow. āYouāre lucky I like you.ā
His grin was all teeth. āI know.ā
She rolled her eyesābut her hand was already making its way down her white cotton shorts.
āLet me see you touch yourself, baby.ā Jungkookās voice was lower than sheād ever heard, the words curling around her like smoke. It wasnāt a request. It was a command wrapped in velvet.
She exhaled shakily, fingers curling under the waistband of her shortsāhis gaze pinned her in place, heavy and possessive. The fabric slid down her thighs, pooling at her knees before she kicked them off entirely. The bed dipped under her palms as she braced herself back, thighs falling open deliberately, slow, just to watch his pupils dilate. The damp lace clinging to her was obscene, the fabric sheer enough he could see the dark flush of her skin beneath, the way she was already dripping through the material.
āFuck,ā he breathed, leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees like he could physically will himself closer.
āLook at thatāalready soaked for me. Didnāt even need to touch you.ā His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his voice roughening. āSuch a greedy fucking slut, arenāt you? My slut.ā
Heat coiled low in her belly, sharp and electricāthe degradation slid under her skin like liquid fire. She arched slightly, pressing her hips up, and his groan was ragged.
His fingers flexed around nothing, jaw tight. āLike knowing youād spread yourself open for me anywhere I fucking asked. Wouldnāt you?ā His voice dropped, husky with intent. āWouldnāt even think twice before getting on your knees, begging me to ruin you.ā
She whimperedācouldnāt help itāand his smirk was predatory.
āGo on,ā he murmured. āShow me how bad you want it.ā
Her fingers trembled as they slipped under the lace, dragging the fabric aside to expose the swollen, glistening heat of her. The air was cool against her oversensitive skin, but it barely registeredānot when he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole.
āNo. Do it through your panties, kitten.ā Jungkookās voice was steel wrapped in velvet, the kind that made her breath hitch before sheād even processed the words.
āWant to see those pretty fingers soak through the lace first,ā he murmured, tilting his head. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. āShow me how desperate you get.ā
She whimpered, high and involuntary, as she obeyedāsliding her fingers over the damp fabric instead, pressing down where she needed it most.
The friction was deliciously insufficient, the lace rubbing raw against her oversensitive clit. Her back arched off the bed, a broken moan tumbling from her lips when Jungkookās gaze darkened, his pupils swallowing the honey-brown of his irises.
āFuckālook at you,ā he growled, voice rough with restraint. His thumb dragged over his lower lip like he wanted to taste her. āAlready fucking yourself through your panties like a slut. Youād do this anywhere, wouldnāt you? In my office? In the back of my car?ā
The degradation pooled hot in her stomach, spreading like ink in water. Her fingers moved faster, the fabric growing slicker.
āY-yours,ā she gasped, hips jerking. āOnlyāahāyoursāā
Jungkook exhaled sharply, his free hand gripping his cock through his dress pants, the fabric straining obscenely.
āGod, youāre pathetic,ā he breathed, but his voice was thick with worship. His smirk was cruel, beautiful. āImagine if I were thereābending you over my desk, tearing these fucking panties off with my teethāā
She cried out, her fingers stuttering as the tension coiled tighter. The lace was soaked, clinging to her skin, and Jungkookās groan was ragged.
āThatās itāruin them,ā he urged, leaning closer to the screen. His breath hitched when her hips lifted off the bed, chasing her own touch. āFuck, youāre close. I can see itāyour thighs shaking, that pretty mouth falling openāā
She nodded frantically, her moans dissolving into whimpers. The heat was unbearable, the pressureā
āStop.ā
Her fingers froze. What the hell was he thinking? She was super close. And he wanted her to stop Her entire body trembled on the edge, suspended. Jungkookās smile was feral.
āHands off,ā he ordered softly. āNow.ā
She whimpered in protest, but he tsked, dragging a hand through his hair.
āUh-uh. You donāt get to cum until I say so,ā he murmured. His gaze dropped to where her thighs clenched around nothing.
Her breath came in shallow pants. The silence stretchedābroken only by the quiet creak of his chair as he leaned back, waiting. And then she cracked.
āPlease.ā The word slipped out before she could swallow it backābroken and needy, her voice barely louder than the rustle of sheets as she shifted. Jungkookās grin was wicked, his fingers tapping against his thigh like heād already won.
āPlease what, baby?ā he drawled, tilting his head. The office lights caught the sharp angle of his jaw, the sweat-slicked column of his throat where his Adamās apple bobbed. āUse your words. Tell me what you want.ā
Her cheeks burned. The lace was glued to her skin with how wet she was, the fabric twisted and useless between her thighs.
āWantāwanna cum,ā she admitted, voice cracking. The admission scraped her throat raw, humiliation curling hot in her belly when his eyes darkened.
āTake them off.ā His command was low, roughāthe kind that made her pulse stutter. āThose fucking panties. Now.ā
Her fingers trembled as she hooked them under the soaked lace, peeling them down her legs with a wet sound that made his nostrils flare. The cool air kissed her bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gazeāheavy, possessive, tracing every inch of her like she was his to ruin.
āGood girl,ā he murmured, though the praise was edged with something darker. āNow show me how empty you are without me. Fuck yourself open, slut. Let me see.ā
She whimpered, high and broken, as she dragged two fingers through her slick, spreading herself for him. The first press inside was electricāher back arching off the bed, a moan tearing from her lips as she curled her fingers just to watch his jaw tighten.
āFuck, look at you,ā Jungkook growled, his own hand palming his cock through his pants, the fabric straining. āTaking your fingers so easyālike you were made for it. Made for me.ā His tongue swiped over his lower lip, hungry. āBet youād take my cock even better, wouldnāt you? Stretch you so fucking wide, hear you cryāā
She nodded frantically, her hips rocking against her hand, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet room. āYesāyes, pleaseāā
āSuch a desperate little thing,ā he crooned, his voice thick with mock pity. His free hand gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles white. āCanāt even wait for me to fuck you properly. Pathetic.ā The degradation dripped like honey, sickly sweet and addictive. Her fingers moved faster, her thighs shaking.
āNot yet.ā His snarl froze her in place. āYou cum when I say.ā
She sobbed, her body trembling on the edge, her fingers still buried inside herselfāwaiting, aching, suspended by nothing but the ragged command in his voice.
Jungkook's control snapped like a frayed wire. With a sharp inhale, his belt buckle clattered against the desk as he wrenched it open, his dress pants shoved down just enough to free his cockāthick and flushed, already slick at the tip. The slap of flesh against his rumpled blouse echoed through the speakers, the sound lewd and undeniable.
Y/Nās thighs twitched open wider, her gaze dragging down shamelessly to watch him fist himself in rough, punishing strokes, his knuckles white with restraint.
"Fuckālook at you," Jungkook snarled, his hips jerking into his grip. His head slammed back against the leather chair, tendons in his neck straining as he panted. "Spreading yourself openāmy personal little whore." His voice was wrecked, syllables slurring with pleasure.
"You see this?" He squeezed the base of his cock, veins prominent under his grip, and her mouth watered. "All yours. Only yours. But you donāt get to cum until I sayāargh just wait till Iām fucking buried inside you for real, slut."
The wet sounds from both sides of the screens were obsceneāher fingers plunging, his fist pumping, the shared rhythm filthy and syncopated. Jungkookās breath hitched when she crooked her fingers just right, her moan dissolving into a whimper.
"PleaseāJungkook, I canātā"
"Watch me," he demanded while gazing into his computer, his thumb smearing pre-cum over his cockhead, his hips canting up into his touch.
"Watch how fucking hard you make me. How bad I want to ruin you." His laugh was ragged, almost pained. "God, youāre drippingāfuck, I can hear it. Thatās my good kitten, taking it so well. But youāre not my good kitten right now, are you? Youāre my desperate, fucking slut."
She shook her head frantically, her thighs trembling as the coil inside her wound tighter. Jungkookās strokes turned brutal, his voice cracking.
āIām close, Jungkook.ā The words tumbled out of her in a broken whimper, her fingers twisting inside herself, thighs shaking violently. The air smelled like salt and sweat and the synthetic raspberry of her laptop charger overheating beside her.
Jungkookās breath hitchedāsharp, audibleāhis fist tightening around his cock, knuckles white.
āFuckingālook at you,ā he snarled, voice shredded. His hips jerked into his grip, the wet slap of skin against skin punching through the speakers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes locked on hers through the screen.
The coil in her stomach tightenedātoo muchābut he wasnāt letting her break yet.
āP-pleaseā!ā
āBeg.ā The word cracked like a whip. Jungkookās free hand gripped the edge of his desk, tendons standing out in his forearm. His cock glistened under the dim office lights, flushed and leaking, veins straining against skin.
āBeg me to let you cum. Fucking needy slut.ā
She choked on air. āPleaseālet me cum, please, IāI canātāJungkookāahh!ā
His laugh was dark, wrecked. āGod, youāre dirty.ā He dragged his thumb over the head of his cock, smearing pre-cum down the length. āLook at youādripping for me, whimpering for me. My slut. Mine.ā His voice dropped to a growl at his screen.
āCum for me, baby.ā
The permission snapped something inside her. Her back arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from her throat as pleasure ripped through her. White, hot, relentless, her fingers still buried inside her as she pulsed around them. Jungkookās groan was raw, his strokes turning punishing.
āFuckāfuck, babyāā His hips stuttered, his breath coming in ragged bursts. āCum for me, kitten. Cum all over your fingers like the filthy little whore you are.ā
She sobbed, oversensitive and shaking, her thighs clamped around her own wrist as the aftershocks rolled through her. Jungkookās pace faltered, his head slamming back against the chair.
āYnāā Her name was a prayer, a curse, his voice splintering. āGonnaāfuckāā
The sound he made when he came was animalāa guttural groan, his cock jerking in his fist as he painted stripes across his stomach, his dress shirt rucked up to his chest. His thighs trembled, his breath coming in harsh pants. Silence. Thenā
āHoly shitā¦ā he muttered, voice wrecked. His fingers twitched where they lay limp on his stomach, sticky with cum. āYouāre insane.ā
She laughed, breathless and weak, her body still thrumming. āTakes one to know one.ā
Jungkookās smirk was lazy, satisfied. āYeah,ā he agreed, dragging a hand down his face. āBut you love it.ā
ā®ļøāøļøāļø
2AM was a stupid hour to be awake. The city outside Jungkookās penthouse was still glowing like it didnāt know how to sleepāglass buildings blinking, traffic humming faintly, Seoul stretching on like an endless exhale.
Inside, though, it was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you hear your own thoughts a little too clearly.
Jungkook sat in the comfort of his bed, hair damp from a shower he didnāt need, dressed in nothing but loose sweatpants, entire upper body exposed to the cold. The lights were low, the expensive kind of warm, but none of it mattered.
Because his phone was in his hand. And her face was on the screen.
Y/Nās Coachella vlog.
He didnāt even remember clicking it. One second he was checking sales statistics, the next he was watching her laugh into the camera like she wasnāt the most distracting fucking person heād ever come across.
The video was shaky, chaotic, full of neon and bass and her friends screaming in the background. And there she was. Hair down, lip gloss catching the festival lights, eyes bright like she belonged in every frame she stepped into.
āOkay, guys,ā her voice came through the speaker, cheerful and teasing. āDay one. Iām already sweating like crazy. Iām fucking hot!ā
Jungkook huffed a quiet laugh.
āOh you have no idea,ā he muttered to himself.
His thumb hovered over the screen, like he could touch her through it.
Stupid.
Pathetic.
He kept watching anyway.
She spun the camera toward the stage, then back to herself, grinning. āI swear, Coachella is literally a fever dream.ā Her voiced vibrated in his hands under the phone.
Jungkookās jaw tightened.
A fever dream.
Yeah. That was one way to put it. Because sheād somehow crept into his life the same wayāunexpected, unreal, addictive.
A little more than a month ago she was a match on Tinder. Now she wasā¦this. A presence. A habit. A fucking problem.
Jungkookās thumb tapped the screen, rewinding the video without meaning to, watching her lips form the words againāIām fucking hotāand holy shit, she wasnāt lying.
The cream top was barely a suggestion of fabric, thin straps struggling against the weight of her tits, the swell of them pressing dangerously against the hem like they might spill over any second. Her skirtāif you could even call it thatāwas a scrap of white lace riding high on her thighs, riding higher when she danced, and fuck, he could see the shadow where her ass met skin, could imagine the heat of her under his palms, the way sheād gasp if he dragged her back against him right there in the crowd.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, shifting against the sheets, the rough fabric of his sweats doing nothing to hide the way his cock was thickening, straining against the waistband. He could see the outline of it, the way the fabric tented obscenely, and he didnāt even bother adjusting, just let it happen, let his hand drift lower, pressing the heel of his palm against himself with a low groan.
The video kept playingāher laughter, her hips swaying to the bass, the way she licked her lips when she turned to the cameraāand Jungkookās jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around his phone.
"Holy fuck, kitten," he breathed, voice rough, "look what youāve done to me." His cock twitched at the sound of his own voice, at the thought of her hearing it, of her knowing exactly what she did to him.
He wanted to mark her. Wanted to press his mouth to the smooth expanse of her stomach, to bite at the soft skin just above her waistband, to leave bruises where the fabric didnāt cover. Wanted to ruin her, just a little, just enough that sheād remember him when she got home, when she peeled that skirt off and saw the marks heād left.
But she wasnāt here. She was there, laughing under desert stars, and he was here, hard and aching and fucking pathetic. And yetāhe couldnāt stop watching.
Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers twitching against his phone.
Fuck it.
He shoved the sweats down just enough for his cock to spring free, already leaking against his stomach, the tip flushed and angry.
"Fuck," he muttered, wrapping his hand around himself in one rough stroke, his hips jerking up into his own grip.
The video kept playingāY/N laughing, her hips rolling to some beat he couldnāt hearāand he let his head fall back against the pillows with a groan, his grip tightening.
"Look at you," he gritted out, thumb swiping over the head of his cock, smearing precome down the shaft. "Dancing like you donāt know what the fuck youāre doing to me." His breath hitched as she turned toward the camera again, lips parted, sweat glistening at the hollow of her throat. He could almost taste itāsalt and heat and her. His strokes turned erratic, his thighs tensing.
"Fuck, kitten, Iād ruin you right there in the crowd. Let everyone see how fucking pretty you look when you come."
A whimper tore from his throat as he imagined itāher back pressed against his chest, his hand slipping under that pathetic excuse for a skirt, fingers dragging through slick heat. The video blurred at the edges of his vision, his focus narrowing to the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the way her collarbones caught the light. "Christ," he gasped, his hips stuttering.
"Justājust like that, fuckā"
His phone slipped from his grip, clattering onto the sheets beside him, but it didnāt matter. The image of her was burned into his skullāthe way she moved, the sound of her voice, the fucking smell of her if heād been there, sweat and sunscreen and something sweet underneath. He was close, so fucking close, his balls drawing up tight, his abs flexing with every ragged breath.
"Y/N," he choked out, her name mangled between his teeth, "gonnaāfuckā"
The orgasm ripped through him like a live wire, his back arching off the bed, his cum streaking hot across his stomach. His hand slowed but didnāt stop, milking himself through the aftershocks, his hips twitching helplessly.
The video kept playing, Y/Nās laughter muffled now under the rush of blood in his ears, her voice distant, like she was already slipping away.
Jungkook collapsed against the pillows, his chest heaving, his skin tacky with sweat. He blinked up at the ceiling, the high fading too fast, leaving him hollow.
Fuck. Heād cum, but it wasnāt enough. It never was. Not when all he had was a fucking screen.
His fingers twitched toward his phone before he could think better of it, thumb jamming the call button before he could talk himself out of it. The line rang once, twice, thrice his pulse hammering in his throat.
What the fuck was he doing? She was probably asleep, probablyā
The screen flickered to life, but it wasnāt her face. Just darkness, the faint outline of her nose, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek.
"Jungkookā¦?" Her voice was thick with sleep, slurred at the edges.
He grinned, breathless, his free hand dragging through the mess on his stomach.
"Hey, kitten. Did I wake you?"
Y/N hummed, nuzzling deeper into her pillow, but thenāher eyes cracked open, squinting at the screen. The faint glow lit up the confusion on her face, then the dawning realization as she took in his heaving chest, the sweat still drying on his collarbones.
"Kook?" Her voice sharpened. "K-Kookādid you just ā¦wank?"
He laughed, low and unrepentant, his tattooed arm flexing as he tucked it behind his head.
"Yeah. To you, actually." His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "I swear youāre begging me to slam my dick into you in your Coachella vlog."
Her mouth fell open, but he didnāt miss the way her thighs shifted under the sheets. "You asshole," she hissed, but it lacked heat. "Itāsāgod, itās coming to three AM."
Y/N groaned, rubbing her face with one hand, the other gripping her phone like she might strangle him through the screen.
"Because I thought it was an emergency, you fucking gremlin."
"Emergency," Jungkook repeated, rolling the word around his tongue like it was candy. "Yeah. Iād say my dick qualifies." He stretched lazily, muscles flexing under the dim light, his sweatpants still pooled low on his hips, his stomach still streaked with his own cum.
Y/N groaned again, louder this time, throwing an arm over her face like she could physically block him out.
"Jesus Christ, youāre insufferable." But her voice was thick with something elseāsomething that made Jungkookās smirk widen.
"Insufferably hot," he corrected, dragging a finger through the mess on his stomach, holding it up to the screen like she could taste it. "Admit it."
She peeked from under her arm, her nose scrunched in disgustāor what she wanted him to think was disgust. "Youāre disgusting."
"Disgustingly into you," he shot back, grinning when she huffed.
"What do you need, handsome?" she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Jungkook flashed a tired smirk, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
"Iām needy."
She snorted. "When are you not?"
He barked out a laugh, shoulders shaking. "Iām serious, baby." His voice dropped, rough around the edges. A beat.
"I wanna see you."
Y/N blinked.
"Whatā¦?"
"I wanna see you, Y/N," he repeated, slower this time, softer.
Her lips parted, her fingers tightening around her phone. "Waitāyou mean likeā¦meet up? Face to face?"
Jungkook hummed, nodding. "Yeah." His thumb brushed over his bottom lip, his gaze darkening. "Not only do I wanna actually feel your walls clench around my dick. I wanna take you out."
Y/N went completely blank. Not in the hot, flustered way she was used toāthis was different. This was the kind of speechless that sat heavy in her chest, like someone had pressed pause on her brain.
She knew what this was supposed to be. Fun. Filthy. Easy. A little cyber sex, some teasing, some late-night messages that didnāt mean anything past the screen.
Prolonged, sure. Addictive, yeah. Butā¦ this? She never expected Jungkook to say something that sounded almost like a confession. Like he was actually considering showing up. Like he wasnāt just Mr. Playboy behind a phone, but a real man with real intention.
And it hit her all at onceāsharp and stupid and terrifying. Because she could handle lust. She wasnāt sure she could handle whatever the fuck this was.
"Baby?" Jungkook called, his voice gentler now, a crack in his usual cockiness.
She jolted, blinking rapidly. "Youāyou really wanna meet?"
He nodded again, slower this time, his smirk fading into something earnest. "Yeah."
Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks flushing under the glow of her screen. "Andā¦you wanna take me out? Likeā¦on a date?"
Jungkookās chest tightened.
Fuck. When she puts it like thatāso small, so hesitantāit hit him like a punch to the gut. Because yes, obviously, but also no, not just that. He wanted everything. The dates, the sex, the stupid late-night convos where she falls asleep mid-sentence. He wanted her sleepy voice in his ear and her legs over his shoulders and her fucking laundry in his hamper.
But he couldnāt say that. Not yet. So he shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
"Sure. Or I could just bend you over the nearest surface. Whatever floats your boat."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Youāre ridiculous." She muttered, looking away.
"And youāre stalling."
Y/N exhaled sharply, her fingers tapping against her phone case.
"Itās justā" She hesitated, her throat working. "Weāve never evenāI mean, what if itās weird?"
Jungkookās chest ached. Because fuck, he got it. The fear. The what-ifs. The possibility that whatever crackling between them through screens might fizzle out in person. Butā
"Then weāll be weird together," he said, his voice rough. "And if it sucks, weāll never speak of it again. Or we canāyou knowābe the adults we are andā¦talk it out."
She huffed a laugh, her shoulders relaxing. "Thatāsā¦weirdly reassuring."
Jungkook grinned, relief flooding his veins. "So? You in?"
Y/N hesitated for one more heartbeatāthen nodded.
"Yeah. Okay. Iām in."
His stomach swooped.
Fuck yes.
"Good." He dragged a hand through his hair, his smirk returning full force. "Now hang up so I can jerk off to the thought of you regretting this decision."
Y/Nās laughter burst out of her, bright and startled. "Goodnight, Kook."
"Sweet dreams, kitten."
The call ended, the screen going black. Jungkook tossed his phone onto the bed, running a hand down his face.
Fuck.
He was fucked.
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Y/N almost didnāt go.
Not because she didnāt want to.
Because she wanted to too much.
The kind of want that made her overthink her outfit three times, made her spray perfume like it could mask the fact she was fucking nervous, made her stare at herself in the mirror and mutter, āGet a grip. Youāve hooked up with strangers before.ā
Yeah. But none of them had been Jungkook.
None of them had lived in her phone for weeks, in her late nights, in that stupid space between lust and something dangerously close to affection.
Her phone buzzed.
mnijungkook: Iām here.
Two words, and her stomach dropped like she was on a rollercoaster.
She stepped outside. The air was cold, biting at her bare legs, neon from the streetlights painting everything slightly unreal.
Then she saw him. Leaning against a black car like he had all the time in the world. Hands in his pockets. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. That same look ā the one that always made her feel like he was smiling at a secret.
His eyes found her instantly. And his face shifted. Not smug. Not teasing. Justā¦real.
āHey,ā he said, voice lower than any speaker could ever capture.
Y/N swallowed.
āOh my god,ā she blurted before she could stop herself. āYouāre actually real. Andā¦way more handsome in person.ā
His lips curved. āSo are you, kitten.ā
And suddenly the screen wasnāt there anymore. No pixels. No distance. No mute button. Just him.
His gaze swept over her, not in a cheap wayānot like a man checking off a listābut like he was actually taking her in. Like he wanted to memorize her.
āPretty as always,ā Jungkook murmured, voice quieter now, almost careful.
Y/nās eyes gleamed at his compliment before gazing back up at him. That usual glint Jungkook would always catch on his screen. The butterflies heād get when she looked at him through FaceTime? Yeah. This was worse. This was full-body. This was holy shit.
For a second, she just stood there like an idiot, heart kicking against her ribs, until Jungkook lifted his hand. Palm open and patient. A gentleman, somehow, despite being an āinternational playboyā.
āShall we?ā he asked, chin tipping toward the car.
Y/N let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. āGod, youāre insane,ā she muttered, mostly to herself.
Then she slid her hand into his. His warmth wrapped around her instantly, grounding and intimate all at once. And Jungkook didnāt squeeze too hard.
Just enough to remind herāHe was real. And this was happening.
He guided her toward the passenger seat, and Y/N followed, still trying to convince herself her heart wasnāt about to beat straight out of her chest.
The car smelled like leather and expensive cologne, which was fucking unfair because Jungkook already looked like a goddamn crime, and now he smelled like one too.
The engine purred to life, and Seoulās neon glow blurred past the windows as they merged into traffic. Silence stretchedāthick and loadedāuntil Jungkook exhaled sharply, fingers tapping the wheel.
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It took at least half an hour to reach Jungkookās penthouse. Y/N wasnāt sure if it was the silence or the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheelātense, impatientāthat made the ride feel longer than it was.
The elevator ride up was worse. Close quarters. His cologne wrapped around her like a goddamn trap. And that smirk? Yeah, she wanted to bite it off his face. But when the doors slid open and she stepped into his penthouse, she blinked.
The dining table was empty. No plates. No candles. No stupid single rose standing upright like a hostage in a glass vase. Just polished wood reflecting the overhead lightsāand her own expectations, sitting there like an idiot.
Not that sheād been waiting for some over-the-top, five-star bullshit. She wasnāt that kind of woman. She didnāt need money waved in her face to feel impressed.
Still. Jungkook had soundedā¦ different on the phone. Focused. Almost careful. Like this date actually mattered to him, like heād thought it through instead of saying it on a whim between texts and dirty jokes.
So yeah. The emptiness threw her off more than she wanted to admit.
āUh,ā she said eloquently, turning to Jungkook. āDid your āfive-star dateā plans get lost in translation, orāā
Jungkook didnāt answer. He just reached for her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, fingers closing around hers, warm and firm, and started pulling her toward the stairs.
āPatience, kitten,ā he said over his shoulder. āNot everythingās about instant gratification.ā
āSays the man who sends me a dick pics at two am,ā she muttered, but let him pull her up the steps anyway.
His laugh was quiet, almost surprised, like he couldnāt believe sheād actually said it out loud in person.
Then, the rooftop opened up, and it hit her so fast she actually stopped for half a second. Not because it was some fairytale bullshit. Because it was thoughtful.
Candlelight flickered inside glass jars, scattered low across a wide mat beneath the night sky. Rose petals were tossed around in a way that looked deliberately careless, like someone had tried not to make it too perfect and failed anyway. And the foodāDamn. Steak seared beautifully, the kind of plating that screamed expensive without trying. Wine breathing beside it, dark and serious. Andā
āKimchi?ā Y/Nās eyebrow lifted before she could stop herself. āSeriously?ā
Jungkook grinned, all teeth. āGotta keep it authentic.ā His hand slid to the small of her back, guiding her forward with an ease that made her stomach flip.
āAnd before you askāno, I didnāt cook any of it. The perks of having a personal chef on retainer.ā
āYouāre ridiculous,ā she said, but her chest did something stupid and warm.
āYeah.ā His voice dipped, rougher now, less teasing. āBut you donāt hate it.ā
It wasnāt pixels anymore. It was real. And she was so, so screwed.
Y/N and Jungkook sat close enough that their knees brushed every now and then, the kind of accidental contact that stopped feeling accidental after the third time.
The wind was cool, slipping under her jacket, but Jungkook barely noticed itāher perfume cut through everything. Soft and sweet.
He shifted, bending one leg up and resting his arm against it as he reached for the bottle. The wine was expensiveādeep red, something he loved enough to save for special occasions, which said more than he wanted it to. He poured carefully, wrist steady, like he wasnāt hyper-aware of her watching him.
Y/N sat with her legs folded to the side, one arm braced behind her, posture relaxed but her fingers fidgeting just enough to give her away. When he handed her the glass, their fingers brushed. Brief. Electric. Stupid.
They raised their glasses.
āCheers toā¦ā Jungkook started, then stalled, his eyes catching hers and holding. Too long. Long enough for his brain to short-circuit and every smooth line heād rehearsed to vanish. He cleared his throat, lips twitching. āFinally making it out from the screen.ā
Y/N giggled, the sound light and real, and Godāhe felt it in his chest.
āAnd,ā she added, tilting her head slightly, voice careful but honest, ācheers toā¦ a new possible relationship.ā
The word relationship landed between them like something fragile.
Jungkook didnāt move right away. His gaze stayed on her, unreadable for half a second too long, and her stomach dropped.
Fuck. Did I go too far?
The thought barely finished forming before he let out a quiet laughāsoft, genuine, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and took all the edge out of the moment. He leaned in just enough to clink his glass against hers.
āCheers to that,ā he murmured.
They drank. The wine was cold and sharp as it slid down, warming on the way, settling low in their stomachs. Y/N exhaled without realizing sheād been holding her breath. Jungkook licked his lips, eyes flicking back to her again, slower this time.
Y/Nās brows lifted once, just enough to make him notice. āSoā¦why did you want to take me out on a date?ā Her voice was casual, but the edge of curiosityāmaybe even a little challengeārippled through it.
Jungkook tilted his head, studying her as if weighing the answer. His thumb traced lazy circles on the stem of his glass, the only movement betraying the way his chest had suddenly gone tight.
āHm,ā he murmured, voice low, almost teasing. āDo I have to have a reason, kitten? Canāt I justā¦want to?ā
Y/N smirked, but the smirk didnāt hide the quick beat of her heart. She picked up her steak knife, cutting a bite-sized piece and rolling it on her fork.
āWant toā¦what? Impress me? Orā¦entrap me in some luxurious penthouse trap?ā
He laughed, quiet but warm, like a rumble vibrating straight through her.
āA little of both,ā he admitted, eyes flicking to hers. He speared a piece of steak, chewing slowly as if savoring more than the flavor. āBut mostlyā¦because I got tired of having the screen in the way of your real face and realizing I wanted it in front of me. Realā¦Here. Right now.ā
Her chest warmed, a little too fast, and she pressed the stem of her glass to her lips to hide the way her cheeks were creeping pink. She took a slow bite, trying to act casual, but her fingers trembled slightly around the fork.
āI know I am,ā he said, smirking. Another bite, another slow chew, his eyes never leaving hers. But then his gaze softened, darker edges melting into something justā¦real.
āI wanted to see ifā¦thisāāhe gestured between them with a fork, just slightly, āāwasnāt just fun through a screen. I wanted to see if it felt likeā¦me and you. In real life.ā
Y/N blinked, the words settling in slower than she expected. Her chest fluttered, nerves and excitement twisting together in a messy, delicious knot. She cut another piece of steak, taking her time, pretending to chew deliberately.
āWellā¦fuck,ā she whispered, shaking her head with a laugh. āYouāre bold. Iāll give you that.ā
āAnd youāreā¦stubborn,ā he countered, his grin twitching like he knew exactly the effect he had on her. He pushed a piece of steak onto his fork, eating it as he leaned back on his elbows, savoring her reaction.
āBut I like it. A lot.ā
She glanced down at her plate, the wine catching the light, her stomach doing stupid flips. She chewed thoughtfully before answering,
āOkayā¦so thatās your reason.ā
āMhmā he hummed, retreating from leaning back on his elbows, letting the night air hit against his face. He cut another bite of steak, but his eyes stayed on hers.
āBut the rest isā¦this. You. Me. Tonight. Fuckingā¦whatever the hell this is going to be.ā
Her lips twitched into a grin she didnāt fight. She speared another bite, letting it linger on her tongue before speaking.
āSure. But only because I like being bribed.ā
āAnd Iāll happily keep bribing you, kitten,ā he murmured, voice low, almost a growl.
He leaned closer just slightly, letting her feel the heat radiating off him, and she felt it all the way down to her stomach. Jungkook leaned back slightly, swirling the wine in his glass.
āBut I do alsoā¦ā His voice softened, low and deliberate, āā¦wanna know you. Not just know what gets you wet or screaming my name.ā
Y/N snorted, a little laugh escaping before she could stop it. āOh, so youāre not just a horny asshole after all?ā
He grinned, teeth flashing, but didnāt let the humor entirely mask the sincerity in his eyes. āIām still a horny asshole, kitten,ā he said, voice dropping a notch, ābutā¦thatās only part of it. I wanna know Y/N. The real stuff.ā She blinked, caught off guard by the honesty threading through his words.
He leaned forward a little, one elbow resting on his knees while the other palm flat on the mat, and the soft glow of the rooftop lights caught the angles of his face. His gaze was sharp, intent, like he was memorizing her.
āWhat music makes you sing in the shower. How long you take in the shower. What you crave when your period hits you like a goddamn hurricane.ā
Y/N choked on a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. āJesus Christ, Kookā¦youāreā¦youāre really trying to embarrass me right now.ā
āNope,ā he said, grinning wider. āIām genuinely curious. Andā¦fuck, I mean it. I donāt just want the show through a screen. I want the real, messy, human you. The you I canāt get through a screen.ā
Her chest tightened in that stupid, fluttery way it did whenever he said things like that. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to act casual, all the while feeling the ridiculous pull in her stomach, her pulse spiking.
āAnd seriouslyā¦this?āāhe gestured between themāāfeels different. Not just fun or wild. I wantā¦more. Even if Iām an asshole about it half the time.ā
Y/N shook her head, letting out a quiet, incredulous laugh. āYouāre ridiculous,ā she said again, but her voice was warm, softer than before. She took a slow bite of her steak, letting the taste anchor her while she tried to process the sudden gravity in his words.
āYeah. But I think you like it.ā He leaned back, stretching his arm across the mat, letting the tips of his fingers brush hers.
Her lips twitched into a grin, but it faltered as he leaned closer, just a fraction, enough that the space between them shrank to inches. Her breath hitched, and she realized she could count the faint imperfections along his jaw, a scar at his cheek, see the way his dark lashes grazed the tops of his cheeks.
Jungkookās eyes were locked on hers, intense, hypnotic, like he was memorizing every flicker of expression, every subtle twitch. The world around themāthe candles, the city, the wine, the steakāfaded until all that existed was the heat radiating between their bodies.
āAre youā¦fucking with meā¦?ā Y/N whispered, her voice soft but serious, not teasing at all. Her eyes searched his, pure curiosity, unguarded. She didnāt want games. Not tonight. Not with him.
Jungkook didnāt break eye contact. Didnāt even blink for a beat. He just shook his head slowly.
āLet me court you, Y/Nā¦ā His voice dropped to a whisper, low and rough, vibrating against her skin even though it was just sound.
His gaze dipped briefly, raking over her full lips, then snapped back to her eyes, dark and unwavering.
āI want toā¦ā He swallowed hard, the words heavy but deliberate. āā¦I want to learnā¦to love you.ā
The L-word hit her like a punch, sudden and unexpected, burning hot in her chest. She blinked, her fingers tightening against her wine glass like she needed something solid to hold onto. Her stomach churned, not from the wine, not from the food, but from the raw, unapologetic intensity of him.
Jungkookās own insides were doing gymnastics, his heartbeat loud in his ears, stomach knotting and twistingānot from the meal but from the nerve-wracking exposure of saying it. He wanted to hide his face behind his hands, to mask the vulnerability, but he couldnāt. Not now. Not when she was right there.
Then, before he could retreat, before he could even think about how exposed he felt, Y/N moved. Fast and sure. Her lips smashed against his. No hesitation. No questions. Just connection.
Jungkook froze for a split secondāsurprised, stunnedābut the second her lips pressed to his, the world shifted. The city lights, the wine, the rooftop, all the careful planningāthey vanished. There was only her, soft and warm and real, and him, desperate not to let her go.
His hands went to her waist instinctively, fingers digging in lightly as if to anchor himself in the moment. Her arms curled around his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below his ear as she pressed closer, and every nerve in his body screamed that he wanted more.
The kiss wasnāt tentative nor was it polite. It was messy, hungry, claiming. And for the first time since theyād met in pixels and whispers, everythingāthe teasing, the cyber nights, the late-night messagesācollapsed into a single, undeniable truth: this was real life.
Y/N shifted carefully, her thigh brushing against Jungkookās hip as she swung her leg over him, mindful of the half-empty wine glasses still precariously balanced on the table. The movement was slow, deliberateālike she was testing the weight of this moment between them.
Jungkook adjusted beneath her, his hands sliding up the curve of her back, fingers tracing the dip of her waist before gripping tighter, pulling her flush against him. She arched slightly, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch.
"Fuck," he muttered, the word rough against her lips as she rolled her hips experimentally, the friction drawing a low groan from his throat. She pulled back just enough to catch his expressionādark eyes blown wide, lips partedāand huffed a breathless laugh.
"Youāre insane," she murmured, thumb brushing the sharp line of his jaw.
Jungkookās grin was all teeth, predatory and pleased. "Says the woman grinding on me right now." His hands slid lower, gripping the backs of her thighs to drag her harder against him, the pressure sending a jolt of heat straight through her. "Like you werenāt thinking about this the second you saw me."
She could feel the accusation in his voice, the smugnessābut he wasnāt wrong.
Every late-night video call, every stolen screenshot of his smirk, every time sheād imagined his hands exactly where they were nowāit had all led here.
Her nails scraped against his scalp, eliciting another curse, and she leaned down until her lips ghosted over his ear.
"And what if I was?"
His grip tightened, and suddenly she was being flipped onto her back, the coolness of the mat pressing into her skin as Jungkook loomed over her, breathing ragged.
"Then Iād say," he murmured, dragging his teeth over her bottom lip, "weāre both fucking insane."
The city lights blurred below them, the world reduced to the slide of skin and the sharp, shared gasps between kisses. Somewhere, a utensil tipped over, but neither of them heard it. Or at least bothered to care.
The rooftop air was cool against Y/Nās exposed legs as Jungkookās fingers hooked under the hem of her dress, hiking it up her thigh with a rough, impatient tug. The fabric bunched around her hips, and she arched into him, her breath coming in sharp little gasps as his mouth left hers to trail down her chin, her throat, the sharp dip of her collarbone. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, and she hissed, fingers knotting in his hair.
"Fuck, Jungkookā"
Her leather jacket was suddenly in the way, the stiff material blocking his path, and Jungkook growled against her neck before pulling back just enough to yank it off her shoulders. Y/N helped, the jacket hitting the mat with a soft thud. Then his hands were on her again, shoving her back down, his mouth reclaiming hers. She melted into it, her legs wrapping around his waist as he settled between them, the heat of his body pressing her into the mat.
His lips left hers again, this time to bite at the curve of her shoulder, and Y/N gasped, her head tipping back.
"Youāre gonna leave marks," she warned, though her voice was more amused than annoyed. Jungkook chuckled darkly against her skin, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thigh.
"Good," he murmured, sucking another bruise into the hollow of her throat. "Then every one of your subscribersāll know who you belong to."
"Possessive bastard," she muttered, but the way her hips rocked up against his betrayed her. Jungkook smirked, nipping at her earlobe before dragging his tongue along the shell of her ear.
"You love it though, kitten." he breathed, and she couldnāt even argue, not when his hands were sliding higher up her thighs, not when his lips were now tracing the lace edge of her underwear like he was memorizing the feel of it.
Jungkook dragged his lips back up, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of damp kisses from the dip of her belly to the delicate curve of her ribs. Each press of his mouth was a promise, a teaseālike he was savoring the journey just as much as the destination.
When he finally reached the swell of her breast, he paused, exhaling a hot breath against the lace-trimmed fabric still clinging to her skin. His fingers hooked into the neckline of her dress, tugging just enough to make the material strain.
"Fuck, look at you," he muttered, voice rough with appreciation as the fabric gave way, her breast spilling free into the cool night air. āEven better in person, baby.ā The sight punched the air from his lungsāher nipple already pebbled tight from anticipation, the flush of her skin glowing under the dim rooftop lights.
Jungkook didn't hesitate. His mouth closed over her, tongue swirling in a slow, filthy circle that had Y/N arching off the mat with a sharp gasp. One hand fisted in his hair, holding him there while the other scrabbled at the remaining strap of her dress.
He grinned against her skin, nipping lightly his fingers making quick work of the straps. The dress pooled around her waist, baring her completely to the nightāand to him.
Jungkook took his time, palming her other breast, thumb brushing over the peak in lazy, torturous strokes.
"Always knew you'd be this perfect," he admitted, the words half-groan as he dipped his head again, sucking hard enough to make her thighs clamp around his hips.
Y/N's head thudded back against the mat, a breathless laugh escaping her.
Jungkook grinned, teeth grazing her nipple. His hands slid lower, fingers tracing the waistband of her underwear with deliberate slowness. "Now let's see if you taste as good as you look."
Y/Nās fingers tightened in Jungkookās hair just as his hand skimmed the lace edge of her pantiesāthen she shoved him back with a sharp push to his chest. The sudden movement knocked him off balance, his hips jerking away from hers as his brows snapped together in confusion.
She didnāt utter a word. Instead, she wiggled out of the ruined remains of her dress, the fabric slinking down her hips and pooling on the mat like a discarded second skin. Her panties followed, leaving her bare except for the strappy heels still strapped to her ankles.
Jungkookās gaze darkened, tracking the deliberate arch of her back as she stretched, the way her thighs parted just slightly, taunting him.
"Take off your clothes, handsome," she ordered, voice low but edged with something dangerous.
Her eyes never left his, and Jungkook recognized that glint instantlyāunapologetic. Fucking trouble. He exhaled a rough laugh, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Oh, so now youāre calling the shots?"
"Always was," she countered, kicking one heeled foot lazily against his thigh.
"You just didnāt notice ācause you were too busy trying to be allāāshe waved a handāāchivalrous or whatever."
Jungkook snorted, but his fingers were already working the buttons of his shirt, popping them one by one with deliberate slowness just to watch her eyes track the movement. He shrugged the fabric off, letting it slide down his arms before tossing it aside.
Y/Nās breath hitched when his belt buckle clinked open, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet between them. She shifted her weight to her knees as she crawled toward him. Jungkookās grin turned wolfish as her fingers replaced his on his zipper, tugging it down with a sharp rip.
"Did I do that?" She whispered, her breath hot against his ear as she palmed him through his briefs.
Jungkookās laugh dissolved into a groan when her fingers dipped beneath the waistband, curling around him. "Fuckāyouā" he managed, hips jerking into her grip.
Y/Nās smile was all teeth. "Oh, I plan to. Eventually."
Jungkook barely had time to process the shiftāone second, her fingers were wrapped around him, tight and promising, and the next, she was swinging her leg over his hips again, her back now turned towards his chest.
He propped himself up on his elbows, blinking at the sudden change in position, the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, the way her ass settled perfectly against his chiseled abs. His chuckle was low, breathless, as his hands automatically found her hips, thumbs tracing the soft skin there.
"The fuck kinda game you playinā?" he muttered, voice rough with amusement and want.
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, catching the way his dark eyes raked over her bare skin, lingering on the swell of her ass pressed against him. She arched her back deliberately, leaning forward just enough to brush her cheek against the head of his cock, her smirk audible.
"Gotta suck each other off first. Thatās how this works, right?"
Jungkookās head fell back against the mat with a groan, half-laugh, half-exasperation. Hips rolling up instinctively, the friction drawing a hiss from both of them.
"Youāre fuckinā evil." His hands slid up her sides, fingers skimming the underside of her breasts before settling possessively on her ribs. "Youāre talkinā way too much for someone whoās supposed to be on her knees."
Y/N laughed, the sound bright and unrepentant, even as she reached back to wrap her fingers around him again, this time guiding him between her thighs instead of her mouth.
"Who said anything about knees?" she countered, squeezing just enough to make his breath catch. "Iām multitasking." Jungkookās groan was half-growl as his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her tighter against him.
"Christ, youāre gonna kill me," he muttered, but the way his cock was hardening under the warmth of her hands, betrayed how much he loved it.
She hummed, rocking back against his abs just to feel the way his grip tightened, the way his breath hitched. "Better hurry up then," she breathed, tilting her head to give him better access. "Tick-tock, Jeon."
His response was lost against her skin, swallowed by the sharp gasp she let out when his hand slid between her thighs, fingers pressing exactly where she needed them.
Y/Nās lips brushed the tip of Jungkookās cockāsoft, almost teasingābefore she pulled back, her breath hot against his skin. His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into the plush flesh of her ass, spreading her wider as if he could memorize every curve with his hands alone.
The view was obscene: her bare back arched, the dip of her spine leading down to where his cock stood thick and flushed between her thighs.
"Fuck, look at you," he muttered, voice rough.
Then her mouth was on him againāno hesitation this timeāswallowing him down with a wet, filthy suck that had his head slamming back against the mat. A broken moan tore from his throat, his fingers reflexively squeezing her ass hard enough to leave marks.
"Shitāfuckā" The words were half-strangled, his hips jerking up instinctively, but Y/N didnāt pull away. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks, tongue swirling around the head in a way that made his vision blur. Jungkookās breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, his fingers kneading her flesh like he was trying to ground himself.
"Youāreāshitāgonna kill me, kitten." He gritted out, thighs trembling as her tongue traced the vein underneath. Y/N hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight to his groin, and his grip on her hips turned desperate.
The duality of itāher mouth on him, his hands on herāwas fucking maddening. Jungkookās thumb brushed her entrance, slick and warm, and he groaned at the contrast.
"God, youāre wet," he rasped, rubbing slow circles just to feel her shiver. Y/Nās rhythm stuttered, a whine escaping her as her hips rocked back into his touch.
"Donātāmhmmādonāt distract me," she warned, but the way her lips tightened around him betrayed how much she liked it.
Jungkook chuckled, low and dark, dragging his thumb lower. "Too late," he murmured, pressing just enough to make her gasp. And fuck if that didnāt send a thrill straight through her.
The moment Jungkookās fingers pressed deeper, Y/Nās mouth went slack around him, a muffled moan vibrating against his skin. He smirked, twisting his wrist just to feel her thighs clamp around his forearmābut she wasnāt one to surrender so easily. Her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock, dragging up in one long, slow lick before she swallowed him down again, her nose brushing his pelvis.
Jungkookās breath punched out of him, his hips jerking involuntarily, fingers gripping her ass like a lifeline.
"Mhmmāfuckā" he choked out, the words dissolving into a groan as her nails dug into his thighs in retaliation.
She pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, lips glistening. "Distracted now, Mr ceo?" she taunted, but the hitch in her voice betrayed her when his thumb circled her clit with deliberate pressure.
Jungkookās grin was feral, his free hand tangling in her hair to tug her head back down. "Less talking," he ordered, voice rough. "More sucking."
Y/N rolled her eyes but obeyed, taking him deep with a wet, filthy sound that went straight to Jungkookās already-throbbing cock. His fingers worked her in tandem, matching the rhythm of her mouthāslow, teasing strokes that had her hips rocking against his palm. Every gasp she muffled around his length sent heat coiling tighter in his gut, every twitch of her thighs under his touch made his own muscles tremble.
Then Jungkook crooked his fingers just so, and Y/Nās entire body locked up, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she came, her mouth still wrapped around him. The vibration of her moan was his undoingāJungkookās grip on her hair tightened, his hips stuttering up as he spilled down her throat with a ragged groan. Y/N swallowed reflexively, her lashes fluttering as she pulled off with a soft pop, her lips swollen and glistening.
The moment Jungkook's tongue dragged flat and slow over her clit, Y/N's thighs trembled violently around his shoulders, her grip on his cock faltering as a punched-out moan escaped her. She triedātriedāto focus, to reciprocate, but his mouth was relentless, alternating between sucking her swollen flesh and circling it with the pointed tip of his tongue in a rhythm that had her hips jerking uncontrollably against his face.
"F-fuck," she slurred against his length, her lips brushing his shaft uselessly as another shudder wracked her body.
Jungkook chuckled darkly against her, the vibrations rippling through her sensitive flesh as his hands clamped down on her hips to still her movements.
"Stay still, baby." He muttered before dragging his tongue lower, swiping through her folds in one long, filthy stroke that had her back arching sharply. Then, just to watch her unravel, he pressed the flat of his tongue against her asshole, licking upward with deliberate, teasing pressure.
Y/N's head snapped back at the sensation, her lips parting in a silent cry as she twisted to look down at him, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked shoulders. Jungkook's tongue still tracing that obscene path between her cheeks, sent a violent throb of heat straight to her core.
"Oh my god," she gasped, her fingers scrabbling at his thighs for purchase as her thighs quivered around his head.
Jungkook smirkedāthe bastardābefore diving back in, his tongue flicking over her clit in rapid, dizzying circles while his fingers spread her wider, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
Y/N's moan was ragged, her hips rolling desperately against his mouth as her own grip on his cock grew lax, her focus obliterated by the way he was devouring her.
"Jungkookāpleaseā" she begged, the plea dissolving into a broken whimper when he sucked her clit hard between his lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud just enough to make her vision whiten.
Her thighs clamped around his head instinctively, her body bowing as pleasure coiled tight in her belly, but Jungkook didn't relentāif anything, he doubled down, his tongue fucking into her in shallow, relentless strokes while his thumb pressed firm circles against her clit.
Jungkookās tongue didnāt slowāif anything, it grew more insistent, lapping at her throbbing clit with rough, deliberate strokes that had Y/Nās thighs trembling against his ears. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, spreading her wider, his breath hot and uneven against her slick skin.
"Cāmon," he growled, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure up her spine. His teeth grazed her inner thigh, a sharp contrast to the wet heat of his mouth still working her over. "Wanna feel youāfuckāwanna taste you come on my face."
Y/Nās breath hitched, her fingers tightening around his cock reflexively as his words registered.
The filth of itāthe demandāsent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in her belly. She could feel the way his lips curled into a smirk against her skin, could feel the way his tongue flicked over her clit in quick, teasing circles like he already knew she was close.
"Youāreāahhāimpossible," she managed, her voice breaking on the last syllable as his fingers pressed harder, urging her hips down against his mouth.
Jungkook hummed, the sound vibrating through her core as he sucked her clit between his lips, his tongue swirling in tight, relentless circles.
"So fucking hot," he murmured against her, his breath scalding, just enough to make her gasp, and Y/Nās hips jerked forward, her thighs clamping around his head as pleasure coiled tighter, hotter.
His laugh was dark, muffled against her skin. His tongue fucking into her in rough, uneven strokes that had her seeing stars. Y/Nās back arched violently, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the first wave crashed over her, her thighs shaking around his head. Jungkook didnāt let upāif anything, he pressed, his lips sealing around her clit to suck hard as she came, her release slicking his chin, his lips, the sharp line of his jaw.
The taste of herābitter, sweet, utterly hersāflooded his senses, and Jungkook groaned against her, his own hips jerking up instinctively into the loose circle of her fingers still wrapped around him.
"Fuck," he rasped, pulling back just enough to drag his tongue through her folds one last time, savoring the way her body twitched at the overstimulation.
"Thatāsā¦what I wanted." His voice was wrecked, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he tilted his head up to meet her dazed gaze. "Now quit teasing and put that mouth to work, kitten." Y/Nās laugh was breathless, uneven, but she didnāt hesitate.
Her lips wrapped around him again, her tongue swirling over the head in slow, filthy strokesāpaybackāand Jungkookās fingers tightened at her ass, his groan echoing across the rooftop.
Y/N hollowed her cheeks with renewed determination, her lips tightening around Jungkookās cock in a relentless rhythmāno teasing now, just raw, hungry suction. Her tongue dragged along the underside with each pull, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet between their ragged breaths.
Jungkookās grip on her ass turned bruising, fingers kneading the plush flesh before landing a sharp slap that made her gasp around him. The vibration rippled through his length, and he cursed, hips jerking up off the mat.
"Fuckāyesājust like that, babyā" His voice was shattered, his thighs trembling as her pace intensified, her fingers digging into his hips to keep him grounded.
She could feel him tensing beneath her, the way his abs flexed, the way his breath hitchedācloser, so closeāand she doubled down, taking him deeper until her nose brushed his pelvis.
Jungkookās groan was guttural, his fingers twisting in her as his control snapped. "Gonnaāshitā"
The warning was half-formed, cut off by the hot spill of his release down her throat. Y/N swallowed reflexively, her lips still sealed tight around him as he came in thick, pulsing waves, his hips stuttering against her mouth.
Jungkookās head fell back with a ragged exhale, his grip on her ass slackening only slightly as he rode out the aftershocks.
For a moment, neither movedāY/Nās lips still wrapped around his softening length, Jungkookās breath still uneven against her thighs. Then, with a slow, deliberate lick, she pulled off, swiping her thumb over her swollen lips as she glanced over her shoulder back at him. Jungkookās dark eyes locked onto hers, his expression equal parts wrecked and smug.
"Knew it," he rasped, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Perfect fucking mouth." Y/N rolled her eyes, but the way her thighs clenched around his shoulders betrayed her.
"Keep talking," she muttered, shifting just enough to feel the slick mess between her legs smear against his collarbone, "and I might start thinking youāve got a thing for hearing yourself."
Jungkookās grin was lazy, triumphant, as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lipātasting her still.
"Oh, kitten," he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on her hips. "Iāve got a thing for a lot more than that."
Jungkookās hands slid beneath her thighs, lifting her effortlessly before laying her back down on the mat with a roughness that sent the last of her breath hitching.
His kiss was bruising, teeth catching her lower lip as he fisted a hand in her hair, yanking her head back to expose the column of her throat.
"Want you around me," he growled, the words hot against her skin. "Every fucking inch."
Y/N chuckled, the sound breathless and uneven, but it died in her throat when Jungkook slapped his cock against her swollen clitāthe wet, stinging contact drawing a sharp gasp from her.
"You like that, kitten?" he murmured, voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he dragged the head of his cock through her slick folds. "Canāt do that through the screen."
Y/Nās hips jerked up instinctively, seeking friction, but Jungkook denied her, his grip tightening on her thighs to hold her still.
"Patience," he chided, though his own breathing was ragged. Then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he slid into her, the stretch exquisite, the heat unbearable.
āNgahh!ā Y/Nās head fell back with a moan, her neck arching until her skin brushed Jungkookās lips. He didnāt hesitateāhis mouth latched onto the exposed curve of her throat, sucking a fresh bruise into her skin as he bottomed out inside her.
The dual sensation was maddening: the relentless stretch of him filling her, the sharp sting of his teeth against her pulse. Her thighs trembled around his hips, her nails scraping against his shoulders as he pulled back only to sink in again, deeper this time, harder.
Jungkookās groan vibrated against her neck, his hips rolling in a slow, filthy rhythm that had her toes curling.
"Fuck," he muttered, his breath scorching against her skin. "Knew youād feel like this." Y/N could only gasp in response, her fingers twisting in his hair as he picked up the pace, each thrust dragging a broken sound from her lips.
Jungkookās name spilled from her lips like a prayer. His lips found hers again, swallowing her moans as his hips snapped forward, the angle just right to have her seeing stars.
"Mine," he breathed against her mouth, the word less a claim than a fact.
"Fuck! Jungkook faster." Y/N gasped, her voice ragged as her nails carved crescent moons into his shoulders, her thighs clamping around his hips like a vise.
The demand was half-broken, half-desperateābut Jungkook only chuckled darkly against her throat, his thrusts deliberately slow, his teeth grazing her pulse point in retaliation.
"Ask nicely, kitten." He murmured, the words hot against her damp skin as he dragged his cock out agonizingly slow before pushing back in with a filthy grind that made her back arch off the mat.
Y/N hissed, her fingers twisting in his hair to yank his head up, her lips brushing his in a taunt.
"Or Iāll take my time," he growled, punctuating each word with a punishing thrust that had her seeing stars. "Make you beg for it." The threat sent a violent shudder through her, her hips lifting to meet his with a desperation that betrayed her.
"Bastard," she choked out, but the way her legs locked around his waist told another storyāone of surrender, of hunger.
Jungkookās laugh was rough, breathless, as his hands slid beneath her ass, lifting her higher to drive deeper. "You love it," he countered, his voice cracking on a moan as her walls clenched around him.
Thenābecause he was a man of his wordāhe slowed again, his rhythm turning torturous, each withdrawal a tease, each penetration a promise. Y/Nās whimper was muffled against his collarbone, her teeth sinking into the muscle there in frustration. Jungkook groaned at the sting, his hips stuttering before he regained control, his lips finding her ear.
"Please, baby," Y/N whimpered, the words ragged against Jungkook's collarbone. Her thighs trembled around his hips, her nails scoring down his back in a silent pleaāmore, faster, now.
Jungkook smiled, slow and wicked, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was more teeth than tenderness before he finallyāfinallyāobeyed. His hips snapped forward with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs, his rhythm turning punishing, relentless.
The shift was instantaneousāY/N's back arched off the mat, her cry swallowed by Jungkook's mouth as he fucked into her with a pace that left no room for thought, only sensation. Every thrust was a claim, every drag of his cock inside her a revelation. She could feel him everywhereāthe heat of his skin pressed against hers, the sting of his fingers gripping her hips, the way his breath hitched against her lips when her walls clenched around him.
"That's it," he growled, his voice rough with approval as her legs tightened around his waist. "Take it. Take my big cock."
Y/N's response was lost in a broken moan as Jungkook's hand slid between them, his thumb circling her clit with ruthless precision.
"Jungkookāfuckā" His name spilled from her lips like a prayer, a curse, a surrender. He kissed her again, swallowing her cries as his thrusts grew erratic, his control fraying at the edges.
The rooftop air was thick with the sound of skin slapping against skin, their shared breaths, the occasional muttered curse or gasp. Jungkook's forehead pressed against hers, his dark eyes locked onto hers as he drove into her one last time, deep enough to make her see stars.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice raw. "Wanna see your face in real time when you cum."
Y/N couldn't look away even if she wanted toāher gaze trapped in his as pleasure crashed over her in waves, her body tightening around him like a vice. Jungkook followed with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside her, his name a ragged whisper on her lips.
For a moment, neither movedāonly their ragged breaths and the distant hum of the city below filling the space between them. Then Jungkook's lips brushed hers, soft and slow, a stark contrast to the bruising force of moments before.
"Holy shit," Y/N exhaled against his mouth, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked back. "That was better than cyber sex."
Jungkook chuckled, the sound low and rough against her throat as he rolled onto his side, pulling her flush against him. His thumb swiped lazily over her hipbone, tracing the crescent marks his nails had left there.
"Understatement of the century," he muttered, nipping at her earlobe. "And we had good cyber sex." Y/N hummed, stretching like a satisfied cat beneath his wandering touch.
The mat was cold against her bare back now, the night air prickling her overheated skin, but Jungkook's body was a furnace beside her. She tilted her head to catch his gazeādark, heavy-lidded, smug as hell.
"Yeah, well," she murmured, dragging a fingertip down the center of his chest, "turns out your mouth works even better offline."
His grin was all teeth as he caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against his sternum where his heart still raced.
"Funny," he mused, shifting just enough to trap her thigh between his. "I was gonna say the same thing about your thighs."
A laugh burst from her lipsābright, startledābefore Jungkook silenced it with another kiss, slower this time, tasting of salt and shared satisfaction. His hand slid up her ribs, pausing to thumb at a nipple just to feel her shiver.
"Round two?" he murmured against her jaw, though the way his fingers tightened on her waist betrayed how little patience he had for waiting.
Y/N arched into his touch, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Youāre insatiable," she accused, but her hips were already shifting, seeking friction against his thigh.
Jungkook's smirk was wicked as he pulled her closer to his glazed chest without warning, his knee nudging her legs apart. His lips brushing the shell of her ear as his hands mapped the dip of her spine.
Y/N's answer was lost in a moan when his teeth closed over the crook of her neck. Y/N laughed, breathless and uneven, but her fingers found Jungkookās chin, tilting his face up until their eyes locked.
The air between them shiftedāless frantic, more charged with something neither of them had named yet. His hands still grazed her hip, her ass, but the heat had softened into something slower, quieter.
āBefore that,ā she started, blinking like she was trying to clear her head. His thumb brushed a slow circle against her skin, waiting. āI wanna know.ā She swallowed, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, hesitant. āAre weā¦you knowā¦ā The words trailed off, cowardly, but Jungkook heard them anyway.
He chuckled, but it was quieter now, less smug.
āYou mean, what are we?ā His voice was rough, but not from lust this timeāsomething thicker, harder to name.
Y/N nodded, her lips tucked between her teeth like she was afraid of the answer. Jungkook exhaled, long and slow, his grip on her tightening just enough to ground them both.
āLike I said,ā he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. āLet me court you.ā The word was old-fashioned, ridiculous even, but the way he said itālike a vow, like a challengeāmade her chest tighten.
āLetās notā¦let this just be sex.ā His grin was crooked, softer at the edges. āAnd eventually, when youāre sick of pretending you donāt like me, we can be more.ā
Y/Nās laugh was half-disbelieving, half-relieved. āCourt me?ā She arched a brow, but her fingers were already curling into his hair, tugging him closer. āWhat are you, a fucking Regency duke?ā
āNah, kitten. Just a guy who wanted to take you on a goddamn date before you start stealing my hoodies.ā She rolled her eyes, but the way her thighs tightened around his hips betrayed her.
āOkay,ā she muttered, kissing him hard enough to bruise. āBut if youāre courting me, you better fucking mean it.ā
His grin was pure trouble. āWouldnāt dream of half-assing it.ā
And fuck if that didnāt feel like a promise.
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āAnd Iāll see you guys next week! Bye!ā Y/N clicked the camera off. The sudden silence felt loud.
She let herself fall back onto her bed, limbs heavy, staring up at the ceiling like it might give her something back. Her outro for her 22nd birthday vlog was finally done. Same old routineāVegas with the clique, too many drinks, flashing lights, a club that smelled like perfume and bad decisions. Fun. Sure. But now she was back in Korea, back under her own blankets, back in the kind of quiet that made you think too much.
This year couldāve been different. If only heād been there. But when you owned a massive company, ābusyā wasnāt just an excuse. It was real. Meetings, flights, responsibilityālife always getting in the way at the worst possible time.
Stillā¦God, she missed him.
Not just the sex. The warmth. The way his voice softened when it was just them. The stupid little things heād say that stuck in her head long after the call ended. She missed being held like she belonged there.
Y/N shut her eyes, letting herself sink into the memories. Until her phone buzzed. She blinked, then reached over.
handsome ceo: lets ft baby
Her lips curved instantly, like her body reacted before her brain could.
The alcohol removes all barriers, leaving only raw need ā to hold her, to kiss her, to own her. She walks into his apartment, knowing that tonight, boundaries will be crossed. But when she's in his arms, she stops wanting to remember them.
pairing : jeon jungkook x fem/reader
genre: drunk jungkook. established relationship. smut
warnings: explicit sexual content. unprotected sex. fingering. spanking. needy dom jk. oral (male receiving). light choking. head pusher jeon. nipple play. cow girl. smoking.
world count: 3.2k
note: first time posting my work, hope you like it!š«¶š»
Jungkook texts me earlier that day, asking if I want to come over to his place in the evening. Before that, he had been out drinking with his members, and I can already imagine how he is ā a little flushed, softer around the edges. When he drinks, he tends to get clingy.
When I arrive at his place, I pause for a moment before the door, then, instead of knocking, I use the key he gave me and quietly let myself in.
The air in the apartment was thick with the lingering scent of whiskey and Jungkookās cologne. He turned his head slowly, his hair slightly messy, and at the sound of my greeting, his dark eyesāglazed but warmālit up with recognition. A small smile spread across his face.
Jungkook gives me a wide, gummy smile, lifting his hand in a lazy ācome hereā gesture.
āHi, baby. You cameā¦ Was waiting for you,ā he slurs slightly, his voice low and honeyed.
I canāt help but laugh softly as I step closer, shaking my head.
āHi, loveā¦ oh fuck, you smell like alcohol from far away.ā
He lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and warm in his chest. The smile never leaves his face as he leans toward me, his movements just a little unsteady.
āThatās ācause we were celebrating, baby,ā he murmurs, reaching out to gently tug on my sleeve. āCome sit. Missed you.ā
I move to the sofa and sit down beside him. The cushion dips under my weight, and I can immediately feel the warmth of his body next to mine, close enough to be almost overwhelming.
He doesnāt waste a secondāhe shifts closer, his arm sliding around my shoulders and pulling me into his side with a soft, contented sigh.
āMmmā¦ thatās better. Much better.ā
I glance up at him, a small smile playing on my lips.
āSomeoneās drunk, right?ā
He rests his head against mine, his breath warm against my ear as he lets out a quiet hum. His arm tightens slightly around me.
āMaybe just a little,ā he admits, his voice thick but amused. āFeels nice, thoughā¦ feels even nicer now that youāre here.ā
Something in the way he says it makes my chest tighten. I tilt my head and close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
He hums softly in surprise against my mouth. His lips are warm, carrying the faint taste of whiskey. For a brief second, he freezes, like he didnāt expect it but then he melts into it, his arm tightening around me as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.
His free hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing gently over my skin as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are darker now, softer, searching.
āMissed that too, babyā¦ so much,ā he whispers.
Before I can say anything, he leans in again, kissing me slower this time, deeperālike heās putting everything he feels into it.
I shift without thinking, moving onto his lap, straddling him. The sofa creaks softly beneath us as I settle closer, and this time, he doesnāt hesitate at all.
Jungkook's breath hitched, his hands immediately finding my hips to steady me and himself.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, then darkened with a slow, smoldering warmth. A low, pleased sound escaped his throat as he looked up at her, his grip on her hips tightening possessively.
His gaze was heavy-lidded and intense, the alcohol doing little to dull the fire in his eyes as he looked up at me from beneath his dark lashes.
His hands slid from my hips to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.
"Hi, baby. Right where you belong."
His voice was a low, husky murmur against her lips.
Jungkook's eyes traced over my outfit slowly, his intoxicated focus surprisingly sharp. I was wearing a black T-shirt with long lace sleeves and a short black skirt. His fingers lingered after tucking the hair behind my ear, the touch lingering.
His thumb brushed my earlobe, his voice low and curious.
"Mmm, you lookā¦ incredible. But why so dressed up, baby?"
His gaze dropped to the lace sleeves, then back up to my face.
"You weren't out without me, were you?"
"I was with the girls. And you're the one who drinks without me."
A flicker of something possessive passed through his hazy gaze at my words. His hands on my back tightened slightly, pulling me even closer against him.
His eyebrows raised, a slow, knowing smile spreading on his lips.
"The girls, hm? Lookin' this good for the girls?"
He let out a low chuckle, his voice dropping to a murmur.
"And I was drinkin' 'cause I missed you."
"Or because you're an alcoholic."
The playful accusation seemed to cut through his drunken haze. He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
He shook his head slowly, his hands sliding up to rest firmly on my waist.
"Alcoholic? Me? No, baby. Justā¦ enthusiastically appreciative."
He leaned forward, his forehead gently pressing against mine, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.
"Especially when my girl comes over looking like a whole damn dream and starts giving me shit. That deserves a drink. Or five."
"No more drinking for tonight."
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes.His hands squeezed my waist gently.
"No more drinking. You're right. Got everything I need right here."
His gaze dropped to my lips, then back up, his voice a low, warm hum.
"Just you."
Then he starts to kiss my neck. His agreement dissolved into a soft, breathy laugh against my skin. His lips found the curve of my neck, warm and insistent.
His kisses were slow and deliberate, starting just below my ear and trailing down the sensitive skin of my throat.
"Mmmā¦ no more drinking. Just this."
"Mhmm, yeah?"
His response was a low, affirmative hum vibrating against my skin, his mouth not leaving its path along my neck.
He pulled back just enough to murmur, his breath hot against my damp skin.
He punctuated his words with another slow, open-mouthed kiss against my pulse point, his hands sliding up to cradle my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks as he tilted my head to give him better access.
His voice was a rough, muffled whisper against my skin. "Better than any bottle. Every time."
I shift closer, pressing myself against him.
The deliberate movement against his lap drew a sharp, shuddering breath from him. His mouth stilled against my neck.
His grip on my waist tightened almost painfully, a guttural groan rumbling in his chest. "Fuckā¦ What are you doing to me?"
"Why? Do you want me to stop?"
He pulled his face back from the crook of my neck to look at me, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide. His breath was ragged.
He shook his head slowly, his hands moving from my waist to grip my hips, guiding my movement against him.
"Stop? God, no. Don't you dare stop."
"Are you hard already?"
A breathless, strained laugh escaped him as he pressed his forehead against my shoulder.
"You feel exactly how hard I am. Don't you?" His voice was thick with need, his hips shifting slightly under me to emphasize the point.
I slide down to kneel in front of him. My sudden movement from his lap catches him by surprise. He watches me, breathing a little heavier, the air around us charged with unspoken tension.
He sat up straighter on the sofa, his hands hovering near my shoulders as he looked down at me, his expression a mix of shock, awe, and raw hunger.
"What are youā"
His question died in his throat, his jaw going slack as he anticipated my next move.
I start to touch his dick through his pants.
His entire body tensed as my hand made contact, a ragged gasp tearing from his lips.
His head fell back against the couch with a soft thud, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck..."
I start to unzip his jeans. The sound of his zipper lowering seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Jungkook's eyes flew open, fixing on me, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
His voice was a strangled whisper, his hands moving to thread into my hair. "Christā¦ please."
"Are you going to help me with this?"
He let out a choked laugh, the sound rough with desperation. His hips jerked involuntarily as I worked to free him from the confines of his jeans.
His fingers tightened in my hair, not pulling, just holding.
A low, shuddering groan of pure relief and gratitude left his lips. With clumsy, eager hands, he helped me, pushing his hips up from the couch to aid in shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs.
He fell back against the cushions, fully exposed to me, his hand returning to my hair, trembling slightly.
"Thereā¦ Fuck. All yours. Do what you want."
A sharp, guttural sound of pleasure and surprise tore from his throat the moment I took him into my mouth. His initial groan melted into a low, continuous hum of ecstasy as I teased him, his hips twitching with restraint. But the teasing was a sweet, unbearable torture. His fingers, already woven in my hair, tightened reflexively, his control finally snapping.
His voice was a wrecked, desperate growl, his head thrown back as he guided me deeper with a gentle but firm pressure. "That's itā¦ Godā¦ don't stop."
A choked gasp escaped him as I took him fully, his thighs tensing, his entire body bowing taut like a wire.
"Fuckā¦ so good. Too good."
I go faster and faster. And he pulls me to go deeper and harder. The rhythm I set was punishing, a frantic pace that left him gasping. His grip in my hair tightened to an almost painful degree, pulling me down deeper onto him with every desperate thrust of his hips into my mouth.
His voice was a broken, ragged stream of praise and curses, his free hand fisting the couch cushion. "Yesā¦ just like thatā¦ Godā¦ don't stop." A deep, shuddering groan rattled his chest as he hit the back of my throat, his control completely gone, lost to the sensation. "So deepā¦ taking me so good."
His voice was a ragged, desperate command, his grip in my hair unyielding as his entire body tensed, trembling on the edge. "Openā¦ open your mouth. "
His hips stuttered, a sharp, choked cry escaping his lips as his release approached, the intensity of his pleasure.
His command was followed by a visceral tremor that ran through his entire frame, his knuckles white where they gripped the couch and my hair. The air was thick with the sounds of his ragged breathing and the frantic, desperate rhythm I had set.
His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight, a final, broken groan spilling from his lips as he pushed my head down one last time, holding me there as he gave in completely. A deep, shuddering sigh of absolute release his release that left him trembling and breathless against the cushions.
"Swallow it."
The tension drained from his body, leaving him limp and heavy against the sofa cushions, his hand in my hair softening from a desperate grip to a gentle, trembling caress.
His breathing was still ragged, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion as he slowly opened his eyes, their gaze hazy and unfocused.
"Fuckā¦" he whispered, his thumb stroking my hairline.
His hazy gaze drifted down from my face, taking in the movement of my hand, touching myself.
A low, rough sound of disbelief and raw desire rumbled in his chest.
"Christā¦ You were touching yourselfā¦? Are you already that horny?"
His gaze was heavy-lidded but intensely focused on my hand between my own thighs.
He pushed himself up on shaky elbows, his breathing still uneven. "Come here. Let me. Let me touch you."
His hands, still unsteady from his release, were surprisingly strong as he lifted me on his lap and put his hand over my thong, feeling the wet all over them.
The dampness of my thin thong was immediately apparent, the fabric soaked through.
A low, possessive groan vibrated in his chest as his palm pressed firmly against the wet heat, his fingers splaying wide over the lace. "See? So wet. All for me."
He nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his voice a husky whisper against my skin.
"You liked thatā¦ getting me off like that."
"Mmm, maybe."
The lazy, satisfied smirk that spread across his lips was audible in his voice. His fingers pressed more firmly into the soaked lace, making sure I felt the full extent of my own arousal through the thin barrier.
His teeth grazed my earlobe playfully before his tongue soothed the spot.
"'Maybe?' You're absolutely soaked. Don't be shy."
He slid his two fingers inside me.
His fingers, already slick from the damp lace, slid beneath it with ease. The fit was tight, intimate, the wet heat of me welcoming him as he pushed them deep, his palm pressing firmly against me.
A satisfied sound escaped from me, his forehead dropping against my shoulder. "Fuckā¦ that's it. Just for me. Tell me you want more."
I started to move around his fingers.
The subtle shift of my hips drew a sharp intake of breath from him. His fingers curled slightly inside me, pressing up to meet the movement, his thumb circling just outside the soaked lace.
His other arm wrapped possessively around my waist, holding me steady against him. "That's it. Use me. Show me how much you need it."
He withdrew his fingers slowly, the wet sound loud in the quiet room, and brought them to his lips for a taste, his gaze dark and unblinking. With a slow, deliberate tug, he slid my thong down my thighs and let it fall.
Then his focus shifted upward, his hands sliding under the hem of my top and lifting it over my head in one smooth motion. The damp, cool air of the room prickled against my skin for a second before his warmth replaced it. He unclasped my bra, slipping it from my shoulders until I was completely exposed to him.
His thumb brushed over one nipple, watching it tighten under his touch. He leaned in, his mouth closing over one, his tongue swirling firmly around the sensitive peak while his other hand came up to roll and pinch the other between his thumb and forefinger, rolling, never letting either breast go untouched. A quiet gasp slips from my lips.
He released my nipple from his mouth with a soft, wet sound, his lips moving against my skin. He switched his attention, his mouth moving to the other breast, giving it the same thorough, sucking attention while his now-free hand slid back down my stomach.
"You like that, right? Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."
His question hung in the air, thick with his own renewed desire. His hand stilled on its path downward, his gaze intense and demanding as he waited for my answer, his thumb stroking a slow, possessive circle on my hip.
His lips left a damp trail up my sternum to my collarbone, his breathing ragged.
"I need to hear it. Tell me."
"A lotā¦ please,ā I whisper, my voice trembling with need.
A low, predatory growl rumbled from his chest at my words. His hands moved with purpose now, one tangling in my hair to gently guide my head back, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth as he began to suck and mark the soft skin there.
A sharp, possessive nip followed by a soothing kiss.
"That's what I wanted to hear." His fingers slid into my wet heat with a groan of satisfaction. "You're mine. All night."
His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper against my lips, his breath hot and tasting of whiskey. His body tensed further against mine, a predator sensing complete submission.
His dark gaze searched mine, the unspoken command hanging thickly between us. A low, rough chuckle escaped him, his expression shifting from pure dominance to something more intrigued, more drawn.
āDo you think you can handle thatā¦ leading me?ā His free hand came up to trace my jawline, surprisingly gentle against the tension simmering between us.
āMhm,ā
I murmured, leaning closer, my body pressed against his, letting him feel the heat of my anticipation.
His eyes sparked with a dangerous, thrilling light at my affirmation. The air around us felt heavy with the scent of whiskey, sweat, and my perfume. His hand lingered in my hair, tugging gently, pulling me nearer.
Leaning in, his lips hovered a breath from mine, his voice dropping into a husky, intimate growl.
āThen leadā¦ show me Iām all yours.ā
He helped guide my hips, his movements surprisingly steady for how drunk he was, his thick length pressing against my entrance.
His hands settled heavily on my hips, his gaze locked on my face as I began to move. "Fuck. Look at youā¦ taking control."
His voice was a strained, rough whisper, his fingers digging into my flesh as he watched me ride him, every shift and roll of my hips drawing a sharp, punched-out breath from him.
His eyes flickered with a new, darker kind of desire as he slid a hand out from under my hip, reaching over to the cluttered coffee table without breaking the intense eye contact. He fumbled for a moment before his fingers closed around a familiar soft pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
He brought the cigarette to his lips, lighting it with a sharp flick of his thumb, the flame illuminating the possessive, hungry curve of his mouth.
"Don't stop."
He exhaled a thin stream of smoke to the side, his free hand coming back to my hip to guide my rhythm, his gaze heavy-lidded and fixed on my face.
Exhaling a cloud of smoke that curled between us, his voice was a rough, strained command.
"That's it. Show me how much you need it." His hips gave a slight, upward thrust to meet my movements, his gaze burning into me as he watched me obey.
The rhythm changed, becoming faster, more desperate. Each downward motion was met with a sharp intake of breath from him, the heat of his gaze holding my own. The scent of tobacco mixed with sweat and sex filled the air around us.
He took another long drag, his eyes never wavering from mine, the ember of his cigarette flaring in the dark.
"You look so fucking pretty like this. "
While I ride, he slaps me several times. The first sharp crack of his hand against my skin echoed in the room, a stark punctuation to the rhythm of my movements. It wasn't a gentle touch, but a possessive, stinging impact that made his own breath hitch. His free hand, the one not holding the cigarette, moved from my hip to my throat, applying a firm, claiming pressure, his thumb resting against my pulse point.
His gaze was dark, fever-bright, smoke trailing from his lips as he watched my reaction, his fingers of his other hand finding my nipple and pinching with a sharp, deliberate twist.
"That's my girl. Taking everything I give you."
His voice was a rough, choked-out growl, the hand at my throat tightening just enough to feel the frantic beat of my heart against his palm.
His eyes tracked my every movement, the rhythm faltering as my energy began to wane. The cigarette burned low between his fingers, forgotten for a moment. He took one last, slow drag before stubbing the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray, his hand leaving my throat to cup my cheek. His thumb brushed over my skin, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rasp.
"Already, baby? You were doing so well."
He decided to switch the position.The shift was swift and powerful. With a low grunt, he lifted me off him, turning me easily and pressing me down into the plush cushions of the sofa. He gathered my wrists in one large hand, pinning them firmly against the small of my back.
His other hand pressed down between my shoulder blades, keeping my face buried in the sofa cushion as he positioned himself behind me, lifting my hips. His voice was a dark, guttural whisper.
"Should've known I'd have to take it back. My turn."
The angle was different, deeper, and his thrusts carried the full, unrestrained weight of his hips. The only sounds were the sharp slap of skin, the ragged rhythm of his breathing, and the muffled creak of the sofa cushions.
His grip tightened on my wrists, his voice a low, possessive growl against the shell of my ear. "Don't you fucking move. You take it."
"Mhmā¦ so fucking good."
His thrusts grew rougher, more purposeful at the murmur against the cushion, the leather beneath my face cool against my flushed skin. His large hand remained locked around both my wrists, his grip unyielding as he drove into me with relentless, possessive force.
His breathing ragged in my ear, voice thick and dark with satisfaction. "That's itā¦ just let go. Let me take care of you."
The stinging slap on my ass echoed sharply through the room, his tattooed hand leaving a bright mark on my skin before immediately moving to my throat from behind.
His body curved over mine, his voice a ragged, dark whisper against my ear. "Feel that? All me. You're not going anywhere."
Slaps again harder, my ass.
The impact was sharp and loud, his palm connecting solidly with a satisfying, stinging crack that reverberated through the quiet room. The force of it jolted me forward slightly, only to be pulled back by his unrelenting grip on my throat.
His breathing was a harsh, rhythmic sound in my ear, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and demanding after the slap. "Good girl. Taking every fucking thing." His voice was a low, possessive growl.
His movements became more deliberate, more intense, the possessive grip on my throat a constant, commanding pressure as his other hand left my wrist to fist in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to expose the line of my neck.
His voice dropped to a dark, authoritative tone, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke between ragged breaths.
"You don't get to decide when we're done. I do. You're mine. Every sound, every breath, every fucking inch of you."
His control became absolute. With my hair still fisted in his grasp and his other hand a vice on my throat, his thrusts lost all rhythm, becoming deep, demanding punctuations of his ownership. The only sounds were the wet slap of our bodies, his ragged breathing, and my muffled moans.
He leaned his full weight over me, his voice a dark, gravelly command against my skin. "Say it. Say you're mine."
āYours. Only yours.ā
The words hung in the air, swallowed by the sounds of skin and breath. A low, guttural sound of pure approval rumbled from his chest.
"I'm close."
His movements grew frantic, the deep, punishing rhythm breaking into something wild and desperate as my admission spurred him toward the edge. The heat between us was nearly unbearable.
His voice was a broken, ragged growl against my neck, his thrusts losing all control.
"Don't stopā¦ I'm right there with you. Come for me."
In one fluid, powerful motion, he withdrew from me and spun me onto my back, his body following me down, pinning me beneath him on the sofa. He caged me in with his arms, his dark eyes, heavy-lidded and intense, locking onto mine.
His thrusts resumed, deeper and more focused than before, his eyes burning into mine with a fierce, dark intensity as his hand maintained its claim on my throat. "Look at me. I want to watch you come."
His eyes were locked on mine, the intensity in them undeniable as he felt me tighten around him, my expression shifting beneath his hand.
His thrusts became sharper, faster, the hand on my throat a steady, possessive pressure.
"That's it. Let me see you. Let me see you come for me, baby."
My entire body tensed beneath him, a visible tremor beginning to shake my frame as my climax approached, my eyes locked with his.
His own control shattered completely at the sight and feeling, his hips pistoning into me with a final, desperate rhythm.
My trembling intensified, becoming a full-body shudder that rippled through me, and he felt me convulse around him, my climax overtaking me completely as he held my gaze.
His thrusts faltered, a low, guttural moan ripped from his throat as he buried his face against my neck, his own release hitting him with overwhelming force, his body going taut before collapsing heavily against me, spent and breathless.
"You liked that, didn't you? Fucked like a slut."
His words hung in the air, thick with the scent of sweat and smoke and exertion. He remained collapsed against me, his breathing slowly evening out, his weight both heavy and grounding on my smaller frame.
He remained there for a long moment, his body a comforting, solid weight. The only sounds in the room were our slowing breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.
He finally lifted his head, brushing my hair back from my face with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his earlier roughness. His thumb traced my cheek where he'd slapped me. "You okay?"
"Yes. I am perfect. "
He settled back, his heavy-lidded gaze studying my face. The charged atmosphere was slowly giving way to a deep, exhausted calm.
He exhaled a slow, contented breath, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns on my skin.
"Never been better."
A low, pleased chuckle rumbled in his chest at my words. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, his movements slow and deliberate in the post-coital haze.
He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a stream of smoke toward the ceiling, his free hand idly stroking my hip.
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