#btscreatorscorner

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes. 

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye. 

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary. 

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence. 

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm. 

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together. 

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is. 

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up. 

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit. 

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well. 

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you. 

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls. 

Namjoon whines. 

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you. 

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps. 

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?” 

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?” 

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.  

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable. 

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.” 

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.” 

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water. 

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.” 

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?” 

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” 

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath. 

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?” 

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop. 

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you. 

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.” 

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time. 

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips. 

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away. 

“Take it in your mouth.” 

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins. 

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him. 

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure. 

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale. 

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout. 

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.” 

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind. 

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.” 

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken. 

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps. 

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.” 

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit. 

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Focus on your breathing, okay?” 

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom. 

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.” 

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him. 

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?” 

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in. 

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain. 

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.” 

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness. 

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering. 

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.” 

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?” 

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp. 

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin. 

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum. 

You make it easy for him. 

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.” 

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants. 

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?” 

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours. 

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response. 

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.” 

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.” 

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile. 

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you. 

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react. 

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain. 

It’s brutal. It’s wet. 

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can. 

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him. 

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him. 

“Please, Daddy, come for me.” 

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too. 

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.  

And he does. 

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life. 

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair. 

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window. 

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass. 

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again. 

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it. 

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.” 

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit. 

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can. 

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste. 

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak. 

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.” 

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old. 

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.” 

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles. 

“Two.” 

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand. 

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.” 

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades. 

“Six.” 

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away. 

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair. 

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest. 

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids. 

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them. 

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly. 

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

You shudder. Your senses have been heightened ever since, and you feel like a taut string on a bow ready to snap. 

You have known Seokjin for a few days over three months now, and since the initial meeting when you both agreed to this arrangement, he has been nothing but kind, patient and generous. He told you that the first three months were for you both to get to know each other. You were able to read between the lines, though- it was a test that you needed to pass. So you spent time with him, accompanying him to dinners, fishing trips, and staying at his place while he gamed the whole night till the sun came up. You never asked for anything, you remained quiet and mousy at the events he brought you to, listening to murmurs and gossip and reporting them to him. You learned to fish so you could feed into his competitive streak, and you even tried your hands at gaming; a luxury you never had growing up. And during all these times, he had never touched you, apart from a peck on the cheek when he dropped you off at your place. However, with every notification on your phone of a deposit made into your bank account, you knew when the time came, you would have to be ready for him.

And now, the time has indeed come. Your body feels hot all over as your sugar daddy approaches you. He looks incredibly handsome, and you keep wondering why he would pick you, a plain wallflower, when he could have picked any other beautiful women, even celebrities. 

“Petal,” he lands a soft kiss on your cheek, “you look like you’re about to pass out.” He stands so impossibly close to you, enveloping you with his musk, making you feel dizzy with want and lust. 

You let out a nervous chuckle. “I am nervous,” you admit, knowing Seokjin values honesty above all. “I’m worried I won’t be good enough.”

“I will be satisfied, and you will be too,” he promises. “Are you wearing the gift I got you?”

You nod. The lingerie sticks to your skin, clammy from all the nerves and anxiety. Seokjin takes your hand and leads you to the sofa. He sits down and pulls you to his lap. Insecurity engulfs you when he wraps his hand around your middle, his fingers digging into the flesh underneath your clothes. You shudder when his fingers travel up your side, touch so fleeting you instinctively turn to him, silently begging for more. His chest rumbles in appreciation once his large hand covers your breast, and once his fingers dig into the supple flesh, your doubts fly away, your mind filled with more need and lust for him.

“So soft,” he whispers, squeezing your breast again. You lean further into him, embarrassed that you are already making a mess between your legs from a single action.

“Been wanting to touch these tits since the day I met you,” his nose nudges your neck, his words slither along your skin. “I’ve thought about them so much, had to control myself these last three months. Do you think about me at all, baby? Hmm?”

 Another gush of arousal leaks out onto your panties, you revel at his admission that he thinks of you too. “Yeah,” you pant. You do, you do indeed. You fantasize about him every night, since you started being his sugar baby, wondering what it would be like to finally be intimate with him. Not that you have a lot of references to go with, but from the time you have spent with him, you would like to think he would be more attentive than… no, you’re not going to think about that. 

Seokjin pulls you into a searing kiss, his hand still kneading your breast while his other hand grabs your ass to pull your body flush against his. He continues kissing and touching you, pulling out moan after moan, touching your body to make you jerk and press yourself further onto him. You can feel his hard erection underneath you, so you naturally start grinding on him, seeking friction to enhance your pleasure. You hear the growl first before he bucks his hips up, catching you by surprise.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, your sex feels like it is on fire. You hold your breath and grip his shoulders, your orgasm just within reach.

He tuts in your ear. “Gonna cum already?” He nips your earlobe. “I haven’t even started yet, petal. You’re so sensitive, hmm?”

You cling onto him. “Want to,” you mumble. 

He maneuvers you so that you are seated facing him, straddling him. His hands are on your thighs, pushing your dress up and up, until your panties are shown to his hungry eyes. He licks his lips. Your cheeks burn at his brazen show of desire.

“God, I have good taste.”

His self-praising line makes you giggle a little, which in turns makes him laugh too. Feeling the tension abating a little gives you some courage to lift your dress up and off, presenting yourself in the lingerie he has gifted you.

“Fuck…” he leans back on the sofa. You feel your skin heating at the way he looks at your body. The self-conscious feeling is creeping in again, your hands itching to cover your middle, but before you can do so, he grabs your hands and pulls them to the small of your back, pinning them there. The position makes you arch your back, pushing your breasts closer towards him.

“Fuck,” he curses again, “I’m going to have so much fun taking these off of you.” 

You are delirious. Seokjin is merely admiring your body with his eyes, butl your arousal continues soaking your panties. You grind your hips again, desperate to feel his hard cock. You wriggle your wrists, and he adjusts his grip on you so that you can link your fingers with his.

“My baby is so horny, hmm?” He chuckles in fake amusement. “Want to wet my jeans so much, do you?”

You let out a series of yeses amidst your panting. You rock your hips, angling your pussy so you can rub your clit against his denim-covered bulge.

“That’s it, baby,” Seokjin encourages you, “ride me till you cum.”

“Oh god,” you squeal as you feel your orgasm building up, “oh god… Daddy!”

You ride him harder, and you wriggle your wrists free. Your hands immediately latch onto your lingerie clad breasts, squeezing them so tight till it hurts, while your lower body continues to rock in Seokjin’s lap. 

“Fucking hell, look at you so lewd and loud,” he chuckles darkly. “So desperate to cum, aren’t you?”

You nod your head furiously.

“So cum, baby. Cum for your daddy.”

His words are all it takes for your dam to burst. Your jaw drops open as heat engorges your body, from your core traveling up to your head, rendering you breathless and motionless. Amidst the explosion, you feel the bra of your lingerie set being ripped off of your body, and Seokjin descends, almost aggressively, to your freed tits.

His strong hands hold you up when you just want to melt into his hard chest. He sucks, nibbles, gropes to his heart’s content as you recover from your orgasm. 

“You’re shaking, baby, you cum good?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe out, wincing when he sucks and pulls on your nipples more roughly.

“You look so good cumming for me. Wanna see it again.”

Before you can tell him to give you a breather, he flips you over till you are lying on the sofa. He stands up, towering over you, running his fingers over your body. You realize then he is still fully clothed, and you notice the wet spot on his crotch. 

Seokjin follows your line of sight and taps your chin. “Look how you made it wet, baby. I bet your panties are ruined.” You turn to hide your face but he spreads your legs open and tuts at what he finds. “You’ve soaked your panties. You dirty, dirty girl.”

You mewl, you can feel the satin material of your panties stick uncomfortably to your pussy.

“So wet,” he continues, “I bet my fingers will slide right into your little pussy.” 

Your eyes returned to the wet bulge on his pants. You reach to him shyly, palming his erection. “Daddy…”

“Hmm? Baby wants cock now?”

You nod, your body writhing from a new wave of arousal. Your mouth waters at the thought of sucking Seokjin’s cock. He steps closer to your head and your mind reels from the anticipation, but instead of taking his cock out for you, he manhandles you again until you are positioned upside down on the sofa- your head dangling on the edge of the seat, while your lower body is propped up against the back of the seat, your legs open and hanging over.

Blood rushes to your brain and you internally panic. “Seokjin,” you call out to him, worry laced in your voice.

“Relax, baby,” he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out, stroking it lazily. “This way you can suck me while I play with your wet pussy.”

You try to process what he has just said, but your mouth opens automatically as his cock comes to your vision. He praises you as he slides it in, until the head hits the back of your throat. You gag so he withdraws, before he goes in again, forcing himself a little deeper this time. 

“Good girl, taking daddy’s cock so well,” he caresses your cheek, “you’re gonna take it all, yeah? Relax your throat, baby.”

You close your eyes. Your jaw is aching already but you force your mouth and throat to adjust to his girth and length. 

“That’s a good girl,” Seokjin moans above you as you swallow more of his length. He rains praises on you as you take him more, determined to deep throat him. “You feel so good, baby, fuck!” He reaches down to your breasts and squeezes them, holding onto them as he starts fucking your throat. You gag again but he ignores you, making you open yourself more to take him. 

Saliva pools in your mouth, and you choke, needing an outlet for the liquid before it goes up your nose. Seokjin relents a little, giving you a small window to let your saliva seep out, rolling down your face to mix with the tears from your eyes. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your nose, and despite the constraint you are in, you feel feverish with wanton lust.

Even more when you feel his fingers pulling your panties aside. Cold air assaults your clammy pussy, giving it some relief, but not for long as Seokjin pats your pussy roughly with his fingers, making your body jolt.

“Let’s see how tight you are,” he inserts a long finger  and your walls clench immediately at the intrusion. He hisses at the tightness and adds another finger. You moan around his length. Seokjin fingers you hard and fast, scissoring you open. “Fucking tight cunt. My cock is gonna split you open, baby.”

You clench again at his words. He chuckles, “You like that, don’t you? You want Daddy’s big cock to stretch you out?”

As a reply, you moan again around his cock and your pussy pulsates around his fingers. He curses, “Fucking pussy sucking me in!” He fingers you faster, until the squelching sound fills the room, mixed with your moans and his. Then without any warning, he yanks his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit harshly. He presses his body down and continues fucking your mouth, trapping you underneath him. You grip his ass, holding on for dear life as you suck his cock, and his fingers urgently pull another orgasm out of you.

Seokjin pulls out of your mouth when your legs start shaking, allowing you to scream his name as another tsunami of pleasure washes through you. His fingers do not relent, however, eager to prolong your orgasm as much as possible.

“Fuck… Daddy, please… no,” you push his fingers away once you are able to collect yourself, and Seokjin does as you ask, only after he snaps your panties back in place, making you jerk from oversensitivity.

He leaves you in your position, upside down on his sofa, as he watches your body come down from its climax. He makes a show of licking his fingers clean of your juices, and you cannot believe how your body responds so quickly after your orgasm. You are hungrier than before. 

Your hand goes to his cock, your fingers wrapping around it, still damp from your saliva. “Daddy,” you mewl, desperate need in your voice. “Want your cock, please…”

Your sugar daddy smiles mockingly at you. “You just had my cock in your mouth, baby. That’s not enough?”

You whimper at his teasing. You want to be greedy. “Want your cock in me, daddy, please.”

“You sure, baby? Your pussy can barely take my fingers.”

“Daddy!” You whine, your hand stroking him with more determination now, while your other hand slides under your ruined panties. Seokjin’s eyes widen at your action. “Please, daddy, I can take you, please.”

Seokjin pulls your panties aside again to see two of your fingers pumping desperately in and out your pussy.  He watches you intently, trying to stay in control, but you feel his cock twitch in your hand. You tighten your grip on him.

“Daddy, it’ll be so nice and tight for you,” you insert a third finger, eyes rolling back at the stretch. “Ah, daddy, please fuck me!”

His cock twitches again, so you finger yourself harder. You chant your nickname for him, begging him to replace your fingers.

“Fuck me, please daddy, my fingers are so small, I need your big cock, please!” You watch him through your lidded eyes, your vision getting hazier with lust overtaking your body yet again. Never in a million years did you think you would be able to act and talk so lewdly, to be so shameless before a man, but Seokjin, in more ways than one, has changed you, and the tension from the past three months has eroded all your decency. You are so horny for him, you just want him to use you as he likes.

Seokjin grips both your hands, removing them from his cock and your cunt. He maneuvers you again so that you’re seated upright, then he undresses fully. You take the time to recalibrate yourself after being upside down for so long, while also watching his toned body being revealed. 

He sits down and motions you to get back on his lap. “Face the front,” he instructs, and you dumbly obey, your body following his orders naturally. His large hands engulfs you, kneading and molding your flesh, and you surrender yourself fully to him.

“You beg so sweetly, so I’m gonna give you what you want, baby.” He whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He places your legs on either side of his, and then he spreads them, opening you up and keeping you open. 

“My panties,” you breathe out, wiggling as the fabric of your underwear bunches up against your slit.

“Keep them on. You look so slutty with them on.”

Seokjin pulls the panties aside and lines his cockhead with your hole. You grimace as you feel it bullying itself in, gasping in pain as your pussy is stretched to the limit.

“Told you it’s not gonna fit,” he chuckles against your cheek, licking the tears that have escaped your eyes.

“It will fit, it will fit,” you chant to yourself. Despite the stinging discomfort, you are already addicted to the feel of his cock splitting you open. You sink down, slowly but surely, and when your pussy finally swallows him whole, you are nearly hysterical from how good he feels inside you.

“Fuck, baby, so tight and so warm,” he hugs you from behind. 

“So big, daddy,” you pant. You reach down to your lower abdomen and rub your skin there, feeling for the bulge. “So big and so good.”

“My petal, my girl,” Seokjin pulls your face towards him to kiss you sweetly, as if he is so proud of you for taking all of him in. “My good, good girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck you good now, okay?”

“Yes, daddy, please.”

“My good girl deserves to be fucked silly, hmm?” His hands rest gently on your breasts. You sigh your agreement into his kiss. “Put your hands behind my neck, baby, and keep them there, okay?”

You grip the back of his neck. 

“Good girl.” 

He starts pounding into you hard and fast without any warning; the air from your lungs is knocked out so suddenly that you let out silent screams as his cock reaches new depths inside you. You hold on to his neck tightly, not wanting to disobey him, so your fingers dig into his skin there, which makes him hiss and go even faster. 

“So fucking tight, so fucking wet! Been thinking about this pussy for so long. Fuck, you feel so good. Tightest pussy I ever had.” Seokjin spits each comment with every hard thrust. 

Your body is jostled around, bouncing wildly on top of him. When you finally find your voice, you cannot even string any coherent sentence. You are literally being fucked dumb by him. And you revel in it, in the way your tits are slapping against his open palms, in his heavy breathing on your neck, in the sounds of skin slapping against skin, so loud in your ears that it adds to your arousal. 

“Gonna cream my cock, baby? Gonna let me cum in you? Fill this tight pussy up?”

“Oh god, yes! Yes!” You squeal your answer, and squeal even more when his fingers find your engorged bud. He rubs it almost brutally, vigorously drawing your orgasm closer. “Daddy, daddy, please! Oh fuuuck…”

The pressure is getting too much, and you frantically seek for something to hold on to. You find his hair and you clutch onto it tightly as you feel the explosion nearing.

“Daddy, oh, fuck, daddy!” 

“Fuck, that’s it, cum for daddy, come on!”

Your core explodes, and you feel like your soul has left your body, floating and basking in the climax of your pleasure, while your body seizes up, your pussy clamping down painfully tight around Seokjin’s cock, making him lose control and spurt into you. He pumps his hips up a couple more times, emptying himself to the last drop, before sinking into the sofa, pulling you with him.

“Fuck, that was amazing.”

You blink your eyes open. Now that your mind is cleared of lust, your insecurity creeps back in. “Did I do good?” you ask meekly.

Seokjin answers you with a searing kiss. “Did so well. My good, good girl.”

Your heart soars at his praise. You rest your body on his, his hands still secure around you, and you feel so blissed out, so safe, you just want to fall asleep in his arms.

“Petal, do you have any plans tomorrow?”

His question brings you back. You quickly run through your schedule in your head. “No, none, why?”

“You’re staying with me till Monday,” he lays you down on the sofa, his body still connected to yours. Your heart starts racing again. He pinches a nipple and you squirm, clenching your pussy. “My girl is so insatiable, hmm?” He bites and sucks on your breast. You clench again. “Keep clenching around my cock, baby, make me hard again.”

It does not take long at all. 

Surprisingly, you feel pretty good, you might even say you’re glowing, despite the very little sleep you got over the last 2 nights, and the soreness in your limbs and your pussy. You wonder if people around you can tell that you have just spent many, many hours being fucked to oblivion by a very big cock belonging to a very hot, very sexy man. 

You get to class, and gingerly sit down at your usual seat in the back corner of the room, trying to be as invisible as you possibly can, staying out of your classmates’ attempts to make small talk. You wriggle a little to alleviate the soreness of your sex, but all it does is remind you when you sat on Seokjin’s face, wriggling while he ate you out until you were a crying mess. You immediately slap your cheeks to stop your mind from wandering too far into the details. Luckily, your phone dings and breaks you from your reverie. You nearly drop it though, when you see how much he has deposited into your account.

You do a quick calculation- you have enough to pay off a sizeable chunk of your parents’ gambling debt, three months worth of rent, and even the university fee for next semester. You cover your mouth in shock. 

Another ding from your phone arrives, and with a trembling hand, you open the next notification.

KSJ >> Booked you an appointment this afternoon at Mikrokosmos Spa. Enjoy yourself, my sweet petal. I’ll see you Friday night.

PS: Tada! Hope you enjoy this fic. I'm excited to set this series out and in motion, to see how this couple navigate their new dynamic... especially with OT7 in the horizon, hmm?

If you enjoy reading this fic, it would mean the world that you reblog it so that it will reach a wider audience. Come talk to me in the comments or send me an ask! As always, thank you for reading! 💜

“He’s eye fucking you.” Your friend said into your ear as the band came back on stage for their finale.

“Is not.” But you knew he was. He was looking at you again already as he sat down on the stool behind his drum kit.

Big, veiny biceps gripped the drumsticks in his hands, slinging them around between his fingers effortlessly. You watched as he pushed the blue hair off of his forehead once more before the song started and he became immersed in the music. He was a sight to see.

“Whatever you say.” Your friend teased and you elbowed her side in hopes of making her shut up while you enjoyed the last song of the night.

Any small ounce of hope you had that the sexy drummer was going to pull you backstage after the show was quickly doused when the lights came on and the venue staff was ushering everyone outside. You wanted to punch yourself for even thinking it was a possibility. He was somewhat famous. He could have whoever he wanted, why on earth would he want you?

“I’m far too tired for any parties.” You tell your friend who has been tirelessly trying to convince you to go to the bars downtown. “You should call Mina or Cher, I’m sure they’re already there.” She pouts but finally agrees to let you head home to sulk.

You pull your jacket a little tighter around your body as you walk past some shops and restaurants. They’re all mostly closed at this point in the night, but some of the displays in the windows are comforting to see.

Dexters Diner comes into view just up ahead, the yellow lights on top flicker in and out as you get closer to the small building. You could suddenly smell coffee drifting into your nostrils, and without a second thought, your hand is on the door handle of the diner, pulling it open.

There’s hardly anyone inside. A few tables of rowdy drunks from the bars and a few night shift workers having their first meal of the day. You smile at the older woman behind the front counter who’s wearing a pikachu tshirt and her hair in braids.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” She says as you sit down on one of the stools.

“Coffee. And maybe one of those cinnamon rolls from the case, please?” You take off your coat when she nods and heads off to gather your order.

This is just what you needed to wind down. And in most cases coffee would do the opposite, but you know the warmth of it will make you sleepy in no time.

You smile again when she sets down the chipped coffee cup and oversized cinnamon roll in front of you. The two things together smell like absolute heaven. You breathe it all in once more before picking up the cinnamon roll and bringing it to your mouth for the biggest bite you can manage.

“What are the odds?” A voice says behind you, making you freeze mid-bite. You turn around, cinnamon roll still in your mouth to face the voice.

Oh no. Please no.

Blue haired drummer boy is standing right in front of you in all his beautiful glory.

“H-hi.” You mumble, realizing you have the huge cinnamon roll in your mouth, your eyes shoot open wide and you quickly scramble to turn back and sit the pastry on its plate and wipe your mouth.

“You’re adorable.” He says, his hand gently touching your shoulder and turning you back around to face him. “Didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“Here I am.” You say stupidly, internally facepalming.

“Here you are.” He smiles and tilts his head curiously. “I’m Jungkook. What’s your name, cinnamon roll?”

“It’s _____. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.” You can’t believe this is actually happening.

“How’s the coffee?” He asks, sitting down on the stool next to you.

“Good I think. I haven’t actually drank it yet.” You turn back to face the counter, taking the coffee cup in your hands.

“Don’t let me stop you.” Jungkook slides his leather jacket off his shoulders, revealing a clean white shirt underneath, the sleeve of tattoos looking so stark against the white of the shirt.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you started talking to rockstar Jungkook, but it wasn’t this. The conversation was flowing so nicely. He was surprisingly funny and full of all kinds of useless facts. The kind that were so ridiculous that they were interesting. He seemed sweet surprisingly…sweet.

“Did you know it takes 700 grapes to make just one bottle of wine?” Jungkook says, popping a grape into his mouth from the fruit bowl he had ordered.

“You don’t say?” You start to laugh, but then feel one of Jungkook's feet rub against yours. Was he playing footsie with you?

You take the hint, crossing your legs and letting your foot glide up the side of his calf. You can tell he’s pretending not to notice, but the tattooed hand that was resting on the countertop is now ghosting over your own calf.

“Did you know a group of bunnies is called a fluffle?” Jungkook lets just his finger tips softly run over your knee.

“That doesn’t seem true.” It barely comes out a whisper. Your thighs squeeze together as he continues his touches.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks after he notices the change in your voice. You look at him blankly for a moment before responding.

“Y-yeah. I mean sure, what do you have in mind?” You sit down your coffee cup with a shaky hand. Jungkook stands up from his seat, then leans down to cage you against the counter, his mouth coming to your ear.

“Each and every thought I’ve had about you since the moment I saw you in the crowd tonight, have been completely improper. And I would very much like to take you to my hotel room so I can show you what I’ve been thinking.” His words melt into your skin and find their way directly between your legs where they start a burning need.

“Okay.” Is all you can manage to say, eyes fluttering closed when you feel his tongue brush the shell of your ear.

“Good girl.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, thousands of goosebumps blanketing your skin in an instant. “Let me grab my stuff and we can head out.”

The jeans he’s wearing must have been painted on and he could not possibly be wearing any underwear with them, which was breath stealing all on its own.

“Jesus Christ.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, but of course he heard you.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help the ridiculous giggle that escapes you.

“I’ve had worse views.” You try to play it cool, taking another drink of the coffee that was lukewarm at this point. Jungkook laughs, then pulls his sweaty blue hair up into a messy bun on the back of his head. It should not be legal to be this hot.

“Come on then pretty girl, I’ve got other views to show you.” He quickly puts on his jacket and offers you his hand. You let him help you up and into your jacket as well.

There’s a sleek black car waiting around the backside of the diner and the two of you slide into the back seat. You aren’t sure what to do, so you reach for your seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook reaches across you to stop your hand, suddenly in your space.

“Buckling my seatbelt? You know…safety.” You let him take your hand off of the seatbelt while he laughs.

“You’re adorable.” His eyes hold yours while his hand slips onto your thigh, gripping it tightly so that he can then slide you across the leather seat and closer to him. “But I have other ideas for the ride home.” You hope he doesn’t see how harshly you have to swallow, your throat feeling so tight.

“What ideas?” You let one of your hands rest on his thigh, touching the frayed strings of the tears in his jeans.

“First things first.” Jungkook places his pointer finger beneath your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Your cheeks heat up immediately. He’s so unexpected. He radiates that cocky rockstar vibe, but he’s also sweet enough to ask permission before he kisses you. The whiplash might be your undoing.

“Yes.” You instinctively lean forward and he meets you halfway with that angelic smile of his on his face.

His lips are too soft. Too perfect. But they mold to yours and steal the breath from your lungs. His presence engulfs you and takes over all of your senses. Right now, there’s nothing else but Jungkook.

Coffee flavored tongue swipes against your lips and you want to taste it again so badly, dipping your tongue into his mouth until he hums in satisfaction. His tattooed hand slides up your arm and onto your shoulder until it reaches your neck, his thumb sliding up and down the column of your throat.

“Tell me something, pretty girl.” His mouth stays close to yours, lips still brushing as he speaks. “How do you feel about my hand around your throat?” His words take you aback for a moment until you realize what it is he wants to do.

“I’m okay with it.” You wrap a hand around his wrist and move his fingers into place at your throat.

“You’re not so innocent, are you baby?” Jungkook smiles wickedly and swallows your reply with his mouth. Kissing you roughly, noses and lips smashing against the others, tongues licking sloppily.

Jungkook applies a bit of pressure with his hand on your throat, testing to see how much you like. It doesn’t hurt, it feels amazing. You take his wrist again pushing harder and with more pressure, his fingers tightening and gripping the skin.

“More.” You whine into his kisses until he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You’re getting me so hard right now.” You chance a look down at his denim covered crotch, eyeing the plentiful bulge forming there.

Of course his dick was huge, there couldn’t be any flaws with this man.

Jungkook begins tightening his hand again but doesn’t kiss you again. He wants to watch your face while he controls whether you take a breath or not. You swallow, barely able to get the saliva down your throat before your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. Jungkook moans and removes his hand, his mouth immediately devouring yours as you take in a long breath.

“You’re going to be so much fun.” Jungkook kisses down your neck, paying attention to the spots where his fingers just were. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You answered too quickly, but he seems to find it amusing, smiling and pressing a kiss to your lips once more.

Your pussy is absolutely dripping. You can feel the stickiness between your legs and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are after just a little breath play. What was going to happen once he was inside you? You shiver at the thought.

The car comes to a stop around the back of one of the nicest hotels in town. You’ve never stayed here, but you know this is where important people stay all the time. You start to feel the nerves creep back in at how famous Jungkook might actually be.

Jungkook opens the car door and starts to get out but notices that you haven’t moved to do the same.

“You know, I can have the driver take you home. We can stop right now.” He slides back into the car and brings your face around to look at him. “Because if you come upstairs I’m going to ruin you. I won’t stop until I’m convinced you’ve been so thoroughly fucked that you think of me every time you even think about being with another man.”

You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a feather light kiss to your jaw.

“I don’t want to stop.” You’re barely able to muster out the words.

“Good girl.” He laces his tattooed fingers through yours and helps you out of the car. You expect him to let go of your hand as you walk inside, but he doesn’t. He holds your hand until you reach the elevator.

Once inside and the doors have sealed shut, Jungkook pushes you against the mirrored wall. You gasp out loud when his hips roll against yours, the hard outline of his cock more prominent than before.

“So fucking hard.” Another harsh roll of his hips, almost lifting your feet off the ground. Your breathing is rapid and uneven, the anticipation absolutely killing you. “Tell me how wet you are, baby. Please.” The words pour into your ear, all warm and inviting.

“Soaked.” You manage to croak out. Jungkook groans and slowly rolls his hips so that his cock rubs against your clit that was begging to be touched.

Just as you’re about to beg him to touch you, the elevator dings and the doors slide open to the floor jungkook had selected. You suddenly realize that anyone could see the two of you and you start to move out of his hold. But he has other ideas.

Jungkook grabs beneath your thighs and hoists them around his waist, making you squeal in the process. He walks out of the elevator with you in his arms towards his hotel room at the end of the hall.

“Jungkook…put me down.” Your eyes shoot open wide when you notice an older couple walking towards you. “Jungkook!” You gently push against his chest but he doesn’t let go.

“You think they care if I’m holding you? They were probably crazy back in their day.” Jungkook squeezes the globes of your ass in each hand as you pass the older couple, they don’t seem to care but you still feel blush rush to your cheeks. “Should we ask them if they want to watch?” He wiggles his eye brows and you smack his chest.

“No way! Are you crazy?” You half laugh.

“Not into sharing? That’s cool pretty girl, you don’t have to share me with anyone.” Jungkook props you up against the hotel room door while he digs for the key card in his pocket.

“You can put me down.” You say again.

“Hmm. No.” He finds the card and opens the door, lifting you higher in his arms before he carries you into the room. You roll your eyes, but let him continue to do it.

You look around at the room when he finally sets you down in front of the unmade bed. There were two open suitcases in front of the window, clothes scattered about. Some empty beer bottles and ash trays sat untouched on the night stand on one side of the bed. Typical hotel room of a traveling rockstar.

What wasn’t so typical though, were the comic books laying around in the rumpled blankets on the bed. You tilt your head with curiosity and pick one up, gently flipping through some of the pages.

“You like to read comics?” You ask Jungkook, who has started trying to shove things into his suitcases.

“From time to time. Something to keep my mind busy on tour.” He shrugs a little as he roughly moves the suitcases around. You smile to yourself and sit the comic back down before turning to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need to do that.” Referring to him trying to clean up the mess in the room. Jungkook seems to listen, stretching his arms above his head before coming to stand in front of you where you sit on the bed.

“I need a shower. How about you, pretty girl?” His tattooed hand gently wraps around the back of your neck as he bends at the waist to be face to face with you.

“You want me to shower with you?” You realize how stupid it was to ask, but it was too late to take it back now. Jungkook laughs quietly.

“Amongst other things.” He smiles, lips the perfect color of pink, silver hoop pierced through the corner. “For example…” His hand slides up and around to your face, cupping your cheek and ghosting his thumb over your jaw. “I’d like to see your lips wrapped around my cock…fuck, that would be a sight to see.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and groans under his breath.

Jungkook stands up straight, but keeps his hand cupping your jaw, watching you as you think about what to do next. You keep your eyes on his for a moment, but then almost on their own, your hands find his denim clad thighs. You rub up the front of them a few times, but not touching his crotch that was getting harder by the moment.

“Be good, baby. Don’t tease me.” Jungkook sighs, thumbing at your bottom lip.

You take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his thumb instead, keeping your hands on his thighs. You suck his digit softly at first, tongue licking the length of it. You’re practically drooling around his thumb in anticipation of having his much bigger cock in your mouth.

Your hands move up his thighs to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them both. When you bring your eyes down to his waist, you can see that your earlier assumption of Jungkook not wearing any underwear was indeed correct. Fuck, he was too hot.

Just as you’re about to pull his jeans off of his hips, he stops you, and instead leans back over to kiss you roughly.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when your lips part from his with a wet smacking noise.

“Shower first. I’ve been sweaty, baby.” He kisses you again, almost making you fall back against the mattress with its force. He makes you absolutely dizzy with lust. “Come with me?”

“You want to shower before sex?” You ask.

“We can take one afterwards too, if you want.” He smiles and helps you up off of the bed.

You follow Jungkook to the bathroom, stupidly nervous. He was going to see you naked one way or another, why did this feel so strangely intimate? Too intimate for a one night stand.

There’s an ashtray with some half smoked joints sitting on the bathroom counter, along with some hair products and skin care type things. You’re almost too distracted to notice Jungkook pulling his shirt over his head.

“Do you smoke?” He asks.

“I have…it’s been awhile.” You watch as Jungkook picks up one of the joints and puts it between his lips.

“Nothing better than a shower joint. Except maybe a shower beer.” He laughs and digs for a lighter in his pocket. Once he’s retrieved it, he lights the joint and takes a very long drag.

“Can you smoke in here?” You ask, knowing you must sound so cringey for asking. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and holds the joint up to your lips.

“It’s blueberry haze. One of the best strands I’ve had.” Jungkook lets you take the joint, then casually shoves his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of the denim and kicking them to the corner.

“Blueberry haze, you say?” Your words are distracted by his naked form. Broad chest and big arms. Tiny waist and…really big dick confirmed.

“Give it a try, pretty girl.” Jungkook watches as your eyes make their way back to his face, blinking so adorably.

You refocus your thoughts long enough to bring the joint to your lips and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs and makes you cough, immediately handing it back to Jungkook, who rubs your back soothingly while you catch your breath.

“That’s…kind of strong.” You struggle to get the words out.

“You’re not naked enough.” Jungkook touches the hem of your shirt at your hip.

“Being naked helps with smoking weed?” You raise a questioning eyebrow, already beginning to feel it’s effects.

“I like to think so.” Jungkook slowly drags your shirt up and over your head, being delightfully met with the sight of your bare chest. “I’d love to have my mouth all over these.” Your shirt is long forgotten and so is your shyness.

“Why don’t you?” You take a step up closer to him, barely hearing the groaning noise he makes.

“Get these off.” He sticks his pointer finger just inside the waistband of your jeans, pulling at the material until it softly snaps back against your skin. You obey far too willingly, the blueberry haze in your mind making you feel extremely pliant.

You remove your jeans and underwear in a quick motion, kicking away the clothing and immediately reaching for Jungkooks skin, touching his shoulders and meeting his eyes with yours.

“You kind of look like a blueberry…a beautiful blueberry.” You giggle, fingers toying with the strands of his blue hair. Jungkook giggles too, big arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He kisses you a few times, then moves your body back towards the shower door. “Let’s get you wet.” He whispers into your mouth. You want to tell him that you’re already dripping wet between your thighs, but instead you step into the steamy shower with him right behind you, closing the smoky glass door.

The hot water immediately hits your skin and makes your muscles relax. You almost forget for a moment that a beautiful man is also in here with you, until his hands are on your hips and turning you around to face him.

“Don’t you need to get cleaned up?” You ask, Jungkook's hands sliding up your wet skin to cup your breasts in his hands. You whimper, not realizing how desperate you were to be touched.

“Mmm, I do.” His thumbs flick over your nipples, and then his touch is gone, making your eyes shoot open.

Jungkook is taking another drag from the joint, breathing it in deeply and holding it in his lungs. He grabs the back of your head, fingers gripping your wet hair and pressing his mouth onto yours. You feel the smoke slowly creep from his mouth into yours. You breathe it in like he wants you to, then let it out through your nose so that you can keep kissing him.

“I think…I think you should get cleaned up…quickly.” You say between kisses and strokes of his tongue.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Jungkooks mouth travels from your lips to your jaw, nipping with his teeth as he goes.

“Can I show you?” The high you’re on is making you feel so bold.

“Please.” He pecks your lips and pulls away from you, he knows what you want.

You put a hand to his chest between his very defined pecks, sliding it between the muscles and down over the hard planes of his stomach until you reach his cock, hot and hard in your hand. You watch his face for any dislike, but he only put his hand over yours and makes you tighten your grip.

You don’t want to waste time, you want to hear him fall apart with his cock down your throat. You lean forward and lick one of his nipples, sucking it gently. Jungkook lets his head fall back against the shower wall, pulling his pierced lip between his teeth.

You lick up some water drops on your way down his body. His perfectly sculpted body that you most certainly take note of, gently getting to your knees in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes one more time before opening your mouth to take his cock inside.

Jungkook hisses through his teeth when you start to suck. Gently at first, short, shallow motions as you bob your head. You look up to see the muscles of his stomach tighten over and over the deeper you take him. It’s when you add your tongue that he really starts to make noise above you.

“That’s so good, baby. Keep going, just like that.” Jungkook touches your jaw and your cheek his fingers, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You let him start to move his hips and thrust into your mouth and throat. You gag a couple of times, but you don’t want him to stop. The pretty moans and whimpers he’s making are too perfect to stop, so you dig your nails into the backs of his thighs and hold on for dear life when he starts move faster.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Jungkook smoothed back your hair and brought your face up so he could see your eyes. The eye contact seems to do him in. “Shit, shit, baby. Gonna cum…” He throws his head back in a long drawn out groan just as hot spurts of cum start to fill your throat.

You close your eyes and take everything that he gives you, slowing the motions of your head bobbing until he’s done, lazily licking the tip of his cock until he stops you.

“Was that okay?” You look up at him innocently, knowing that he’s wrecked at the moment.

“You’re fucking perfect.” His head is back against the shower wall as he laughs quietly.

You start to feel the ache in your knees, quickly wiping your mouth with your hand before you feel Jungkook wrap an arm around your waist to help you up. He smiles, then grabs some soap from the shelf behind you and scrubs himself clean with it, all you can seem to do is stand there in awe.

The desperation to be touched was becoming almost unbearable, but you try to keep your composure, letting Jungkook turn off the water and hand you a white fully hotel towel to dry off with. You both quickly take another drag from the slow burning joint on the counter, then move back into the bedroom area.

Jungkook has his white towel ties low on his slender hips. He’s walking around the room as if he’s looking for something and you aren’t sure what it could possibly be.

“Did you lose something?” You ask, taking a few steps closer to him.

“I had a necktie that I wore to dinner last night…” He tosses some things around in his suitcases.

“What do you need a necktie for?” The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up. But it suddenly dawns on you what he might be wanting to do with the necktie. “Oh…”

“Are you comfortable with that?” Jungkook gets down on his knees in front of the bed, flipping up the blankets and bed skirt to look beneath it.

“It would be…new, for me.” You tighten your hold on the towel wrapped around your body.

“All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will. No questions asked, if you don’t like it.” Jungkook reaches under the bed and pulls out a red necktie. “Found it.”

“Yeah…I can try it.” You nibble on your bottom lip and nervously cross the rest of the space to the bed.

“So good for me.” Jungkook closes any remaining space between the two of you and kisses your waiting lips. His kiss draws out all the nerves and turns them into lust. “Lay down with your hands above your head, wrists crossed.” The smallest bit of authority in his voice makes your pussy ache in such a delicious way. “And get rid of this.” He undoes the loose knot of your towel and lets it fall to the ground around your ankles.

You let him gently touch your bare hip before he’s moving to the other side of the bed. He watches intently as you climb onto the oversized bed, laying your head on the fluffed pillows with your arms above your head and wrists crossed, just as he asked.

“I’m ready.” You release a long breath, eyes coming back to Jungkook, whose eyes are shamelessly roaming your naked body.

“I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Jungkook says, wrapping and unwrapping the silky red material around his knuckles. “But I’m ready to have a taste of you.”

You shiver, watching as Jungkook kneels up onto the bed, raising his hand above your body and letting the silk tie just barely ghost over your skin. He starts at your ankle, moving it up your calf, over both thighs and purposely avoiding the ache between your legs.

“Please hurry up, Jungkook.” Your body arches away from the mattress when the silky material brushes over one of your nipples.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Jungkook coos, having mercy and wrapping your wrists up into the tie, attaching it to the headboard. “If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to be patient.”

You can barely take your eyes away from the sight of his naked body, until his mouth is suddenly on you. His mouth and tongue are having absolutely no mercy on your breasts and nipples. He groans each time he pulls a bud between his lips. The tie around your wrists is a torture you didn’t know that you needed.

“Jungkook…” You moan his name and he absolutely adores the sound of it. So much so, that he takes mercy and moves his body down the bed and settles between your thighs, his mouth quickly buried between them. “Oh fuck…” You pull at the binding, wishing your hands could lace into the blue strands of hair bobbing between your legs.

The mercy you thought you were receiving before is long gone. Jungkook is relentless with his tongue and lips. Long strokes of his tongue offset by quick sucks to your clit. It’s absolutely maddening.

You’re pulling at the tie so hard that you know you’ll have bruises on your skin in the morning. But the thought of it quickly passes when you feel Jungkook bury his mouth in your pussy, his nose brushing your clit as he moves his head back and forth in quick succession. You manage to look down between your legs just in time to meet his lust filled eyes, seeing him devouring you sends you over the edge hard and fast.

White flashes pop in and out of your vision as your body tries to recover from the insane orgasm you just experienced. Jungkook hums low in his chest as he licks up everything you’ve given him, kissing the insides of both your thighs as he stands up from the bed to look down at you.

“Do you think that you deserve my cock?” Jungkook stands at the end of the bed, tattooed hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You pant and squirm against the satin sheets, hands and arms still above your head. He watches your face carefully.

“The things I want to do to you…” He bites into his bottom lip as he continues to touch himself in front of you. “But I have to get my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours before I explode.”

Your chest heaved up and down at the thought of him finally fucking you. You were so desperate that you knew you would do anything he asked of you.

“Can you please untie me now?” You needed to touch his body…his skin…his muscles….feel his hair. All of it.

“Look what you do to me, pretty girl.” He ignores your request, making you whine at the lack of attention to what you wanted, but also at the way he’s spreading pre-cum up and down the length of his cock.

“I want you so badly, Jungkook. Please.” You move your hips up as he climbs back onto the bed and kneels between your open legs. His eyes saunter down your body until they get to your pussy, big hands pushing your thighs further apart so he can get a better look.

“You’re so wet. Thinking about my cock made you drip like this?” He scoots closer, the head of his cock so close to where you want it. You pull at the tie on your wrists again.

“Untie me…please.” You beg again.

“Here’s what I’m going to do.” Jungkook ignores you again, making you want to cry. “I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going fuck you hard and fast. And I want you to tell me how good it makes you feel. Make sure the people in the room next door know how badly you wanted my cock.” Jungkook kisses your stomach and then your hip. It’s so gentle compared to the way he then reaches down and roughly grabs the globes of your ass, lining you up with his cock just the way he wants you.

“Please…” You can’t bear it anymore, the build up has been so intense you can feel tears start to leak from the corners of your eyes.

“Be loud for me.” Jungkook doesn’t wait anymore, he impales you on his cock, easily sliding inside with how wet you’ve become. But you still feel the ache of the stretch as you try to accommodate all of him at once.

You moan loudly, just the way he wanted. Pulling at your binds and cursing yourself over and over for agreeing to be tied up. Jungkook keeps his hands on your hips as he starts his ruthless pace.

You can feel sweat forming on your forehead already as your stomach begins to tighten with another orgasm. His perfect cock finds that spot inside you with ease and abuses it over and over again.

“Untie me…god Jungkook please…please.” Your face is wet with tears from pleasure as well as frustration.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you? I think I can do that.” He bends down to kiss your mouth, something he hadn’t done for what seemed like hours. While he kisses you, he moves one hand from your hip to the red silky tie on your wrists and pulls the knot free.

As soon as you feel it loosen, you rip your hands away from the head board and dig them into his blueberry colored hair, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper. Jungkook smiles at the desperation. He loves it in fact.

You move your hands down and let your nails dig slightly into his skin as he continues to piston his hips against yours. Jungkook groans at the feeling.

“Come here.” He practically growls, sitting up on his knees and bringing you with him. Your arms wrap around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, putting you in a somewhat riding position. Jungkook is able to fuck up into while on his knees, but keep you close. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His mouth is sloppy as it moves along your neck and collarbones.

“I’m going to cum again…you’re so deep.” Your mouth finds his, kissing him and breathing him in.

“You don’t need my permission, I want you to cream my cock. I want all of it.” Jungkook leans back on his hands, making the angle of his hips hit you even deeper than before. Your hands grip at his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he fucks you through another mind shattering orgasm. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.” Jungkook's voice breaks off in a moan as you clench around him over and over.

“Please cum, Jungkook. I need it.” Your body feels boneless, but you can feel how close Jungkook is starting to get to his own end. “You’re fucking me so well…but I need you to come.”

“Your pussy feels too good…gonna cum.” Jungkook buries his face in your neck and buries his cock as deep as he can get as he finishes inside you. You feel warmth full you up and drip down your thighs as his thrusts come to a halt.

You both stay still for a moment, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. Your fingers mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re okay?” He finally asks, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you.

“I’m great.” You laugh quietly. Jungkook smiles, then reaches behind his neck for your hands, bringing them around so he can look at your wrists.

“Does it hurt? They look like they might bruise…” His thumbs gently brush over your skin.

“I think I’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt now.” You watch him bring your wrists to his lips, pressing kisses up down each one.

“Do you want to sleep here?” He asks, softly lifting you from his lap and letting his softening cock fall from inside you, he looks at you concerned when you whimper.

“I can just…I can go home.” You scoot back on the mattress when Jungkook stands up from the bed. You didn’t want to overstay. You wouldn’t ever see him again, there wasn’t much point in staying.

“Are you sure? I can have my car take you home in the morning…or now. Whatever you prefer.” He then disappears into the bathroom and brings back a washcloth for you to clean up with.

“I’ll just get dressed.” You awkwardly clean up with the washcloth before heading to the bathroom to put it in the hamper and find your clothes.

You dress in a daze, but once you’re ready you back out into the room to find Jungkook in a pair of underwear sitting on the corner of the bed with his phone to his ear. You rub your hands on your thighs while you wait for him to finish.

“My driver is ready to take you home.” He pushes his blue hair back and tosses his phone onto the night stand.

“Thanks.” You continue to stand there without a clue what to do or say. “I’ll just…go.” You point at the door and start walking towards it.

“Wait!” Jungkook says just as you turn the handle. “At least leave me your number? If you’d be interested in seeing me next time I’m in town?” He grabs his phone again and crosses the room to stand with you. You wish you could stop the smile on your face.

“Sure.” You tap your number into his phone and hand it back. “See you around, Jungkook.” You kiss his cheek, but that is apparently not what he had in mind.

Jungkook grabs your chin in his tattooed hand and kisses you on the lips. It’s a kiss that tries to trick you into thinking that maybe he’s actually serious about seeing you again one day. It feels too complex.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’d like it if you texted me when you made it home.” He pecks your lips once more, then releases your chin and takes a step back.

You, sitting proud above him, bouncing wildly as he thrusted like a mad man chasing his- and your- next orgasm. Your nails must have dug a little deeper, breaking his skin and leaving their marks. He doesn’t mind them, they’re easily concealed as long he doesn’t have to change in front of anyone for the next few days. 

He glances at the body next to him, occupying the side of his bed that is normally empty. Your body is covered fully with his blanket; you complained you felt cold as you were drifting to sleep after the pre-dawn sex, which he had woken you up for, and he procured the thicker comforter that you are currently all snuggled in with.

But he doesn’t have to look to know the purple marks he has left behind. On your hips, your breasts, your inner thighs, as easily concealed as long as you don’t get naked in front of anyone in the near future either. 

Yawning, he savors the late morning and the laziness that comes with no schedule, and more recollections of the night pop up in his mind. 

Your first orgasm, that opened the floodgates for many after. His surprise at how quickly he got hard again and again after you swallowed his seed and after he blew his load all over your stomach and breasts. Your sweet screams of his name. Your begging him to go harder and harder until he let himself lose control and simply pounded into you with little care. Your tears when he asked for one more, just one more, and the pride he felt when you gave him what he asked. And the sleepy sex you both enjoyed when the night was ending and dawn was breaking. The last blowjob you gave him, and the sweet sighs from you as he fingered your sore pussy and played with your oversensitized clit.

Yoongi rubs his face. His cock is asking for another round but he knows what he needs is a very, very cold shower. The night is over, the deal is completed and done, and he will not ask for more. 

He lets his body move on autopilot then. Bathroom to shower, then kitchen for some food. He decides he should make some lunch. Would you stay for lunch? He certainly hopes so. It doesn’t feel right to him to let you leave just like that. 

As he stir fries meat and kimchi, a new and unfamiliar beat enters his mind. No, not now, he can’t afford to be distracted. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of that beat- if he did, he’d lock himself up at his studio and he doesn’t want that, at least when you’re still here in his home. 

But his brain refuses to cooperate, pulling your moans from last night and fusing them with the beat. He dumps the rice into the pan and brusquely mixes it with the ingredients, trying to empty his mind. He spoons everything into a large bowl at the end, realizing he did not even taste his cooking. He sighs. 

He is staring angrily at the kimchi fried rice when he hears the water running from his bathroom. You’re awake. And the hybrid of the beat and your moans is getting louder in his mind. He decides to give in- just a quick one, so he can save it and work on it later. 

He doesn’t know how long he has spent on his laptop, but he looks up in surprise when he feels your presence near him. 

You are wearing a new set of clothes, not the same dress from last night. Your hair is tied into a bun, your face fresh with barely any make up on. Your overnight bag clasped tightly before you. 

Yoongi quickly saves the file and shuts his laptop.  He can see you shuffling awkwardly, waiting patiently for him to finish. 

“I made lunch, have some before you leave.” He says before you can say anything. You look like you’re about to turn him down, so he quickly adds, “You must be hungry, and I made too much for just myself.”

He gestures to you to sit, and you obediently do so, wincing a little as you adjust in your seat. 

Shit, he must’ve gone too far last night. “You’re hurting.”

“Ah, a bit sore but it’s okay.”

He stares at you. “I… I’m sorry. Is ther-“

You shake your head. “Yoongi, it’s fine. I’ll take a nice hot bath later and I’ll be okay.”

He isn’t convinced by your answer. You continue, “It’s okay, Yoongi. You didn’t hurt me.”

He exhales the breath he doesn’t realize he’s been holding. 

“The fried rice smells good. You really shouldn’t have gone through the trouble, I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome here.”

In other words, the sex part is over and you expect him to throw you out.  He scoffs. Not a chance. 

“Eat,” he serves you your portion. “ I hope it’s to your liking.”

You take a spoonful into your mouth and hum in appreciation, smiling at him as you daintily chew. He smiles back, still worried about your soreness, but he merely watches you eat in silence, while he picks at his own plate. 

Once your rice is almost finished, Yoongi clears his throat. 

“The money has been transferred, I’ll email you the transfer receipt.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Thank you for arranging it to be as discreet as possible. You really did your research for all this.”

A faint pink hue blossoms on your cheeks. “Well, privacy is important for me.”

“I truly appreciate it. And really, I mean it, you can do more than what you do now. You definitely have what it takes.”

“Are you offering me a job?” You ask teasingly. 

“You want me to check with my agency? I can put in a good word for you.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to put you in that spot.”

“You won’t, really.” 

“Thank you, but no,” you insist. “I’ll find another job on my own.”

“Okay. Well if you ever need some referral or anything…”

“I will let you know…” you rest your spoon and chopsticks over your empty plate. “By the way, I’ve deleted the website. I figured after last night, it’s a good time to end for dopegirl.com.”

It shames Yoongi that the first thing that comes to his mind is wanting to ask you for a copy of your video. He’s going to miss it, that’s for sure, but he has no right to ask. You owe him nothing.

“And I have to thank you,” you carry on with a small voice. “I feel like a brand new woman this morning.”

A laughter bubbles in your throat when he stares at you blankly. 

“It’s… freeing to surrender myself like I did to you last night. If that makes any sense.” 

Now Yoongi feels embarrassed. “I, uh, I’m really sorry. There are a lot of bruises and I’m really sorry about that…”

“I asked you for them. And you took care of me, made me feel safe.”

His cheeks are aflame, he hopes you don’t notice the sudden redness overtaking his face. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nod with a reassuring smile. ”I’m glad it was you who won the bid.”

“I’m glad too,” he mumbles, then he remembers something. Standing up hastily, he hurries to his study and searches for a business card. He finds it, and he walks back to you. 

“This is my real estate agent,” he explains, handing you the card. “He can help you look for a good place to buy. Let me know if you want to contact him, I’ll give him a heads up.”

You look at the card, then back at him. “Thank you.”

“He’s a good guy, he won’t do anything dodgy. I guarantee you that.”

You fold your lips, as if you are trying to stop them from trembling. “Thank you,” you repeat. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I just,” he takes a deep breath, “want to help.”

You take your purse out and slide the card inside. And somehow Yoongi knows that signals the end of it. He can’t make you stay any longer, as much as he wants to. This is it, his experience with dopegirl.com is done. 

He brushes off your offer to clean up and wash the dishes. Instead he walks you to the private elevator and after he presses the down button, he wonders if he should hug you goodbye. 

“Thank you again, Yoongi,” you say as you wait for the elevator. “The money is great but honestly, I woke up a different person today and it’s quite empowering. I know it probably makes no sense but really that’s how I feel. And I just… thank you.”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Yoongi decides to go for the hug. Wrapping you in his arms, he breathes in and smells citrus on you. You must have brought your own toiletries. He wishes he could bottle up your scent. 

“I know we’re supposed to delete each other’s numbers after, but I don’t mind if you want to keep mine.” 

You pull out of his embrace and look him in the eye. “Oh, well you can keep mine too if you want.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I better go now.”

Yoongi watches you walk into the elevator. You press for the lobby and wait for the doors to close. 

“Thank you again.”

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

The doors start moving. 

“Me too. Bye now.” You wave at him. 

Yoongi waves back, not moving away until you completely disappear behind the closed doors, until he sees the numbers on the display above the elevator keep decreasing until it reaches the ground floor. 

Letting out a sigh, he goes back to his laptop and searches for the file he was working on earlier. He saved it hastily then, but as is his habit, he named it based on the feeling he had at the time.

He double clicks on the title.

It’s gonna be hard to forget her

He takes a deep breath. Time to get to work.

A/N: Okay, honestly I didn't plan at all on writing a sequel to dopegirl, but a couple of my readers seem to be quite invested and it got me thinking- what if they met? So... here it is! I don't think these 2 will ever cross paths again in my universe, and if they did, they'd probably just nod and smile at each other. Hehehehe. As always, thank you so much for reading, and if you like this fic, please reblog it! Reblogging will help this li'l thing reach a wider audience Don't be shy and come shout at me too! Yours truly need attention.

"Neatly done." Yoongi lets you push him down onto the bed. He tries to secure the towel around his waist, but you slap his hand away and straddle him.

"The colors? I read the President installed an inky blue rug in his office."

Yoongi swallows, feeling your heat even through the terry cloth. "Nice shade of blue."

You lean forward, eyes boring into your husband's. His hands reach up to hold your waist. He hears your breath hitch a little.

"Did you see the Zuber wallpaper?"

"What?" He pulls your oversize shirt off and bites back a groan. You have gone braless and your nipples are already hard.

"It's in the Family Dining Room. Did you get to see it?"

"What? Uh," Yoongi can't think clearly, not when you have plastered yourself on his chest, kissing and licking his collarbones. "No, I don't think so."

You tut, chiding him. "I told you to pay attention to all those things."

"I did, I did, babe," he wiggles his hips, loosening the towel around him more. "Just... wait, I can't think!"

"The Rose Garden?" You murmur your next question to his skin, mewling a little when he cups your ass.

"Yeah," he pants, "... think so."

"Still those icy white roses?" You grind your core harder to his crotch, feeling him hardening beneath you.

"Yeah."

"Did you- Ah!"

You could barely ask the next question, for Yoongi flips you over and is now hovering above you. The towel is completely off, his erection hot above your panties.

"You're asking too many questions." He sits back on his heels, large veiny hands on your waist keeping you still.

You huff. "You know that building is on my design bucket li- ooh!"

Your panties are suddnely pulled off, your legs raised up in an erotic V in the air. And his tongue shoved inside you, reaching the depths to collect your juices.

"The stone..." you wreck your brain to find the name, amidst the carnal pleasure building, "... sandstone... Aquia Creek! Yoongi!"

He slurps and sucks for a few more seconds, then inserting two fingers to replace his wet appendage. "What about it?"

You look down at your husband, at his wet lips and chin. "Did... did you touch it?"

His free hand pulls back the skin over your clit, exposing it to his tongue. "Mmm hmmm." He grunts his answer.

"Oh fuck," your legs start shaking. "Fuck, Yoongi, tell me more."

His tongue leaves your nub, but his fingers move faster jackhammering into you.

"Damn, babe, you weren't this worked out when I went to Europe."

You blink, mind reeling from the almost-orgasm. "The... the... thing..."

He smirks at your state. "My tongue and finger got you dumb huh?"

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers out and uses your arousal to lubricate his cock. Panting, you welcome his weight on top of you, the head of his cock searching for your wet hole.

"Baby," he coos, "let me tell you..."

He trails off as he pushes inside you. Your walls welcome him eagerly. You wrap your legs and arms around him, wanting to feel him, all of him.

"... about the Schonbek chandelliers."

Your body shudders almost violently the moment the words leave his mouth, at the same time as his cock burying itself fully in you. He chuckles teasingly in your ears.

"Fuck baby, you're so worked up."

You can only moan in response.

"Gonna take you there hmm? Fly you out to DC," he raises himself only to put your legs over his shoulders. "Gonna take you on the tour then fuck you senseless after."

Your eyes fluter close at his words. His hips are snapping hard and fast, his cock splitting you open, determined to go as deep as he can get it to. You cry out when he leans down to roughly suck your nipple, and in your mind, you see it.

The crystal and gold hanging from the neoclassical ceiling, the lights sparkling with the sun rays that hit them, burning brighter and brighter as Yoongi's filthy words fill your ears, until you finally erupt.

A/N: ahem, just a little short one of my favorite couple... and if you're not familiar with this universe, OC is an interior designer (hence probably where Yoongi got all those design trivia in that sexy brain of his). AND... we all have screamed over all the WH photos and how much YG prob has geeked out there, soooo naturally, his lovely interior designer wife very likely geeked out even more too in more ways than one.... and thus this little drabble was born. OK bye for now, I still have a lot of WIPs to go through.

Like this fic? Pls reblog so it can reach a wider audience!

You squirm awake, opening an eye reluctantly to see dawn has not broken yet. Your first instinct is to plop over to your stomach and will yourself to go back to sleep, but then you feel it- two hands on your thighs pinning your lower body down, rendering you unable to move. Then you feel another thing- a wet swipe of tongue against your bare sex.

“Yoongi,” you moan sleepily, irritation of being woken up early slowly making way to another sensation altogether.

He moans in reply, mouth too busy between your legs, humming in approval of your taste. Your hand flails at a particular lick and flick, searching for his head. You only find a hard lump beneath the blanket you normally share with your husband, but you curl your fingers still, needing to feel him.

A groan vibrates against your sex when he feels your fingers lightly tugging his hair, and he quickens the assault of his tongue. You are leaking more and more, and he laps every single drop greedily. In the darkness under the blanket, he smells you and tastes you better, and he feels giddy. Sex has been at the back burner for a few months now, with his schedule picking up and you feeling especially tired now there are two young children to look after during the pandemic.

But Yoongi wants to be greedy this time round. He is leaving again, for almost three weeks, and he needs you. He needs to have you before he leaves.

He pulls you closer to his face as he feels your legs starting to shake. God, he can never get enough of you, the way your body shudders and vibrates when you orgasm, the way your cum flows into his waiting mouth.

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi!” you muffle your scream into your hand as you climax. You have always been a screamer, and it doesn’t feel as satisfying to both you and Yoongi when you have to quiet down for the sake of the kids.

Your husband kitten-licks you till you come down from your high, then kisses his way up your body, pushing your nightdress (aka his old t-shirt) up until it bunches above your breasts. You are still panting when he latches onto your nipple, sucking it lightly, knowing it is still sensitive from the breast pump.

“Morning, baby,” he greets you before he pops out of the blanket to nuzzle your neck.

You bury your fingers in his hair. “Why are you up so early?”

“Dorm,” he answers simply, not wanting to stop kissing and licking your pulse point. “Then airport.”

“What time?”

“3 now, gotta leave at five.”

“Too early,” you whine. “I want to sleep.”

“After, okay?” he raises himself above you to position his cock. You gasp when you feel his head at the opening, and you have to bite your lower lip when he starts pushing in.

“Fuck, baby, you’re tighter than before.” He exhales when he buries himself in you.

You wrap your arms around his broad(er) back and pull him down. You inhale his scent, cherishing it before he has to leave.

“Been a while,” you whisper to his skin.

Yoongi starts moving his hips, small little movements to get you adjusted to him, as well as to hold his own orgasm at bay. “Not gonna last long.”

“It’s okay.”

You feel yourself getting wetter, and he feels more comfortable with the extra lubricant now. His movement starts to be longer, harder, until he slams into you over and over again, the bed frame creaking underneath you both.

“Shit, baby, I can’t hold it back.”

“It’s okay, let go- no, wait! Condom, Yoon!”

“Shit shit shit!” he pulls out immediately and rolls over to his side of the bed, urgently pulling out a drawer from his nightstand to search for the contraception. He finds a packet, instantly ripping it open and rolling the rubber down his cock like his life depends on it.

You kick the blanket off of you completely, and Yoongi gets back between your legs. He pushes back in, and you whine again at the stretch. He pushes your knees back to your chest, holding onto them as he begins fucking you again, enjoying the increasing volume from your mouth and the tightening of your walls.

You turn your head sideways to scream into the pillow, his cock hitting so deep and so fast that the border between aches and pleasure starts to blur. Your body responds by clenching and unclenching  around him, in rhythm with his movements.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna, shit!” He collapses on top of you, pinning you down as he succumbs to his orgasm. You hug him as his body shivers, kissing him until his cock stops pulsating inside you.

When his breathing has recovered, he rolls you until you are both lying on your sides, facing each other while your bodies are still connected.

“Morning,” he greets you again.

You mumble a response, feeling cold in the absence of your blanket, but not wanting to let go of your husband yet.

“Tell the stylist not to cut your hair.” Your fingers have returned to the back of his neck, playing with his hair there.

“Okay.”

“And stop taking so many dilf photos.”

“Dilf?”

You playfully smack his chest. “You know what I mean. You’ve been basking in it since the concerts in Seoul.”

He hums.

“Only I get to see the dilf photos, okay?”

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” you pout. Of course you are jealous, what kind of question is that? “I can’t witness another Army twitter meltdown again.”

He laughs softly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when I’m leaving.”

“Tell your stylist to let you bring home that black shirt too.”

“Hmm? The one for Grammy’s?”

You nod, yawning. “Army would love seeing you in that. But I want to be the one peeling it off you.”

“Okay, baby. Go sleep now.”

You settle more comfortably in his arms. “Yes, daddy.”

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