#sub jk

Jungkook is faced with the dark screen of his open Discord DMs with you. Your icon sits at the top of his recent chats but it’s absent from the conversation.

His own stares him down at every attempt he’s sent out. It had started simple enough, greetings and invites to join a game once in a while. He cringes when he sees his words shift to the more desperate tries at catching your attention. He’d even said please and he knows how that’s your favorite word. He knows you’ve seen them, your icon flashing green to indicate you’re online and his heart beating against his ribcage hoping that maybe this time you’ll deem him worthy of a response.

But it stays quiet, as always.

His phone chimes to notify him of new Twitch activity. Audreonne is live! His eyes scramble to the time in the bottom left of his screen. Shit, he’s going to be late. 

He still manages to catch your introduction as he gets into chat. You had your stream schedule posted on your channel and he did what he could to jump onto Overwatch whenever he saw you playing, in hopes that he’d fall into a game with you again, but he’d had no luck so far. 

He’d tried to catch your attention in chat once but a follower of his had also noticed his message and the chat had flooded with messages about him. He’d seen the scowl that settled on your brow when you noticed your chat devolving into chaos. He hadn’t spoken publicly since, but still did his best to watch all your streams, arguably impressed with your skills in not only Overwatch but in various other games you showcased on your channel. 

He watches you get into the game, continuing with Skyrim this time as you were going through a Legendary run. In your first session, you had run straight to the Dark Brother to hunt down the weapon you were setting up your build around, Windshear, and made easy work of any enemies once your One-Handed and Light Armor skills were maxed out. 

Your chat had heavily suggested (i.e. backseat piloting ) for you to go for an Illusion Assassin build but you’d adamantly refused. “I like seeing the kill shots where I dismantle their heads from their bodies.” If hearing that ended up making Jungkook chub up in his pants, that was nobody else’s business but his own, thank you.

You were chatting casually with your viewers, taking recommendations on which quest to do next and which side of the war to support. You’ve never acknowledged his presence in your chat but sometimes you’ve let something slip that makes him believe you absolutely know he’s watching.

“If you kill Paarthurnax you’re dead to me.” Your eyes move to look straight down the camera and his brain whirs to bring up the memories of the last time he was subject to that stare. “I always respect some good restraint.” The lopsided grin that accompanied the remark sent his hand straight around his cock, squeezing to try and keep himself under control. He may be trying to keep his boner at bay but he’s not so lucky with the whimper that slips through his closed lips. 

Maybe you just don’t pay too much attention to Discord. You never stream with fellow gamers so you might not check it as often as he believes. Maybe you aren’t actually ignoring him. He opens a second screen and finds the whisper function. 

A chat window opens up with your name at the top. He can’t possibly come on too strong with just a hello, right? He sees his message appear at the top of the chat.

GoldenJK: hey (:

His attention goes straight back to your stream. You’re in the middle of juggling Voslaarum and Naaslaarum on the frozen lake of the Forgotten Vale when he sees your eyes flicker to something catching your attention on the second screen he knows you have to monitor the stream while playing. It’s quick enough for the two dragons to make you fumble in your attacks and drain a good chunk of vitality from your character.

“Motherfucker,” you mumble under your breath, almost imperceptible to your viewers. You pause the game as a breath of fire is just about to hit your Redguard in the face. “Sorry guys, I just need to fix a setting here that’s bothering me.” It only takes a second before you’re back in the game and both dragons are disintegrating in a shower of light as you soak up their souls. 

He goes back to the open conversation. Had you taken the time to answer him during that pause? There’s definitely something waiting for him in the chat, but not what he had hoped.

This user has turned on “Block Whispers from strangers” in their privacy settings and must start a conversation with you first.

Or maybe you are ignoring him.

Jungkook’s head falls onto his desk with a groan. He’ll have to think of something else in that case.

Fine, so getting your attention one on one won’t work but he can get your attention in a form you can’t ignore. It’ll just take some work but he’s committed. 

It takes some research on his part to see what brings in big viewer counts to stream and he’ll need as many as possible for this plan. He ultimately decides on a charity stream. He gets to execute his strategy to pique your interest and he can help a cause he cares about. It’s the perfect plan and everybody wins!

He sets up to work with Tiltify so stream donations can be sent automatically to his favorite animal welfare charity that supports non-kill shelters in cities with high stray populations. He’s ambitious in setting the charity goal to 100k, but he figures that 1$ for every subscriber he has should be attainable. 

He keeps a close eye on your stream schedule in case of any changes, even though you haven’t changed your streaming hours in years, as he finds out. He puts out the announcement on all his social medias to announce the stream start time while assuring that the 24 hours would end right in the middle of your scheduled Saturday session.

He’s all smiles and high energy when the day finally comes and his chat starts filling up with his regular crowd. He screens through the greeting messages, seeing a lot of comments saying they probably wouldn’t be able to stick around for the whole 24 hours but they are happy he is supporting a good cause and using his platform to bring awareness.

“No worries, guys! I totally don’t expect anyone else to suffer watching their screens for all this time like I am. Pop in and out whenever you want and see what’s going on. I have a rough schedule on my Twitter for times when each game will be played if you’re more interested in some rather than others. Make sure you come back right before it ends to see if we reach our goal! I got Bam from the local shelter in my city, and they were great at taking care of him and making sure I was set up to give him the best possible life, so I want to do what I can to give back in his honor.” 

Perhaps he also needed as many of his viewers active in chat when the countdown ended as possible, but they didn’t need to know that.

“We’re going to start with Overwatch while I’m at my most focused. Alright, let’s get it!”

Jungkook tries to hold back a yawn as the last hour starts ticking down. His desk is covered in opened energy drink cans, making sure to thank his sponsor every time he cracks a new one open. Jin had dropped him off something to eat midway through the stream when his friend had realized the empty bag of chips scattered around Jungkook had been his only sustenance throughout the project. His viewers might have enjoyed his hyung’s loud scolding from the outskirts of the webcam a little too much, but he’s grateful for the food.

His viewers had been enormously generous throughout the stream, and his charity goal currently read $92,515.50/$100,000 in the banner above his head. It probably won’t reach the full 100k but that is still a massive amount of funds he can provide to the organization, and he’s thrilled either way. 

He’d moved on to Stardew Valley, enjoying the quiet farm life to wind down the stream. It was hard to keep his eyes open at this point and he needed something that didn’t involve being on the lookout too much, but the soundtrack is softly lulling him to sleep. 

“Concerned Ape really did amazing on this music. Might just add it to my sleep playlist with how effective it’s being right now,” he jokes with his chat. 

He’s distracted by the countdown clock coming into its last 10 minutes and doesn’t notice chat frantically warning him that he’s about to miss Abigail’s birthday, only taking the time to check and read once he’s already safe in bed and the end of day money count from the shipping bin starts being displayed.

“Oh, no way! I totally forgot it was today. I had the amethyst in my inventory and everything. Man, my gamergirl wifey is just slipping through my fingers.” He throws his head back in a mock wail when the donation jingle brings him back. It’d likely be the last one of the night so it was a good time to countdown to the end of the stream with his viewers.

$10,000 donated by Anonymous

It takes a second for that to register before his mouth finally catches up to his brain.  

“Holy fuck! Was that a typo? Did you hit too many 0’s? Send me a DM and I’ll figure out how to get that sorted for you, dude.” 

He’s still freaking out as the countdown comes down to 0:00:00 signaling the end of the stream but he can’t enact the second phase of his plan without getting this settled first. Another jingle comes in.

$1,000 donated by Anonymous “No mistake. I like animals. Good job on reaching the goal.” 

His chat goes wild as the message confirms the massive donation responsible for getting him to the milestone. He’s out of his chair and screaming, grabbing his Doberman by the front paws and dancing with him around the room. Bam doesn’t understand what the sudden fuss is about but he happily bounces along with his owner. 

The viewer count is at the highest it’s been all stream, well over 50k as his final donation makes the rounds on social media which brings a ton of new viewers in to see the reaction.

“I can’t thank you enough, my guy. I’m so happy we hit the objective! These funds are going to save the lives of hundreds of animals in shelters across the country. I am truly speechless, wow.”

It takes a second for him to compose himself enough to close the games and enact the second part of his plan, the reason this all started in the first place.

“I’m going to do my last good deed of the day before I go knock out so if you guys can stick around just for a minute, I’d really appreciate it. We’re going to send all this awesome positive energy out to another streamer. Make sure you guys stay respectful in their chat, we’re keeping this supportive vibe across to the other stream, please. They’re a really talented player. They’re playing Mario Kart right now, but they are super well rounded and play every game style so there’s something in their channel for every one of you, I’m sure.”

This is it. He can see you’re streaming on your own channel, casually zooming past all other karts as you race down Rainbow Road. He can hear the telltale siren of an approaching blue shell about to blast you and he hopes his chat can make up for the hit. He clicks the button and they’re off as he signals his goodbye.

He watches you groan as the shell explodes over your head and stops your kart dead in its tracks when the message appears on your screen. 

GoldenJK is now raiding with 54,488 viewers!

“Woah, what’s going on in chat? Give me a second.” You’re pausing the game mid race to catch up but there’s no way to read anything as the raid messages flood through the chatroom. “Oh, a raid. Hi guys! From GoldenJK? He just ended his charity stream, right? I popped in, that was cool. Too bad he can’t keep his schedule straight enough on Stardew. RIP,” you laugh.

You knew he was doing the stream? You had watched it. The plan worked! He’d definitely caught your attention and he sits watching his screen like a moron with the biggest smile plastered on his face for another 20 minutes before you end your stream, taking the chain and raiding another streamer you knew well. 

A positive interaction, and a public one at that. His plan had worked flawlessly. He can go to bed happy. He’s about to shut down his PC when Discord rings with an incoming call. He thinks the exhaustion might have caught up to him but when your name is still being announced on his screen after he rubs furiously at his eyes, he’s quick to answer the call. 

“You’re a really persistent little shit, aren’t you?”  You don’t give him the opportunity to even greet you before you jump on him. He’d be upset if you weren’t so right. He did do all of this for the possibility of this moment after all. 

“You weren’t answering my messages,” he reasons. He keeps his voice low and eyes wide knowing damn well he can pass off as sweet and innocent. To anyone else maybe, but you’re too hard to manipulate. Your own eyes squint at his words, an eyebrow raising in defiance at his claim.

“Blowing up my Discord, camping in my streams, distracting my chat. You’re lucky I’m so nice. You weren’t rude so I called off my mods from banning you since you had changed tactics and kept quiet after you realized that wasn’t going to work. You got real close when you started whispering in the middle of a boss battle though. Really testing your limits. All that, and you didn’t think it might mean I wasn’t interested in talking to you?” you counter back.

“I mean, yeah but-”

“No buts. I guess our last interaction wasn’t enough to teach you some manners, kid.” 

Jungkook scowls at the insinuation. Not that he doesn’t have manners, he knows he acts out, but he always gets what he wants so why bother with politeness. “I’m not a kid.” He knows you know that, had first hand experience with just how grown he is. 

“Stop acting like one and maybe I’ll stop treating you like one,” you shrug. You don’t leave him any chance to latch on, simply brushing him off at every turn. He’s never had to chase after someone the way he does you. It’s infuriating, and inexplicably sexy.

“Kept you interested enough to watch my streams though,” he challenges. 

“Stream, singular. I keep track of charity streams. I suppose you could call me a philanthropist. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Couldn’t let the welfare organization suffer at the hands of your failure to meet the goal.” You’re so casual in the mention that it takes a second for your words to fully register.

“That was you? You just have eleven thousand dollars to throw around?” He can’t hide his shock. It’s no small amount of money to be dropping so easily. 

Your actions are calculated as you pick at your nails nonchalantly, shoulders rising and dropping, unfazed. “Let’s just say I don’t struggle with my streaming income. Maybe you’ll get there one day with enough patience, skills, and sponsors. Plus, I got my cat from a shelter so you got lucky and hit my soft spot.”

“Bamie’s from a shelter! He’s a rescue too.” He’s jumping to remind you that you have things in common. 

“Lots of people adopt from shelters.” Your eyes are rolling at his pitiful attempts but you’re here so you might as well find out what he was so adamant about. “What did you need my attention so bad for anyway?” 

Truth be told, Jungkook didn’t think he’d get this far, fully expecting to be faced with a blank screen and more silence. Obviously he knew why he needed your attention so desperately but he also knew you’d immediately drop out of the call if he tried to hit on you.

“Uh,” He’s grasping for an idea, any words to create an excuse for his actions. “Training!” Genius . “Look, I’ll admit you’re a better Overwatch player than me and since you’re also a Widowmaker main you know how to play her really well. I was hoping you could teach me?”

Both your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “Huh. That’s true, but I never expected you to acknowledge it. You have a whole team. I’m sure one of them can handle Widowmaker and give you some tips. It’s probably best for it to come from them since they’ll be more helpful for what will work within your established team dynamics anyway.” 

“They can’t!” he exclaims. “None of them really played around with Widowmaker since I was so insistent in playing her myself. None of them know her gameplay well enough. Plus, they wouldn’t push me like I know you would.” 

He’s giving himself away with that last bit of information and you both know it. His mind races to the last time you pushed him and he nearly sneaks his hand down to his cock which is hardening at the memory.

“I suppose I can figure out a training plan to help you out since I’m so generous. Give me some time to set something up and I’ll send you an invite link to log into a private game to give you the rundown.”

“No!” he cries out. “I can’t learn online. I failed all my remote classes at school, can’t focus. We’re both in the same city, right?” As if he didn’t know the answer already. He’d been on your social media for weeks, he knew very well that you were in his city but had nearly zero chance of crossing his path. It was populated by a few million people after all. “Can you give me some in-person training?”

You purse your lips, trying not to let the smug grin escape with a chuckle. “You sure are asking a lot. I’ll make you a deal - you ask me politely and sincerely, and I’ll consider it.” You lean into the back of your chair, arms crossing over your chest.

Jungkook might be short circuiting a little bit. You didn’t say no. All he has to do is ask. He can handle that!

“Can you come over and train me?” He’s met with silence and a dead stare. Just enough to remind him that he’s missing the most important thing. “Please?” he adds. 

He’s rewarded with a seemingly sweet smile that he knows hides a much more sinister story behind your pearly white teeth. 

“Such a good boy when you know your manners. Send me your address. Be ready at 7 next Friday. Make sure you clean up. I don’t want to walk into that room with it smelling like a basement, covered in cum-stained tissues.”

He doesn’t have the chance to defend himself and let you know that he obsessively keeps his apartment neat and smelling fresh, thank you very much, before the call drops and he’s faced with a dark silent screen and a lap screaming for attention. 

Jungkook might have overdone it on the cleaning to make sure his place was up to your standards. He had put on his alarm to wake up early and spent the day scrubbing at any surface he could reach. Would you see the top of his kitchen cabinets? Absolutely not. Did he make sure to grab his step stool and eliminate any speck of dust up there? Yes, he did. 

By the time he’s done, his clothes are damp with sweat and his head is dizzy from the overpowering lemon scent of his products. He opens up all his windows and turns on the diffusers in every room. His friends often told him he was excessive in the amount of air purifiers he had in his two bedroom apartment. Sorry if he’s sensitive to smells and wants to be able to breathe properly. He’s rushing to jump in the shower when he finally finishes and notices the time. You’ll be here soon and he stinks. 

He’s in a matching set of soft sweatpants and a hoodie, hands still furiously rubbing at his wet hair with a towel when the doorbell rings. His heart is in his throat knowing that you’re only a few feet away behind his front door. The doorbell rings a second time, breaking him out of the panic-induced freeze he’d been stuck in.

“Coming!” At least, he sure hoped he would be.

He’s steeling himself with one last deep breath before he throws the door open. He has his most charming smile plastered on his face and a warm welcome on the tip of his tongue. All of which immediately dries up and dies on his lips when he’s finally faced with seeing you in the flesh.

All your streams had you in comfortable clothes, soft fabrics and modest necklines but the woman on his doorstep is a vixen. His eyes are pulled down by a gravitational pull outside of his control. They pass through your hair hanging loosely around your face, pausing at the skin of your cleavage peeking through the low cut of your top, flesh straining against the right fabric across your chest. His gaze continues further down to the pleated skirt that ends dangerously high on your leg, letting a smooth expanse of skin catch his attention before it disappears into your thigh high socks. He’s hypnotized by the soft pudge that is created where the fabric of your sock digs into the meat of your leg. His mind is reeling and thoughts of bite bite bite are bouncing in his empty cranium. 

“You’re drooling.” It’s a reflex to bring his hand up to his mouth to check if a little bit of saliva had ended up pooling at the edge of his open lips, but it comes away dry. Just the start of the teasing he knows he’ll be subjected to. 

“I- uh, thighs.” 

The loud laugh that echoes around him finally breaks him out of his hypnosis. “Yes, very astute. Are you going to let me go inside or are you intent on giving your neighbors a show?” His brows furrow at your words until he follows your eyes down to his groin where his dick had started to press against his sweatpants, forming an embarrassing tent.

His hands are quick to cover up, cheeks heating in humiliation. Why is it always so easy for you to get a reaction out of him? You haven’t done anything at all and here he is, boner out for anyone to see like some horny teenager.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, voice quiet enough for it to only be heard between you. He gets out of the way to open up the doorway for you to come in, then closes the door behind you, making sure to check that nobody in the neighborhood had been privy to this shameful moment. 

“I swear I can control myself. I’m not some sort of animal.” It’s only once you’re fully in his living room, eyes drifting to every corner and taking in his space that he notices the black bag you brought along. “What’s in there?”

Your smirk is devious, inching slowly as your eyes darken. “Training materials, of course. You see, I figured out your issue. Your main flaw is your lack of focus and that’s because you’re not actually a gamer, you’re a streamer. You’ve programmed yourself to respond to distractions, like incoming subs and donations so you can reply and interact with your chat. It makes for a good influencer and entertainer, but breaks your skills for whatever game you’re playing.”

“So I have to practice staying focused and ignoring distractions?” he asks. You’re nodding in reply. “Okay, that makes sense. How are we going to do that?” 

There’s an evil twinkle in your eye as you drop the bag to the floor, bending down to rip it open and dig your hand in to pull out your so-called ‘training materials’ into his view. His heart beats a little harder as each item is divulged. 

He’s nervous, he thought he knew what he was getting into by getting you face to face but he should have known better than to think you wouldn’t continue to surprise him. His face goes pale when it dawns on him that the buttplug you pull out isn’t for you as you instruct him to turn around and bend over.

“What?” he asks, eyes wide. “I do the stuffing, not the other way around.” 

Your shoulders shrug, unconcerned, as you make to pack up again. “Alright then. I thought you wanted my help, but I can just go if you’re not going to take my training regiment seriously.” 

“No! I do! I’ll follow your lead.” A self-satisfied smirk is his only response. 

Which is how he ends up bent over his couch, face digging into the cushion, back arched and presenting himself like a bitch in heat. He won’t lie to himself and deny that the warmth of your palm rubbing circles over the curve of his ass isn’t soothing and causing him to melt further into stuffing of the sofa. 

He has almost forgotten the purpose for his position, head floating away into the feeling of your skin on his until the cold sticky feeling of lube dropping onto his hole wakes him from his daze, body stiffening.

“Shhhh, relax sweet boy, I got you,” you comfort from behind him. There’s gentle tight circles being drawn around his rim and he can’t tell if the shiver that courses through him is from the chill of the lube or your praises. A little bit of both, he supposes. You’re careful not to rush him, letting him release the tension before slowly but purposefully applying pressure into your touch until it breaches the tight ring of muscle.

“Ahh!” The noise that escapes him is uncontrolled. It doesn’t hurt and it’s not particularly pleasurable, just odd and unfamiliar. You give him time to accommodate the new intrusion before continuing to burrow until your finger is nestled deep and comfortable inside him. It’s a slow and teasing motion to thrust it out and back in again until it feels right to add in another, the stretch pulling more soft whines from his chest.

“You’re doing so good for me, darling. Just letting me use that tight little virgin hole, hmm?” Jungkook hasn’t been a virgin in years but the idea of allowing you to be the first to defile him in a way sends his brain buzzing. He can’t bring himself to reply with actual words, only incoherent noises falling from his lips as he lets you work. 

You start to pry your fingers apart, letting them stretch him open until he encloses your fingers in a comfortable pressure but loose enough to enact the next part of your plan. “I’m making you feel good, aren’t I? Isn’t this nice?” you ask, voice slipping into a teasing tone.

All he can do is frantically nod at your insistence. It does feel nice. He is starting to think he’ll have to add some fingering into his masturbating routine if it helps make his mind drift off like this. 

“Hold on to something,” is the only warning you give him before curling your fingers and giving a vicious push to tickle at a spot inside him that makes him scream.

“Oh God, FUCK-” His body is pulling away from your fingers, aching to run from the sensation that sends a jolt of electricity down his entire spine. Your free hand comes to grab at his hip and pull him back with a tsk.

“Don’t start acting up already. Grab at the couch if you need to but stay still.” His hands are reaching to grasp the meat of the cushion beneath him, teeth grinding down as you repeat the motion again, slower this time, trembles wracking through him followed by an obscene moan. “There we go. See? You just need to trust me to make you feel good, sweetling.” 

You’re right of course, you always seem to be, helping him discover parts of himself he didn’t know existed. He revels in the feeling, legs turning shaky under your touch, abdomen tightening. He can nearly taste his impending release before you cruelly rip your fingers away, leaving him clenching around empty air and choking on a sob.

“Did you really think you’d be able to sneak an orgasm past me? I do everything possible to make you into an obedient pet and you just prove how much you’re a brat at every turn.” You finish with a sharp spank to his cheeks, redding the skin under your strike.

“No, please! I’m good, I can beg like you like, please!” There are tears threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes at his ruined release, the tension previously building now slowly ebbing away. 

“Hmm, not good enough unfortunately. I’m not completely heartless, I won’t leave you empty.” 

There’s another loud squirt piercing the air and then a splatter of lube lands on his hole, sinking past the muscle that winks at the loss. There’s enough that it drips down to cover his balls, tickling his skin when it continues to flow along the underside of his shaft. He feels a hard pressure behind him again, thicker than your fingers had been. The plug nestles heavy inside him, the girth pushing at his walls but not angled to hit the spot you had been so intent on abusing earlier. It’s a comforting pressure but not enough. 

“What can I do so you’ll let me cum?” he pleads. Maybe he can bribe you into bringing him to completion. Your hand wraps around him and gives a single teasing stroke that nearly makes his knees give out from under him.

“Nuh-uh, time to train now.”

He nods reluctantly, that’s what he had said he wanted after all. You throw something at him. He catches it on instinct, feeling the soft material under his calloused fingertips.

“Put these on and prepare to go live.”

Jungkook’s unsure if the blood boiling under his skin is from the harsh lights of his set up, which makes sure his face cam is nicely illuminated, or if his body is still reacting to the earlier activities. You had instructed him to change the angle of his webcam, so it now focused straight at his face the same way yours did, rather than the previous angle which showed off most of his body, but you didn’t give him the excuse as to why. He knows better than to question you at this point, so he adjusts the angle and starts his livestream as you had instructed.

He’s setting up some solo maps, explaining to chat that he’s working on changing his technique so he doesn’t want to have to work with teammates online. 

He’s squirming in his seat. The solid base of the plug is uncomfortable to sit on and his skin is brushing against the smooth fabric of the lacy panties you had thrown at him earlier. The lace trim scratches at his skin but the silk is soft against his cock, still half hard from the lack of release from earlier. He had thought about refusing to put on the garment but he can still remember the defying glint in your eye as the thought stayed quiet on his tongue.

His mind is drifting away from the game as a particular movement makes the plug brush against his prostate. He’s chasing after the feeling, trying to get it to hit the spot again when the chat catches his eye. 

You good, JK?

You’re looking a little red, dude

Are you sick?

“Ah, n-no, it’s just a little hot in my apartment. I’m fine! Let’s try out these new tactics.” He’s stuttering through replying. Do they know? They can’t possibly know, it’s okay. He’s trying to distract them away from his blushing face because they’re right. He is sick. Just not with an illness, just a sick little pervert. 

He’s trying to focus, really. He knows you’re out of frame, staring down his screen to monitor his actions, judging where he decides to grapple and hide to sneak attack his foes. There’s no reaction from you so he’s unsure whether his new attempts are up to your standards. He knows you wouldn’t make any noise and alert his chat of your presence, but how is he supposed to know he’s making any progress?

On the screen, Widowmaker cleans up her enemies, one kill after another, lulling him into a false sense of security. He didn’t expect the sudden thrum of low but steady vibrations to strike through him. Eyes widening and mouth falling open, his attention is diverted to where you’re hiding in a corner of the room, sitting on a chair, legs casually open, pose relaxed. It’s only now that he notices the little remote in your hand. 

One of your eyebrows is raised as if to dare him to challenge you, so he’s quick to shut his mouth and bring his stare back to his screen. He wonders if his chat can see how tightly his molars are biting against each other at the back of his jaw and the way his ass grinds down into the cushion of his chair.

He should have figured it wouldn’t be that easy.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Eyes in front of him. Fingers carefully poised on each button of his keyboard. He brings Widowmaker to look through the scope of her rifle as he aims to catch the head of an enemy bobbing between buildings far in front of him, and that’s when you strike your own attack, bringing the strength of the vibrations up several notches.

“Ack!” he exclaims, body jumping up in surprise. He’s biting on his lips to prevent any further sounds of escaping but his loss of focus brings his end as he hears the death announcement booming in his ears. The sensations stop immediately.

It takes a second for his heartbeat to slow to a reasonable pace, but it skips when he diverts his gaze to you. only to be met with a sinister smirk. His chat is alight with the sudden change in his vibe.

Is everything okay?

What happened, dude?

“It’s okay, everyone. I thought I saw something on the edge of the screen and got spooked,” he chuckles. It’s a lame excuse, of course. They all saw there was nothing happening on his screen to warrant the alarm but what else was he supposed to say? Sorry everyone, a devilish woman has me wrapped around her finger and her plug? He’d never admit that, even less so to his followers

“Back to it then. I think I’m getting somewhere.” The next game is set up and Jungkook jumps back into it, now more wary of the possibility of being attacked both in game and out of it.

You don’t move for a while. He gets so engrossed in the game and chatting with his viewers that he nearly forgets your presence in the room, like it’s just another stream as usual. 

He’s joking with the chat about a certain move the NPC made that resulted in an easy kill when he senses something brush against his leg under the desk. He doesn’t think much of it, he owns a dog that requires a lot of attention. It’s not the first time Bam came and poked at him during a game. 

Realization dawns on him quite quickly when he feels the hem of his sweatpants being tugged insistently downwards. There’s something, someone, under his desk that is adamant about getting him pantsless. 

He pauses the game and excuses himself to chat. “Sorry, guys. Bam is under my desk and it’s a little distracting.” He’s backing up his chair to get a good view at what’s waiting for him under his desk. He was prepared to see you hiding under there but the view of you on your knees, tucked between his legs, eyes bright and smirk high on your lips still makes an aroused shudder go through him.

“Get out,” he demands but the look you give back reminds him that demands will get him nowhere. “Get out from under the desk, please? ” He’s trying his luck but he knows very well that his requests will fall on deaf ears. Focus you’re mouthing back at him. He tucks his chair back under his desk with a defeated groan. 

“Looks like he’s a little stubborn today,” which earns him a tight pinch to his thigh, answering wince in reply. “I’ll just have to do my best to ignore him down there.” He knows that’s exactly what you want him to do, phase 2 of your evil training regiment he’s sure.

He does try, he swears, but he’d argue that any man with a pretty girl between their legs would struggle to play a damn videogame. He’s missing shots every time your hands stroke his skin a little too close to his groin, and he can’t imagine the scandalous sight you must be faced with as his cock fills out and strains against the flimsy fabric of the baby blue panties you put him in. 

He’s trying not to think about the humiliation coursing through him at the thought of his viewers possibly catching a glimpse of what’s happening under his desk. His cheeks feel awfully warm. He pointedly refuses to check his camera for the proof and ignores the messages in chat that remark about it. 

He thinks he’s not doing so terribly given the circumstances. Not until he feels the warm and wet sensation of your tongue laving against the silk that’s trapping his cock against his stomach. The panties are assuredly ruined between the wet patch where he leaks precum matching where your mouth suckles at the head of his cock through the fabric. It’s impossible to stop the groan that flies out of his mouth. 

“Ah, missed an easy shot there, my bad.” 

Your touch ignites fire beneath his skin and he’s sure his blush is flaming across every inch of his body. Your fingers are so soft where they taunt up the tight planes of his abdomen under his shirt, out of sight from the viewers. They crawl back downwards, catching the hem of the undergarments. There’s wicked snaps where you grab the elastic only to let it go where it hits back against his skin. 

“Shit, off. Take it off.” Thankfully for him, his request passes off as D.Va launches her mech at his character and he manages to avoid the armor hurling into him. He takes the opportunity to strike her down while her defense is low. 

There’s an audible sigh of relief when he finally feels the panties being slowly slipped out from under his ass and down the expanse of his legs to join his sweatpants pooling at his feet. He can feel how hard his cock is, holding shape straight up towards the underside of his desk, desperate for a touch.

You grant it nearly immediately, wrapping your hand loosely around his dick. He wishes he could see how your fingers look around his shaft. Would your hand look small in comparison? Would it engulf his length and shame him? He’s not sure which he’d rather more.

Just as you let your tongue drag from the bottom of his shaft up to the crown, circling the head and slipping it just past your lips he gets shot by an enemy which is lucky as the soft “fuck,” he releases blends easily into the situation. His brow is furrowed as he tries to stay alive both in game and under your touch. Had he gotten the full visual he’s sure he would have ascended to heaven right then and there.

You don’t have compassion for him for too long, though. You’re quick to deliver a powerful suck as you lap your tongue across the slit, hand tightening and stroking downward all at once. His fingers are digging into his keys, letting attacks fire off unwillingly. 

He’s lost the power to be able to win at this rate but as long as he can stay in the game, your own game stays in play as well. His teeth grind down and the grip on his mouse cramps his hand.

Under the desk you’ve fallen into a tortuous rhythm. Hand stroking tightly, up and down, up and down. Your mouth follows close behind it, pulling a strong suck every time the flow reaches back up towards the head. Your spare hand has sneaked its way to his balls, softly palming them with the occasional tug. At one point the heat of your mouth leaves him and he thinks he’s finally been giving respite until he feels the wet muscle of your tongue licking wicked laps at his balls. He thinks it can’t possibly get worse for him but you open wide and sweep up both of his balls into your mouth all while your hand continues its cruel motion over his cock, adding a twist under the crown, little zaps of pleasure hitting him every time your fingers press against the 4 barbells on the underside of his cock. He’s about to fall apart just as you retreat entirely.

His breathing is heavy and he knows it’s obvious. There’s no point looking at chat now, they’re all calling him out for his odd behavior today. He’s using the benevolent pause you’ve given him to strike down a few enemies and catch up where his poor performance left him behind. He’s almost done the round, he can finish this.

The low rumble is back, sending jolts up through his spine. You’re not done with him yet and he’s on the edge of his seat awaiting your next move. Figuratively and literally, his ass had inched its way nearly off the chair as he chased after the warmth of your mouth. Along with the vibrations comes the sting of your nails digging into the meat of his thigh. They’re crawling upwards towards his dick, which is painfully hard and leaking.

There’s clear technique behind how confidently you spear his length entirely down your throat, massaging your tongue against his piercings. His whole body shivers and grows rigid under you. He can feel the muscles at the back of your throat contracting against him, fighting the intrusion but you hold strong. He’s doing his best to fight against the sensation too, waiting to see which one of you two will buckle first. But you have the advantage. 

The vibrations increase again and he loses his nerve. His head bows towards the desk as a loud wail tears its way from his chest. He can feel the hard thunk of his forehead meeting the wood and his hands abandon their spot at the keys to slink under the desk and find home in your hair, fingers grasping at the strands. 

You pull back before he has the chance to let go, another orgasm ripped from under him. His eyes come back to the screen and his chat is going wild at the sudden outburst.  

“You know what? I think you guys are right. I’m not feeling too great. I’m going to end it here for tonight. I’ll be back to my regular schedule tomorrow. Thanks for being Golden!” He quickly tries to get to the end of his tagline before he turns off his programs to end the stream. 

Once he’s sure he’s no longer live, he throws himself into the back of his chair, sending it rolling away from the desk to look at you. Your hair is messy from his tugging and your lips are red and plump, drool falling on his lap and dripping to the floor. You’ve never looked more beautiful and the urge to kiss you has never been stronger.

“Let me come? Please? I’ll beg, whatever you want. Just please let me come.” He’s already begging but whatever you need to hear, he’ll say. 

“Why would I? You stopped training without permission. You never learn,” you rebuke.

“I had to! Did you want me to come in front of all my viewers, huh? I can’t ruin my reputation, this is my career as much as it is yours,” he defends himself.

“Of course not, bun.” Your frame raises from the floor, hands tracing his thighs, up the side of his ribcage, your body bent over his own. One of your hands settles on his cheek, palm curved around his jaw in an uncharacteristic act of comfort, until your fingers dig in a firm grasp to keep him still, his eyes boring into yours. “You’re not allowed to come until I say so. You wouldn’t have come in front of them because you know better, don’t you?” 

He struggles to nod in agreement through your grip, he does know better by now. You’re wrong, he does learn but he’s still not ready to be entirely wrong himself. “Anyone would have crumbled in my place too. Nobody can play that well with a mouth on them like that. I bet you couldn’t either!”

He knows very well that he’s provoked something in you with that wager. “You think I’m weak enough to fall apart because of a little bit of oral? You want to try and prove me wrong, do you? You think you’re good enough with your tongue to make me fail?” There’s arrogance in your voice and he knows it’s far from misplaced, but he’s made his bed and the only option now is to lie in it.

“I do.” 

There’s an audible gulp coming from his throat when he sees one of your eyebrows quirk up. He’d spent enough time watching your streams and studying your gameplay to have picked up that the tic always precedes you doubling down on whichever enemy, NPC or not, that’s managed to piss you off. You raise to your full height, now towering over his body in the chair.

“Kneel.” 

The command is simple and direct. Easy to follow as he slides out of his seat, knees hitting the ground. Your hands inch the hem of your skirt up towards your waist, just enough to slip your thumbs into the waistband and ease your underwear down your legs to let them pool at your feet. Jungkook’s eyes follow the fabric down, brain registering that they look strikingly familiar to the pair he was previously wearing himself. You hadn’t just brought a pair of panties to put on him, you’d brought a pair of your panties and let them rub against him, now stained with the precum he had leaked throughout your earlier teasing. Would you throw them out now or would you keep them? Physical proof of him putting his brand on you just as you’ve branded him in a way with the control you so easily exert over him. 

In his fog, he hasn’t noticed how you’ve turned around to click away on the keyboard, bent over the desk, ass now presented straight in his face. Your pussy peeks from under the curve where your ass meets the top of your thighs. There’s a glimmer of a shine proving that you weren’t totally unaffected by your actions on him. A part of you is still human, no matter how much restraint you’re able to display. 

There’s a deep need in his fingertips urging him to reach out, spread your cheeks apart to get the view he’s craving. He’s aching, from his cock through his entire being, to see the gem he’s been fantasizing about for all these weeks. His fingers twitch at the thought but you turn around just in time to stop him from bringing his hands forward onto your legs. 

His eyes trail back up where your skirt now provides modesty. Modesty which he now knows is but a facade, part of the act. You’re not as innocent as you make yourself appear to your viewers. They’ve been fooled, just as he had during that first game when you two interacted. His gaze falls on the screen. where he can see you’ve now logged into your own account and set up an online game. A slight confusion crosses his mind but the view of his earphones set on your head, microphone adjusted in front of your mouth clears it up. You’re planning on being on voice chat through all of this to prove your point.

You slip past him, back towards your infernal bag of tricks. Jungkook doesn’t see what you’ve come back with since you stop behind him. Your knees are bracing his thighs from the outside as you kneel at his back. He’s sitting on his heels, taking the lower position, head leaning onto your chest. His eyes are nearly turning to the back of their sockets. They’re looking for you, for a clue of what comes next. 

Your hands are flat on his thighs, soft against the hard muscle but nails sharp where they stab into his skin. You never let him forget that you are the embodiment of duality. They tease as they crawl up his lap to his hips, avoiding where his dick lays hard and useless between his legs. He can see that your eyes are trained on it. You’re focused on watching it twitch, unable to calm enough to rest comfortably as it seeks any sort of stimulation. There’s a long string of precum that clings to the head, leaking down his shaft and pooling on his balls. 

“Please,” he asks. Jungkook doesn’t know what else he could ask for at this point. He has no control of the situation. The best he can do is plead and hope you are sympathetic. 

“Oh, baby. It’s not about you anymore now. You wanted to prove yourself so you’ll have to do better than that.” His despair can be tasted in the air around him. Your hands swoop past his cock without a single brush of a fingertip. They take hold of the hem of his sweater and drag the fabric upwards tantalizingly slowly against the skin of his abdomen. “Hands up, darling.” With that his sweater is thrown into an unknown corner of the room and he’s left fully naked on the floor of his gaming room. 

Did he ever expect to be on his knees where he works, under the dominance of a woman at that? No. Can he say he’s mad at it though? Also no. The anticipation sends a shiver running down his spine. Your hands settle on his shoulders and run down his arms. 

“Your tattoos are pretty.” There’s that word again. You’d used it a lot that first time. Calling his tits pretty, his nipples, his cock . He never thought he’d like to be called something so feminine but all he wants now is for you to shower him with compliments, so if pretty is your word of choice he’ll gladly take it. 

Your hands are wrapped around each of his wrists, your fingers struggling to close around them. He doesn’t fight against the pressure of your hold, simply letting you bring them behind him to settle at his back. There’s a thick material wrapping around each of them, closing tightly against his skin. A tinkle of metal as clasps are buckled. A light aroma of leather in the air. Your hands are back at his front, swimming through each bump of his abs and onto the bottom of his pecs, settling to tease between each of his most erogenous zones without giving either of them the attention he craves so desperately. 

With an experimental tug Jungkook confirms his suspicions that his wrists are now bound. Your hair tickles at his neck. Your lips are close enough to nibble at the shell of his ear when you whisper, “If you’re so confident in your skills you’ll only need your mouth, right?” 

Honestly, that’s somewhat unfair.  You’ve been using your hands on top of your mouth to torture him. But he won’t admit to the disadvantage. “Try me,” he challenges. 

“One last thing.” Your fingers make a beeline towards his nipples, twisting the pierced buds. His back flies into an arch, scream high on his lips as he chases after the stimulation he’s been looking for. “That little show last time wasn’t an exaggeration, huh. You really are as sensitive as you seemed. Let’s see if you’re as much of a little painslut as you made me believe.” 

The tinkling of metal is back again. There are two chains in your hands, each with a clamp on one end and a ring on the other. “You even changed your barbells to little rings. Did you hope I’d use something to pull on them? Were you expecting all this? Am I predictable after all?”

Honestly, he just liked changing out the jewelry periodically. He liked how putting in a new piece would burn just a little and make the buds stiff as he pushed the metal through the opening in his skin. Was he hoping that you’d play with them? Of course. He knew that you were so focused on them when he played with them himself the last time that you wouldn’t be able to resist getting your own hands involved. Were you predictable though? Absolutely not. Every time he thinks he has something figured out, you flip the script and send him scrambling. Truthfully, he likes it better this way.

He doesn’t audibly answer any of your questions. He knows they’re mostly rhetorical. You don’t want replies, you just like getting in his head, each slip of your tongue sending his mind spinning. Besides, the soft whimpers and moans escaping him are all you’re truly after.

He can feel the weight of the clamp as you clip them onto the rings that pierce through each nipple. It’s not the direct sting he was looking for but there’s a pleasant weight that tugs them down. The experimental yank you give to each nipple makes his chest reverberate with a deep groan. He can see each of the pebbled nubs get pulled to tear away from his chest, straight outwards as you test the force that you can exert. He won’t give up so easily though, only pleasurable little noises escaping him.

You seem satisfied enough since you let go of the tension of the chains, slipping both the rings onto your middle finger. You take a seat on his chair, not the casual sprawl that he’s used to seeing you in but knees bent under you to leave an empty space directly between yourself and the seat. 

You pat the empty spot with your palm. “Come,” you command, as if calling an untrained puppy to its spot at your heel. Jungkook figures this situation isn’t that far off. It’s a little harder than he expected to crawl to the space between your legs with his hands behind his back, knees dragging along the wooden floor. 

“Good, turn around.” His brow furrows at the order but doesn’t question it. He turns his back to the chair, eyes facing towards the desk, or more so under it from his new low angle. Your fingers rake through his hair, nails scraping deliciously into scalp. He almost lets himself fall into the feeling before you’re pulling at it roughly. You’re dragging him backwards. He expects to fall onto his back but his nape hits the end of the chair, head falling onto the cushion. 

He’s staring straight up at your face. Your body is hunched over him to manhandle him into position. It feels precarious, wheels threatening to roll away and send him hurtling backwards. His back is arched uncomfortably but not in a way that can’t be upheld with a little effort.

Once you seem pleased with his placement, your focus is back on the computer, setting up the lobby. He can’t quite see the screen from this angle but he knows the game starts since you’ve devoted all your attention to what’s in front of you, completely ignoring that he’s just under you, waiting for what comes next.

His questions are answered soon enough when your hand flies across the mouse pad to aim your gun at an opponent, which takes the ends of the chains with it, resulting in a sharp tug emanating from his chest. A loud moan follows and he knows his microphone would have picked that up. 

“None of your business, focus on taking care of Doomfist and less about what’s going on in my room, huh?” Your teammate must have heard the outburst. Well, at least it was nice to know your snark at him during that first game was simply your default setting. 

You must have silenced your mic for a moment because the next thing you say is, “We’re going to have to shut you up, huh?” and he figures that’s not directed to the people on the other side of the call. You’re not waiting for an answer, probably didn’t want one at all but the whine and quick little nods from him just makes you look more satisfied. 

Darkness envelops his vision from your skirt lowering itself around his head but there’s no time to regain his bearings. Dropping yourself onto his face finally gives him his first chance at a touch of you. His hands may be unable to reach out like he’d want but his head lifts to meet you halfway, tongue out and searching. 

He lets you settle fully onto your makeshift seat. He’s relishing in your musky scent. He had imagined how you might smell. Your skin gives off a faint aroma of vanilla which he’s sure comes from a lotion that you must have applied before your meeting, but it’s overpowered by the natural smell of arousal. He can feel the stickiness where it rubs against his cheek and across his nose. 

The pace of him basking in your offering must be too slow for you because he hardly has time to enjoy it when another harsh pull of the chain causes a warm puff of air to flow from his mouth and catch against you. You’ve definitely noticed as the pulse of your core can be felt against his wandering lips. Turns out it’s a lot harder to be skilled when you can’t see where to focus your efforts. 

His tongue acts as his eyes, licking up into warm flesh and looking for your trigger. He’s drunk on your taste, heavy on his lips. Jungkook is self aware enough to know he’s probably eaten more pussy than most and he enjoys it every time but none could compare to you right now. Do you actually taste better than any woman he’s had the chance to have squirming under him or do you simply have him bewitched? He suppose he’ll never truly know, only savoring what he’s given. 

He can still hear you mumbling out commands at your teammates, orders on where to be placed, who to kill. You haven’t given any indication that he’s distracting you at all. He pushes the tip of his tongue into you where it’s the most warm and wet and traces it up the slit up to where he knows is the little button to make you break. He knows he’s landed on your clit when you give a subtle grind into his mouth. 

Lips nibble around your nub, tongue laving tight little circles over it. Your hips are moving across his face. He’s barely doing any of the work as you use him to chase your own pleasure. He awaits to hear your own little cries to betray what’s going on at your end of the call but they never come. And neither do you. He’s putting in effort, pulling all his best tricks that would have any other woman begging for reprieve but you’re largely silent, the only words coming out of you  barks at your comrades whenever a play fails. 

He’s giving a long suck at your clit when he’s surprised with a new, more sadistic pull of the chain. It sends a scream from his throat into your own body, letting it vibrate through your core. He continues letting out sweet little moans to add to the stimulation and thinks this, this’ll do it. 

The brightness of the room is shocking when you raise yourself off his face. The broken sob heard isn’t from the pain that pierces through his eyes at the light but the loss of you. His head is chasing after your taste, tongue still out and reaching. His face is wet, lips from the arousal that has spread and eyes from the frustrated unshed tears that have started to threaten to spill.

“Guess you’re not as good as you thought after all.” You’re taunting him but he’s weak and bites at the bait.

“I didn’t get enough time. Plus you’ve restricted me way more than you had been, it’s unfair!” 

Light peals of laughter fill his ears. You’re mocking him and he’s reminded of the ache in his groin, still hard and so far from release. “Oh sweetie, I played four whole rounds. You had plenty of time. Plus, you needed air at some point.”

Jungkook wants to argue that he didn’t need air, he needed you . Just needs you to sit back down and smother him. If he’s going to die, drowning in pussy sounds like a fabulous way to go.

“It’s not my fault you just aren’t up to the challenge. I hope you learned something about focus through this though. You’ll need it. I’m giving you another chance because I am benevolent.” 

He should be concentrating on the little things he could have picked up on through this torture, but all that’s ringing in his head is that another chance just means he gets to have your hands on him again. His dick twitches at the thought. 

You unshackle his wrist and take off the clamps from the rings. Both areas ache with a delightful pressure, a mild buzzing going through him. You force him to log back into his own account because “I’m not going to let you ruin my stats.” 

He’s back to sitting on his chair, body heavy into the back rest, chest rising and falling in hard pants. The air feels thicker in the room and it’s tinged with the smell of the sex he hasn’t gotten to fully experience. You’re flitting around the room behind him as he sets up his custom lobby again. Once he’s done he turns to see what you’ve been up to, finding that you’ve dragged the floor length mirror that’s usually in his room to lean across the wall behind his chair. Questions arise, but he doesn’t let any of them form into words.

You tug on his chair to put enough space between him and the desk to sneak through. You’re at the perfect height for him to stare right down your cleavage, urging the buttons that keep your blouse closed to pop open. He could use a blessing right about now.

It might not be what he was aiming for, but the universe does reward him by having you climb into his lap, knees on either side of his hips. You hook your chin over his shoulder, chest crushed against his own. You’re soft against him and he seeks more of your delicate skin. His hands gravitate to your ass, palms taking a wide handful of flesh itching to push it down to his lap. 

“You’re not going to win anything if your hands aren’t on the keyboard, brat.” There’s a hand sneaking between the both of you to twist cruelly at his nipple. His hips raise in response to the stimulation, but you’re pulling up and away before he can make contact. His hands are flying off you before you can exert another punishment. It’s torture to bring each of his arms around you and not grab onto anything he can reach. He can’t blame his poor view on why it takes him so long to ready up. He can see the screen clearly over your body, but you’re warm against him and all his cells are screaming touch touch touch.

The game starts and he’s methodical, thinking of each move before he does it. He is seeing some improvement already, reaching areas at a better pace and firing off more accurate headshots than he used to. There are little movements in his peripheral that catch his eye. Your head moves against his shoulder and he feels it. Right there, on his neck, is a little peppering of kisses. Gentle across his skin, hot and wet as you let your tongue lick behind every brush of your lips.

Jungkook’s teeth grind against each other but a soft whine slips around a hum. His head is tilting, bringing the view of his screen off balance, but it’s worth it for the feeling of your teeth nibbling at him in the new space he’s created. He can feel where they dig into the muscle followed by a soft suck that he knows will leave a mark. He hopes you litter the entirety of his neck in deep purple hickeys that he won’t be able to hide, or perhaps show off, during his next stream. He wants you to mark your territory, sending a message to the next woman to hit on him. 

He falters and his character gets hit, but he’s able to dodge the next shot and get out of range. He can grab the health pack he sees not far from his hiding place and it’s like nothing ever happened. You’re just getting started though. Your hips join your plan. They rotate in hellish little circles. His cock is trapped between his abdomen and the fabric of your skirt. He’s leaking but it’s not enough to counter the roughness of the cotton against his skin, all too sensitive now. 

You must take pity on the pained little whimpers he’s letting out each time you swing forward and rub against him because he can feel your skirt being inched up around your waist, now leaving him free to feel the soft wet skin on the underside of his dick. The pace at which you move is excruciating. You take your time angling your hips forward and dragging them up. He swears he can feel your clit pass over each of the four barbells that decorate just under his head. You let the tip push right over your slit, giving him just a second of bliss where he can practically imagine slipping in. You bring yourself back down and repeat the motion in an agonizing rhythm. 

He can barely make sense of what’s going on in the game but you’re quick to remind him. “Approach from the north, grapple to the roof.” He understands the purpose of the mirror now. You’re watching him play. You can see every move he makes, judging his skills and when to strike with your own. 

He manages to tune out the delicious strokes you torment him with for another few minutes. He’s finally gotten into a groove. He’s focused . At least he is until you wait for him to be looking through the scope of his gun, ready to fire an impressive shot from halfway across the map. You’re at the tip of your rotation, the head of his cock enveloped between your folds. He’s got the enemy Sombra in his crosshairs when you sink straight down to the base of his cock, ass fully settled onto his lap. 

If he’s honest Jungkook doesn’t know what kind of noise he lets out. His mind goes blank, vision dark as his eyes clamp close. There’s static in his ears, and the universe falls apart at the seams. All he knows is nothing in the world could feel as good as you do in this moment. His throat feels hoarse at whatever sound was ripped from his chest. He’s panting, breaths coming heavy and quick. His hands have abandoned the keyboard and mouse, now finding their way to grip at your hips, holding you down in fear that you’ll rip yourself away again. 

“Aren’t you going to respawn?” Your voice pulls him from his daze. His eyes find the screen where his character has gotten killed. His hands are shaking as they reach for the keys again, hesitant to leave their perch, but you don’t seem to be going anywhere this time around. In fact, you’re painfully still. Not a single wiggle to heighten the stimulation. He’s unsure if cockwarming at this point feels like heaven or hell but he’ll take whatever he’s given.

He’s careful moving his Widowmaker across the map, skillfully dodging the attacks that come his way with his grappling hook, getting out of the way to take shots from above. There’s a tension in his gut. There’s a knot of stress settling in his throat as he takes aim at each opponent that crosses his path. 

He’s so close to victory. Everything feels tight. Tighter? It dawns on him that you’re clenching. Your walls are pulsing around his dick in a manic rhythm, intent on making him lose both the game and his mind all at once. There’s sweat beading at his forehead from the effort it takes not to thrust up into you. His eyes are closing in a wince, the screen is getting blurry. 

DEFEAT

A loud groan rips itself from deep within his chest. He can’t do this anymore. You win, okay?! He can’t fight against your special kind of torture. 

“I give up! I can’t, please. Fuck! Please, let me come.” 

“Tsk, you were so close.” He knows, trust him, he’s been close this whole time. “I guess I can give you a reward for jumping through the obstacles but you have to ask for it properly. Go on, ask for what you want nicely.” He’s been begging all evening, sweet little pleas falling from his lips at every moment. What more could you want from him? He thinks about your history together and it falls into place.

“Mercy. Have Mercy , please.” 

“Good boy,” you acquiesce. You finally start moving, pumping yourself up and down at a maddeningly slow pace. 

“More, need more- Faster, I’m begging!” There’s no thought behind his words, all imploring whines and requests of benevolence which you grant.

Your spine straightens up to stand tall on top of him, continuing backwards with a hand behind you on his knee to hold your weight. The other gripping at his shoulder for leverage. Your tits hypnotize him, moving in spellbinding circles right in his face from the force at which you bounce on his lap. 

Your new angle allows him to reach between you to grab handfuls of your breasts. He’s itching to get at you through your clothes. He’s not sure if he’s unclasped the buttons or simply ripped them off your blouse but it’s out of the way and that’s all that matters. His hands glide up to your shoulders to slip the straps of your bra down to the crook of your arms, bringing the padding down with them to reveal his prize. 

Your nipples are stiff peaks as they come into contact with the air conditioned room. Tattooed fingers come to wrap around them, squeezing and pulling. He hears your breath hitch and it registers that this is the first pleasurable noise he’s heard from you. It’s barely audible but there’s a moan coming out of your mouth, a moan that’s Jungkook’s doing. The thought sends a wave of heat through his body and he decides that his only mission now is to pull out more of them.

His head dips forward and takes one nipple between his lips. He’s gentle in his licks and suckles but the soft sighs you let out aren’t fulfilling his desires to have you fall apart. He slips the tip of it between his teeth and bites down with a gradual pressure until he can feel moan vibrate through your whole chest. Of course, if you can deal out the pain you’re sure to be able to handle it when it’s twisted back at you. 

He’s rougher with his grip now, sure to leave deep imprints where his fingers poke into your skin, teeth leaving marks as he switches from one breast to the other, making sure to even out his attention. Just when he thinks he’s finally on the same playing field, you make sure to remind him that you’re in completely different leagues.

He’d forgotten all about the evil little remote that you had in your hand earlier but it must have made its way back into your hold because the vibrations are back, strong and insistent. He’s sure there’ll be bruises left where the pads of his fingers dig into you. Eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, head leaving your chest to be thrown backwards, a scream piercing through him. 

“Gonna come! Oh god, please. I can’t hold it anymore. Have to come, please-” His words are slurring together, nonsensical in his begging. The hand that was holding onto his shoulder drags across to settle at the base of his throat. Your fingers mirror his strength and squeeze at each side, effectively cutting off his moan and his air supply. The fear that everything stops again is forgotten when he feels his world shatter. His balls tighten and the knot in his abdomen breaks when his orgasm finally hits. He can feel himself pulsing inside you, painting your walls. 

The pulsing doesn’t end even after he’s emptied himself out. He can feel how tightly he’s wrapped around the plug which is still buzzing away relentlessly inside him. Mixed with the fact you haven’t faltered in your tempo, cruel as you continue the quick up and down on his oversensitive cock.

“Oh fuck- Stop. Ah! Hurts!” He’s trying to slow you down, hands on your hips but you’re stronger than you look and his muscles are slack, still recovering from his climax. 

“Stop? Silly little baby. I haven’t come yet, why would I stop? You’ll be good and make me come, right? I’ll turn it off once you do.” He’s glad your legs haven’t grown tired because he couldn’t match your cadence if he tried. His hips are twitching up at random, little jolts piercing through him. 

He regains control of his hands, bringing one down to where your bodies meet. He can see the creamy white evidence of his release slipping out to smear down his cock, leaking onto his balls every time you bring yourself up only to thrust back down harshly. The sweet melody of skin slapping against each other is mixed with lewd wet sounds when your ass meets his thighs at every smack. 

He files away the view of his tattoos covered in the shine of your mixed juices for later. He hopes he remembers every detail of how you look on top of him, hair mussed, mouth opened, little noises flowing out of your saccharine lips. His thumb finds your clit and he focuses on keeping the pattern of tight little circles around the nub. Constant repetition is the key. 

He’s silently urging you to reach your peak. There’s little tears stinging at the corner of his eyes, the oversensitivity really settling itself into every cell of his body. He’d usually order his partner to come for him, calling their orgasm to spill over but he’s terrified that it’d be misconstrued as an order and you’d hold off simply out of spite. 

He’s just about to start openly sobbing when he feels you tense up. Your legs have a slight shake to them and he assumes he’s being sent to an early grave with the pressure with which you’re choking his cock. He swears he comes again, weak spurts somehow being squeezed out of him. 

The vibrations stop as suddenly as they started and his body goes slack. He almost misses catching your back when your own grows weak over him. He guides you back onto his chest, letting you lean into him for both of you to catch your breaths. 

You’re first to recover, bringing  your head up to face him, your hands coming to cradle under his jaw. Your eyes burn into his, the moment heavy. His voice croaks as he breaks the silence.

“Was I good?” His voice sounds small, insecure and scared. Everyone knows him as a confident man, full of bravado and a reckless love for danger but you manage to turn everything he thinks he knows about himself on a dime. 

It’s the first time he sees a genuine smile grace your face without any of the, admittedly sexy, malice that it’s usually stained with. You’re soft against his lips. Your touch is cautious, letting him melt into the kiss. It’s tinged with an aftertaste of care.  

“Yes, sweet prince, you were good. You do need more practice though.”  

_______________

When you were appointed as captain this past fall, you were fucking thrilled.

Leadership came naturally to you, and it always felt good when it was recognized by others. For you, being a leader meant being a bad bitch - powerful, fearless, intimidated by no one.

And a bad bitch you were. You liked to quietly dominate in pretty much all facets of your life. You aced your studies, you broke records, you fucked hard.

But this year, your fucking senior year, you were consistently being pressed, your dominance constantly being questioned, your restraint wearing thin.

And it was all Jungkook’s fault.

It all started at the beginning of the swim season... You had been talking to Kim Seokjin - the captain of the men’s team - before the very first practice. You had been glad the fellow senior was chosen, not only because he was a solid swimmer, but because he was supportive and such a laugh.

The two of you had been going over your competition schedules when a boy you hadn’t seen before had bounded up to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung! There you are. I thought I was running late, but it turns out I’m just really early.” You had blinked at the energetic boy who’d been way too excited for the 6 AM hour. He had felt your stare, looked at you, and continued, “Oh, hello. I’m Jungkook! Are you a freshman, too?”

Seokjin had stifled a laugh, and, for his sake, you had hoped it was at this Jungkook’s expense. “No,” You had glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched palm, “I’m a senior and the fucking captain of the women’s team.”

The freshman had turned bright red before smiling at you with renewed vigor, “So, you’re my noona then?”

“I prefer (y/n),” Your teeth had gritted together as your hands fell to your hips.

“Jungkookie…” Seokjin must have seen something on the younger boy’s face and had tried to prevent him from speaking again. It had been no use.

Jungkook had stared down at you with stars in his eyes as he announced, “I think I prefer you, too.”

And it had been precisely at that moment you knew that someday in the near or distant future you would enjoy disciplining that boy. Thoroughly.

Now, as if he felt your attention on him, Jungkook faced the direction where your team was gathered and locked eyes with you. His smile grew infinitesimally larger, and he blew you an exaggerated kiss with a wink. Your jaw clenched. It looked like you were going to need to have yet another talk with Seokjin about teaching Jungkook his fuckboy mannerisms.

Finally, the next event began to be announced, and Jungkook hopped out of the pool. You tried to turn your attention away from him, but you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he had been sculpted by the gods and had drops of water cascading down his tanned skin.

The proclaimed “golden freshman” strutted back towards your team area. His abs moved with each step, his muscled chest heaved for breath, his tight swim suit gripped his thighs and his crotch - basically leaving little to the imagination.

You stared at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, grinning at you and running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back out of his face.

Jungkook stopped in front of you and Lina, dangling his goggles from one long finger and swinging them in your face. “Did you see me win, noona?”

[That little shit.]

You swallowed your instinct to reply with a scathing remark. Instead, you remained cool as ice, just as you always did when Jungkook demanded your attention. It was your foolproof method for dealing with brats. “You know I did, Jeon. I have to watch everyone. That’s what good captains do.”

“Ah, that’s right. Captain noona…” His grin returned as you stared (READ: glared) up at him, “Always cheering me on and watching me win.”

“God, carrying that giant ego around must be exhausting,” Lina cocked her head and frowned at the younger boy.

“Are you talking about my dick?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion, “I mean, I guess it is pretty big. Maybe noona could help me carry it...”

You saw red; and, for the first time since meeting him, your perfect control snapped. Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped his neck to lower him enough so your mouth lined up with his ear, “Listen, Jeon. You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I tie you up and gag you.”

You pulled back. Jungkook’s eyes were blown wide open, his cheeks stained pink, his ears bright red. “N-noona!”

Lina was cackling next to you over how flustered you made the typically overconfident boy. You allowed yourself a brief cheeky smile at your friend before returning to a straight face. You needed to go get ready for your next race.

You had been trying all season to break your personal best time in the 100 meter butterfly, and you had a good feeling that you might just accomplish that today.

“I’m going to go warm-up,” You told Lina, grabbing your swim cap and goggles from your bag.

“Good luck, (y/n)!” Lina slapped you a high-five, “You got this. You are a legend. A queen!”

“A goddess!” Jungkook chimed in, peering at you from over Lina’s shoulder with heart eyes.

“Kook,” Seokjin swooped in and tugged the boy away from you, “Not the time. (Y/n) needs to focus! Good luck, babe!”

You gave the other captain a thumbs-up and headed down onto the pool deck. Faintly from the stands behind you, you heard Jungkook whining on about how Seokjin was allowed to call you ‘babe’ but he wasn’t.

Pushing that aside, you hopped into the designated warm-up/cool-down pool that was adjacent to the competition pool and proceeded to loosen up before your race.

Visualize the victory.

Take down the competition.

Leave nothing behind.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself hovering over the starting block, awaiting the starter. The natatorium was silent. You sucked in a breath and dove into the pool at the sound of the starting buzz.

Your body felt like it was on autopilot. Kick, kick, pull. Kick, kick, pull. Each time you took a breathe you could hear a split second of the roaring crowd. You pushed yourself faster.

Two laps turned into three as you sprinted. You didn’t dare check on your competition; those would be precious milliseconds wasted. And, as you swam your final lap, you didn’t even dare to breathe, swimming your hardest right until you hit the wall.

Gasping, you clutched the wall and swung around to look at your time.

00:51.34

Your best fucking time.

You felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. As you shook hands with the girls to your right and left, you smiled hugely up at your cheering teammates. They had known how much you wanted this - needed this.

The next race began to be announced, and you hauled your tired self out of the pool. Immediately, you were swept into a tight hug by your coach followed by what felt like your whole entire team. Your cheeks honestly hurt from smiling so hard.

As you thanked your last teammate, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Noona?”

You had never heard Jungkook sound so tiny; and, when you turned around, you didn’t stop him from hugging you.

“You did so good,” He mumbled, head burrowed into your wet hair. “My noona is so fucking good.”

You melted at his words. It had been so long since someone had called you ‘theirs’. And, so, you blamed your post-adrenaline spike exhaustion for your following actions.

Your arms slid around him, tugging him closer. You felt every ridge of his hard body - separated only by the thin swimsuits you each wore. Your nipples brushed his chest, and you honestly didn’t know if the moan that followed was from you or from Jungkook.

You whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Calling him by his first name was a rarity for you, and the muffled hum from the boy wrapped around you let you know it was well received.

And, when you pulled away from him, you made sure to run your hands over his chest along the way.

[That one had been on your bucket list, okay?]

Still so close to you, Jungkook stared at you with an unreadable expression. “Noona, are you coming over tonight?”

The men’s team always hosted the post-meet party at their house, and that was fine with you and your team. It meant no mess and lots of free alcohol.

“Yeah,” You pulled your wet hair over your shoulder, “I’ll be there. Post-Regionals is always so fun.”

“Well,” Jungkook puffed out his chest, “This year will be even more fun since I’ll be there!”

Ah, there he was - Cocky Jungkook™.

“You promise?” You smirked, tossing you hair over your shoulder as you moved past him, “After all, this is the only one you’ll get with me, Jeon.”

You didn’t look back at him as you made your way back to your team area.

But, if you had, you would have seen him staring intently at you with determination.

The challenge you had half-knowingly thrown down had been accepted.

Hours later, you and your teammates were decidedly tipsy from pre-gaming. 

“Okay, we should get going,” You said, checking your phone, “Jin said - and I quote - the boys are going to start rioting if we don’t get our sweet asses over there.”

“I bet he’s talking about Jungkook,” One of your teammates giggled, “That kid’s been trying to get with (y/n) this whole year.”

“That’s so true,” Lina threw her arm over your shoulder, “You might as well just fuck him and put us all out of our misery. We know you want to.”

You scoffed, pushing her arm off of you, “I will not be fucking anyone.”

“That’s what you said last year,” Lina fired back.

“Wait, what happened last year?” One of the freshman whispered.

You sighed, “Two words. Lim Jaebeom.”

A collective hum of appreciation and understanding rose from the group at the mention of the now-graduated swimmer.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, answering it. “Seokjin, for the love of god, we’re coming!”

“(Y/n)!” Seokjin yelled at you through the cries of what sounded like an angry mob, “My death will be on your hands if you don’t show up within the next minute!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Kim,” You hung up on him. Every fucking year the men’s team did this. You swore they couldn’t entertain themselves without you and your team.

“Come on,” You marched to the door, “Time to go ruin some boys.” With that, the lot of you walked across the street to the men’s team’s house.

[Yes, they literally lived right across the street. Seokjin was the king of drama.]

Not even bothering to knock, you swung open the door.

“What the fuck is up, Kyle!” Lina announced your presence for you as she hurried past, “Your better halves have arrived.”

“Oh, thank god!” Seokjin appeared by your side, clutching his chest, “My life is saved at last.”

You playfully shoved him, “Shut up, Kim. Now, where are the drinks?”

“Allow me to guide you to them, my queen,” Seokjin grabbed your hand and tugged you over towards the crowded kitchen.

You let him lead you, greeting members of the men’s team as you passed by them. Your pesky little freshman was nowhere in sight.

“Captains coming through!” Jin screeched, “Part the seas!”

You shook your head in disbelief at his antics, laughing as people actually seemed to be listening to the chaotic boy.

“See what authority we have when we’re together, babe? We could totally be a power couple,” Jin grinned at you as you finally arrived by the drinks scattered across the kitchen counter.

You weren’t going to lie, Seokjin was hot. You knew it. He knew it. The pope knew it.

But, you had done the whole alpha male thing. It was fun, but just not for you. No, you wanted someone a bit more submissive. Someone who you could gently break and build back up again. Someone like—

“Jungkook!” Jin cried, almost bursting your eardrum, “Come take a shot with your captains!”

Busying yourself with pouring shots for the three of you, you felt Jungkook arrive before you saw him. The warmth of his body seeped into you as he appeared by your side.

“Hi, noona,” He greeted you, his arm nudging yours. You turned, taking in his ripped jeans and loose black shirt before meeting his eyes.

“Hi, Jeon,” You shot him a small smile. He looked really fucking good tonight. His hair was long and messy, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered how much he had to drink before you arrived.

“Yes, yes, you have now exchanged greetings. Let’s move on,” Seokjin grabbed one of the shots you poured and hoisted it into the air, “To the best captains you’ve ever had!”

You threw your head back and laughed as you played along, lifting your glass in the air beside Jin. You felt Jungkook looking at you as if he’d never seen you act so carefree. And maybe he hadn’t.

The room echoed Seokjin’s declaration, and you took the shot, feeling the tequila burn down your throat as you locked eyes with Jungkook yet again. Heat settled deep in your stomach that you fucking knew was not from the alcohol you just consumed.

Jungkook’s lips were wet from the tequila, and your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your own. His eyes latched onto the movement before looking back at you under heavy lids. “Noona…” The honorific came out like a plea, but you didn’t even think he knew what he was asking for.

“(Y/n)!” One of your teammates called to you from across the room, “Play King’s Cup with us!” You shot her a thumbs up. Fixing yourself a drink, you gave the now pouting Jungkook a lazy smile, “Talk to you later?”

You squeezed his arm briefly; and, as you sauntered away, you felt his eyes glued to your ass. And, naturally, you made sure to put a nice swing into it. God, were you actually going to do this? Were you actually considering fucking him tonight?

[Yes.]

You cursed Lina for putting the idea into the front of your mind. You cursed yourself for having that very same idea since the very second you met him. And you cursed the boy himself for being so outwardly arrogant but so sinfully submissive.

[Or at least you hoped he was a sub. God, how you hoped.]

You greeted the group gathered around the coffee table for King’s Cup and plopped yourself down between Park Jimin and Lina. Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks pink. “Hi, (y/n)! I’m surprised Jungkook let you leave his side.”

Your eyebrows flew up, “And what makes you think I let Jungkook dictate my actions?”

Jimin gulped, eyes searching around the group for assistance and coming up empty handed. No one wanted to deal with your wrath. “I- I thought you were getting together?”

Lina let out a low whistle, “Jimin, you’re just a little too early, my dude. (Y/n), give the poor kid a break. Let’s play some King’s!”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. “Sorry, (y/n). Geez, you’re scary when you’re mad, but also kind of hot.”

His admission cracked you up, and you pinched his blushing cheek, “Jimin, you’re too cute. Don’t even worry about it.”

Two boys turned bright red at your actions: Jimin from embarrassment and Jungkook from jealousy.

You didn’t even know how many rounds of the game you played before someone suggested playing something else. You had a pretty nice buzz going, leaning on Jimin’s arm and laughing at a joke Lina told.

“I’ve got it!” Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers, grinning manically, “Body shots!”

Chaos ensued. It seemed half the group was down, and half the group was against it.

You knew Lina had the fattest crush on Tae, and so you reluctantly joined the side in agreement. She shot you a grateful look. 

“Let’s fucking do it,” You got to your feet, “Jin, do you have salt and limes?”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” He cried, running over to the kitchen and pulling random ingredients off of shelves. “We have salt, limes, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, cherries, sugar, orange juice, pickle juice, pepper—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Tequila, salt, and limes should be okay. God, were you really just about to offer pepper? As in the fucking spice?”

“Yes,” His muffled response came from behind your hand.

“You’re something else, Kim Seokjin,” You muttered before turning back to the group. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“We wrote everyone’s names down, and we’re going to take turns picking,” Lina said, thrusting a hat in your direction that was full of slips of paper.

“No one else wants to go first?” You looked around the room suspiciously and then shrugged, “Alright, fine.”

You dipped your hand into the pile of papers and selected one. Opening it, your breath escaped you in a whoosh, “Jeon Jungkook.”

The room erupted into cheers.

“Fuck yeah! Get it, Jeon!”

“Oh, this is going to be hot!”

“Yas queen! That’s my mom right there!”

You threw the slip of paper at Lina as she screamed that last remark at you.

Searching the room for Jungkook, you found him lounging by the empty couch against the far wall waiting for you with a shit-eating grin. Did the boy think he was going to be taking the shot off of you?

[Oh, how foolish.]

You approached him, grabbing the bottle of tequila, a shot glass, the salt, and a slice of lime from Jin on your way over. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t allow him the chance, “Shirt off, Jeon.”

Whistles broke out as Jungkook froze, looking confused for a second, and then he tugged his shirt over his head. You praised your decision-making skills. His body deserved to be worshipped with your tongue. It was only right and just.

“Now what, noona?” The boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest. A move you knew he only did because it made his biceps flex.

“Lay down,” You tilted your head, indicating he should get down on the couch, “And shut up.”

Jungkook’s eyes heated at your words. He obeyed, laying down just like you asked. However, he brought his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head. The fucking brat knew what he was doing.

You would punish him accordingly.

Your finger brushed over his lips before pushing the slice of lime between them. “Hold that for me, would you?” You murmured, hitching one leg over his body and settling firmly on his lap.

Assessing where to put the shot, you decided—fuck it—and placed it right between his legs.

Vaguely, you heard the people surrounding you yelling and screaming, but you were only focused on Jungkook and how round his eyes were as they stared at your hand holding the shot glass steady, dangerously close to his crotch.

Suppressing a smile, you poured a trail of salt down the middle of his abs. Finally unleashing your evil grin, you lean close to him with your hair blocking your face from the audience, “You ready, baby boy?”

He nodded furiously.

You flicked your hair over your shoulder and slowly lowered yourself over his stomach. Keeping your eyes on his, you swiped your tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. Jungkook’s chest was heaving, his abs were tensing, his eyes were hooded.

You licked slowly down his stomach, tasting the salt and him all at once. His skin was burning under your tongue as you delved into each groove of his abs, making sure no salt was left behind. Satisfied you had gotten all of it, you shifted lower still, ghosting over the now growing bulge in his jeans to hover over the shot.

Wrapping your lips around the glass, you tilted your head back as you straightened into a sitting position. The liquid coursed down your throat, but you barely felt the burn this time. You moved up, settling right on his hardening cock, and sucked the lime from his mouth.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan as you threw the lime’s peel somewhere over your shoulder, ignoring the indignant cry in response from Jin.

You kissed him, his lips sticky with lime juice and oh so delicious. His hands finally moved from behind his head to grip your hips. You didn’t even realize you were grinding into him until his hands tried to hold you still.

[Sorry, not sorry.]

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you tugged on it before releasing it to place another soft kiss on his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin’s loud voice broke through your daze, “No fornicating on my couch, please!”

“So, if we were married, we could fuck on it? Is that what you’re saying?” You pulled away from Jungkook’s mouth and laughed at Jin’s gobsmacked expression.

“Yah, so disrespectful!” He yanked you off of Jungkook and set you on your feet, “Okay, who’s next? Tae and Lina? Me and Jiminie?”

You shook your head at your fellow captain and turned back to Jungkook; but, you found the couch empty. Whipping around to look for him, you noticed one of your teammates gesturing towards the stairs. You shot them a thankful glance and darted in the direction the boy apparently disappeared in.

“Jeon?” You called as you reached the top of the staircase. Failing to hear a response, you moved down the hallway. Your eyes and ears strained for any sign of him.

Finally, your gaze focused on the closed door at the far end of the hall. A soft light emitted from the bottom of it; and, as you crept closer, you heard Jungkook cursing on the other side of it.

You knocked once. “Jeon? What are you do—” Your words died in your throat as you threw open the door and laid eyes on a very naked and very turned on Jungkook.

“Noona, I can explain!” He jumped out of his bed, fumbling around for his pants.

You calmly shut the door and locked it behind you. 

“Shh, baby,” You whispered, crossing the room and stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to explain. It made you hard, didn’t it? Having me on top of you, licking your skin, kissing your lips… You just couldn’t help yourself, hmm?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed, “Y-yes. I’m so hard it hurts. Noona, please touch me.”

“I can see that,” You glanced down at his cock. It was admittedly big, and it reminded you of what he had said earlier about you holding it for him. “Jungkook, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve been such a brat to me this whole year. Why should I?”

You turned and began to walk to the door. As predicted, Jungkook rushed around you to block the exit, “Please, (Y/n)! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop bugging you. I’ll return the swim cap I stole from your bag...”

[That was him? You looked for that cap for weeks!]

He continued, “I’ll stop trying to get your attention! I’ll—”

You grabbed his cock - a truly effective method to shut him up. “You’ll be good for me, baby?” Your thumb brushed across his slit, collecting the drop of precum gathered there. Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you licked the droplet off, savoring the salty taste.

He let out a strangled groan as you did so. “Fuck yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your good boy.”

“You know,” Your hand returned to stroke his cock slowly, before dropping it, “I don’t think I believe you.”

“No!” Jungkook looked close to tears as he tried to bring your hand back, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” You sunk to your knees before him, “You’ll do anything, Kookie?”

He shuddered, “Yeah, I’m yours. I’ll do anything as long as you ask me.”

“Really?” You cooed, running your fingers up his toned calves and quads, “I like that the sound of that, baby. Okay, fine. But you can’t come until I say so, got it?”

After seeing him nod vigorously, you spit on the head of his cock and use your hand to spread the combination of spit and precum around.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, leaning against the door, “Noona is so dirty.”

“Oh, baby,” You grinned, “You have no idea.”

And, with that, you took the head of his cock into your mouth and sucked.

Jungkook let out a choked groan, his fingers sliding into your hair.

You took him as far as you could and then swallowed around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He chanted above you. You glanced up at him and hummed in amusement at his fucked out expression, and the stimulation from your humming only made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

You released him with a pop. “Jungkook, look at me when I suck your cock.”

“Y-yes, noona,” The boy blinked his eyes open and angled his head down to meet your eyes.

“Good boy,” You nodded and then licked up the underside of his cock before taking him back into your mouth.

You blew him hard, stroking the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit entirely in your mouth. Your mouth bobbed, your hands grabbed his ass, your tongue swiped over him.

“Please, please, noona, I’m so close,” he begged, looking down at you with wide eyes and a pleading expression, “Please let me come, (y/n)!”

You glared up at him, releasing him once again, “No.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook gasped above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, can I come in your mouth?”

“No,” You repeated, your hand stroking him loosely. He whined, his hips straining to try to get you to grip him tighter.

You dropped your hold and stood, heading over to his bed.

“Nooo! Noona!” The brat moaned from behind you. You glanced back and scowled as you saw him clutching his cock in his hands.

“Jungkook, if you don’t get your hands off your cock in the next second, I won’t let you touch me.”

He dropped his cock like a hot potato. “I can touch you?” His eyes shone at the possibility.

You rolled your eyes and tugged your t-shirt dress over your head.

“Damn, noona, you’re so sexy,” Jungkook reached out to grab your waist but you smacked his hand away.

“Lay down on the bed, Kook,” You ordered, unclasping your bra and shimmying out of your thong, “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come.”

“Hell yeah,” The idiot launched himself onto the bed and flipped over onto his back, “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

You pinched his nipple and he yelped. “You’re such a dweeb,” You sighed, getting into position on top of him. He grinned up at you from in between your thighs.

“I think I’m in heaven,” He said, flicking his eyes across your body and staring hungrily at your pussy.

“Hm,” You shrugged and lowered yourself down just out of reach of his tongue, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you make me come hard enough, I’ll reward you.”

With that, you sunk down onto his face. His tongue immediately delved into you, flicking and lathering between your folds. His hands flew up to grip your ass, pushing you harder down onto his face.

[Fuck, you had never been more thankful for swimming and its conditioning. Amazing breath control? Check. Incredible stamina? Double check.]

You arched your back as Jungkook circled your aching clit. “That’s it, baby,” You moaned, reaching down to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers, “You’re doing so well. You’re making me feel so good.”

His pace quickened at the sound of your praises, his tongue thrust inside you, his nose rubbed at your clit. You felt the pleasure building and building. “Yes, Jungkook, don’t stop,” You looked down at him and his eyes were so dilated. He was looking back at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And it was that look that pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your legs giving out from under you and your full weight falling on Jungkook. The boy took it, tongue unceasing in its movements, lapping up every last drop you have him.

As you rode out the last of your orgasm, you lifted yourself off of Jungkook and stood.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook said, breathing hard.

“What for, baby?” Your cocked your head, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for after making you come so hard.

The poor boy blushed furiously. You glanced over him and quickly realized the problem.

“You came on yourself?” You murmured, stroking your hand through his hair as he gazed up at you regretfully.

He nodded, lower lip jutting out in a cute pout.

“You know,” You said, rounding the bed and settling in between his legs. “Usually I would punish you for this, but I think it’s really fucking hot that you came just from eating me out, baby. I’m just sad you didn’t come in my mouth or my pussy.”

You swiped your finger across the cum gathered on across his abs and sucked it into your mouth.

“I can still come inside you, noona!” Jungkook rocketed up into a sitting position, “Look, I’m already hard again! That’s the effect you have on me!”

You looked down and, sure enough, he was right.

“What a lovely surprise,” You murmured, “Now, should I let you have my mouth or my pussy?”

“I would die for your pussy, noona,” Jungkook said gravely.

“Always so dramatic…” You pushed him back down and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He bit his lip, watching entranced as you pushed the very tip of his cock inside you. A choked breath burst out of Jungkook as you sunk down lower.

“Noona, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good,” His hands clenched on your thighs as you took him to the hilt and rolled your hips. Damn, he filled you up so nicely. Your walls clenched tightly around him, every shift of your hips brought delicious friction.

“Move, noona, please,” He begged, “Fuck me.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, reveling in the moan he let out in response.

“Play with my nipples, Kook,” You panted, beginning to ride him hard.

Jungkook grabbed your ass and shifted backwards. Sitting with his back against the headboard, his mouth descended onto one of your nipples.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, baby,” You moaned, grinding down onto him as he bit down lightly.

“You’re so fucking hot, noona,” Jungkook groaned, “And your pussy feels so fucking good. I always knew it would though…”

You gripped his hair and tugged hard, “Don’t make me follow through with my gag idea.”

You felt his cock twitch, “Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” He lied.

You brought two fingers to his mouth, “Suck.”

His eyes widened at your command, but his mouth opened obediently. You shoved your fingers inside. Quickening your pace, you bounced on his cock as he sucked on your fingers, moaning around them. You brought your other hand down to play with your clit as you felt your second orgasm rising.

“Are you going to come, Kook?” You panted, clenching down around him, “Are you going to fill me up? Are you going to paint my walls with your cum?”

He nodded furiously, still lapping at your fingers. His hips bucked up into yours, and you clenched down one last time before pinching your clit.

The onset of your climax set off Jungkook’s as he came hard. You tugged your fingers out of his mouth as the boy cursed and cried your name over and over.

The warmth of him filling you up felt so fucking good. “You’re such a good boy, baby. You’re my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” He smiled with his eyes still shut, “I’m noona’s good boy.”

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he frowned, “But for how long?”

“What, baby?” You shifted off of him to lay down at his side.

“How long am I going to be your baby?” His pout from earlier had returned with epic proportions, “Don’t think I didn’t see you earlier getting close with Jimin-hyung downstairs. And I know you let Jin-hyung call you ‘babe’! And—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “Shut up, you idiot,” You said, lips brushing over his, “You’re mine for as long as you want me and for as long as I want you.”

His pout remained, “But what if Jaebeom-hyung comes back?”

“How do you even— I’m going to kill Jin,” You growled before bringing your hand up to brush over Jungkook’s cheek. “Jungkook, listen to me. Yes, you’ve been a nuisance this whole season, but I always knew you did it because you liked me.”

You grinned at his blush and continued, “Well, guess what? I like you, too. God only knows why. You’re cocky and brash and loud and—mmmf!”

Jungkook flipped you over and attacked your mouth with kisses. “Noona, you like me?”

“Yes,” You groaned, shifting your face to try to avoid some of his affection, “I like you, you big brute of a baby.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to have to plan the most perfect first date. Oh my god, we are totally going be that Swim Power Couple™. Holy shit, wait! Just think about how good our kids are going to be! We’re going to make a whole team of Olympians, noona!”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You screamed, “Kids?! Good god, what am I going to do with you?”

He smiled down at you and kissed your cheek, “Keep me forever, I hope, noona.”

You smiled back at him softly, “I think I just might…”

After filling yourselves with ice cream from a new nitrogen boutique around the corner, you and Jungkook returned to his apartment to take a shower and then a long bath. He’d been on top of you then, too, lying between your legs while you rubbed his head or his shoulders. Between the acoustic music wafting through the bathroom, the warmth of the water, and the comforting touch of your fingers, he had begun to doze off against your shoulder. You had just giggled softly and crossed your arm over his chest, letting him relax for a few more minutes before the water got cold and you turned your head to nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

“Alright, c’mon. I’m getting pruney and cold,” you had complained as you pressed a series of affectionate kisses against his face. Jungkook had just let out a grunt of disapproval as he blinked, but he turned his head to kiss you before he lifted himself out of the tub anyways.

You thought that his lull in energy would’ve lasted after the bath, and you would’ve both collapsed into bed and fallen asleep after a few minutes of him begging you to scratch his back or spoon him or something. But instead, after you’re both dressed in pajamas, you’re the one that immediately curls up under the comforter while he turns on his gaming console and grabs the controller.

“Seriously?” you started as he flopped onto the mattress and started up the game. He looked back at you and just gave you a lopsided grin. “You were half asleep just a second ago.”

“It’s just for a little bit. It’s barely even 11. Just, like, an hour. Then I’m all yours,” he responded.

“Jungkook,” you whined, until he sat up and crawled on top of you. He hovered over you just long enough to lean down and kiss your lips, featherlight and barely a second long, but enough to make you smile again.

“I promise. Besides, this is part of my vacation, don’t make me feel bad,” he pouted briefly, then sat back up. “I’ll be your blanket in the meantime,” he added as he turned back around.

The next thing you knew, his legs were caging you in as he draped himself, stomach down, over the length of your body.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask for this,” you complained, but you didn’t push him off as he resumed his game, just readjusted your arms so they weren’t trapped under his shins.

So now, half an hour later, as much as you enjoy the warmth emanating from his body, you’re getting bored of scrolling through your phone, switching between Twitter and frustrating games while you wait for him to get tired and lie down with you properly. You drop your phone off to the side and place both your hands on his legs now.

“Jungkook,” you start again as you squeeze his calves once before you decide to settle on just rubbing his legs slowly, stopping at the crook of his knee before you decide to reach the rest of the way to stroke his thighs gently.

“I’m tired. And if that’s not convincing enough, I’m bored, so if we’re going to stay up can you at least include me?”

He barely tosses a glance over his shoulder. “When I finish this level. Please? I’m so close to getting it right. I haven’t even gotten my full hour yet,” he whines in return.

You huff in annoyance and pinch him, but you don’t say anything else. For a little bit, you try to pay attention to the game he’s playing, but video games have always evaded your understanding and you would prefer giving him all your attention, even if he’s not letting you. You’re sure that you could strip and he would still ignore you, not that you’d be able to get up with all his body weight on top of you. Your legs are starting to fall asleep with all his weight on your thighs, so you pat his leg softly. “At least pause so I can move just a little?”

“You want me to get off?”

You shake your head, “No! I like this, you’re just heavy.” As he pushes himself up onto his knees, you shove the comforter off and adjust your legs so they’re crossed, knees bent out to the side, and when Jungkook lies back down on top of you, his hips are dipping comfortably in the space between your legs. But it’s short-lived, as you slide your hands up his legs to grip the front of his thighs and urge him to scoot back onto his knees. He turns his legs out slightly so he can accommodate the change in space and so his hips can rest comfortably on your abdomen. Really, you’re seeing more of his butt than the TV screen now, but you can’t say that you mind.

He glances at you and lets out a chuckle before he turns away again. “I can’t understand how this is more comfortable for you now, but okay.”

“I’m used to having you on your knees it’s just not normally like this,” you retort, giving his butt a light spank.

“You’re gonna make me die,” he protests, wiggling back mischievously before he settles back down.

“Mhm, just focus so we can go to bed,” you grumble.

As he resumes his game, you continue to rub the backs of his thighs softly, your fingertips occasionally slipping underneath the edges of his underwear to touch his covered skin. You pull one hand away from where it had been pinching his inner thigh lightly to fluff your pillow up underneath your head so you’re leaning back more comfortably with a better angle to watch him from. More specifically, watch the way he shivers underneath your tender touches, his thighs tensing as you caress them.

“You’re so pretty,” you sigh adoringly. “I love you.”

“Just for my body?” he answers quickly, a noticeable pitch in his voice and you just smile to yourself. He’s sensitive, and even the lightest touches will tempt him.

You move your hands up to squeeze his butt playfully and nod although he can’t see you, “Is it that easy to tell?”

“When you look like this, why wouldn’t I?” you continue, as your fingers tease the waistband of his briefs. “My beautiful boy, Jungkookie, made for me.” You imagine that Jungkook is blushing, and when he looks back at you for a second, he just confirms it. His cheeks are rosy and he gives you a shy smile.

“You’re teasing,” he complains with a muffled whine as he presses his hand against his mouth to hide his grin.

“You call this teasing? No, baby, I’m just making an observation. Do you want me to tease you, though? ‘Cause it looks like you do. But you also said you wanted to play your game, so why don’t you finish this level and you don’t pay attention to what I’m doing?” you tell him, offering him a cocky grin as you pinch his waist delicately.

Jungkook looks at you skeptically, but eventually he turns back around and you hope that he’s more determined to finish now that you’ve caught his attention. You’re tempted to pull his briefs down and really start teasing him, with hope that he’d drop the game immediately in exchange for your touch. But then again, Jungkook always liked to challenge himself and you were sure he’d become determined to maintain his focus and beat the level he was on even with your hand wrapped around his cock—the thought of which is becoming increasingly more appealing to you.

You pull your hands away and lean over to the nightstand as much as you possibly can, which is fortunately just enough for you to be able to open and stick your hand in the top drawer. You sit back in your original position only after you’ve found what you’re looking for, and you’re pleased that Jungkook hadn’t looked back to see what you were doing. You let the bottle of lubricant remain neglected on your chest for the time being.

Your hands return to his thighs and you give them another light squish before you’re replacing your fingers on the waistband of his briefs. This time, you pull his underwear down over the swell of his butt and just giggle quietly as he tenses above you. But he seems to be doing what you asked because he doesn’t turn to look at you and it just makes you anticipate his inevitable ruin even more, even if he thinks he’ll be able to withstand your teasing until he beats the level.

Your hands find their home on supple flesh, and you’re more than pleased to have all this bare skin in front of you to touch. But you’d been teasing him by massaging and squeezing and pinching him for far too long and you’re eager to arrive at the main event.

Your left hand tightens on his ass while your right hand braces on the opposite cheek so you can brush your thumb over his sensitive skin from his perineum up to his pretty hole, fluttering briefly under your touch like it’s begging for you. Jungkook himself lets out a bated breath and squirms on top of you. You’re sure he didn’t think you would actually start touching him. But how could you not? With his legs spread on either side of you, giving you such a delicious view, how could you refuse what is being so gorgeously offered to you?

“Do you want me to stop?” you whisper.

Jungkook refuses to turn to face you, and you imagine the red heat burning his cheeks. All you see for yourself is a shake of his head.

Immediately, you draw your hands away one more time to grasp his underwear again and drag it further down, as much as your current positions allow you, but it’s enough for you, once he lifts himself up a little, to have access to his soft cock. You wrap your hand around him without hesitation, and you graze your thumb over the tip before you let go. Jungkook lets out a staggered breath as he settles back down and with this new position you’re thrilled to have his cock twitching on your abdomen as it hardens. Your shirt had already ridden up luckily, so the only mess you’re worried about is the precum and lube that is likely to soon be smeared over your stomach.

You then pick up the bottle you’d just discarded and open it so you can drizzle lube over his rim, enough that it drips down his balls, drips from his skin onto yours. You imagine his grip tightening on his controller as you drag your fingers over his skin to collect the excess, and you imagine his expression, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he stifles a reaction when you press in a finger tentatively. He fails to stop a whimper and you grin to yourself.

“I thought you weren’t going to let yourself be affected?” You watch him drop his head and his long hair falls into a curtain framing his face, and as much as you like watching him be so affected by the simplest touches, you want to tease him.

“Keep playing your game. Beat the level like you said you would. You can focus, right?” you continue when he doesn’t say anything. He lifts his head again and you see the game resume just as you press a second finger past his rim. The copious amounts of lube make the slide slick and easy and you receive nothing but a choked moan as your fingers stretch him.

You’re definitely no longer bored, torn between watching the way his thighs tense and relax rhythmically or how his hole clenches down on your fingers as you stretch him slowly. You feel lucky to have a boyfriend like Jungkook, so eager to jump into new things and just as eager to beg for more when he figures out that he likes it. You’re sure he feels the same to have a partner that’s willing to jump into new things with him, desires that the average man would probably never voice aloud. 

His cock is plumping up nicely as you crook your fingers, and you hear another faint noise make it past his lips. You wonder how long he’ll last before he loses his restraint and becomes vocal, until he gives up on his game like you’d been trying to convince him to do.

You pull your fingers away with an embarrassing squelch and you admire his self-control as he keeps playing, even with the dark blush on his cheeks and his ears. You circle your hand around his cock this time and it twitches with the sudden onslaught of attention, precum dribbling from the tip as you stroke him, the slide wet with lube.

“So cute,” you coo as your drag your thumb over the slit of his cock, before pressing the tip of your thumb against the sensitive underside of his cock. His hips twitch this time and he keens, and you wait to see if he’ll pause his game. When he doesn’t, you continue your ministrations, pleased to hear another moan as his head drops just for a second.

“Don’t say that while you’re looking at my dick,” he says, his voice wavering with the effort of an entire sentence.

“Oh, Jungkookie, I thought we’d gotten past you being shy. How many times do I have to compliment you before you just accept it?” you sigh as your hand squeezes his cock. “I love you, my pretty boy.”

Jungkook makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a “hmph” before he forms words again. “Love you.”

Your left hand replaces itself on his cock, and your thumb makes itself busy insistently rubbing over the head of his cock. With your other hand, two fingers are nudging against his rim before pushing in again. Ahead of you, you see a “game over” screen light up the TV and the controller is being tossed towards the other side of the bed. Jungkook’s head is hung and you just smile triumphantly even if he isn’t looking at you.

“You gave up, baby?” you ask as your hands make themselves busy simultaneously, earning a drawn out whine from Jungkook in answer. “That’s too bad. I would’ve been impressed if you kept playing and won. Maybe I would’ve rewarded you.”

“This, ah, this is enough. You’re distracting,” he mumbles as his hands clench in the sheets and he drops his head against the mattress.

“I told you I was bored. How else am I supposed to entertain myself while you’re playing your game and you look so tempting?”

Jungkook gives you no response except a sharp gasp as your fingers reach his prostate. While your fingers create a steady rhythm, stabbing up against his prostate with every forward flick, your other hand is fully stroking his cock again. With the way Jungkook is whimpering quietly and the way the muscles in his legs are tight, you know he’s not going to last much longer.

Jungkook’s cock twitches once, twice before his cum is spilling into your fist and onto your stomach and you’re pleased with the moan he lets out. You continue your motions for another few seconds, milking his cock and drawing out his orgasm, but your hands retreat eventually. He sits up slowly, still straddling you, and finally rolls over onto his side of the bed. He yanks his underwear down the rest of the way and earns a disapproving frown from you when he uses the otherwise clean fabric to wipe off your stomach, your hands and the insides of his thighs before tossing it in a single motion into the hamper in the corner of the room.

“We have to get up to finish cleaning up anyways, you could’ve kept your underwear,” you laugh as he finally turns to look at you. “I wish I could’ve seen your face.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, would’ve been embarrassing,” he whines shyly, a smile taking over his red face.

You sit up and lean forward to pull him into a hug, pressing your face against the crook of his neck. “I know I keep saying it, but I love you. Everything about you. And I’ve missed you so much, I just don’t want to waste any time we have.”

“I know, you’re right,” he starts apologetically as his arms circle your waist. “But if this is your retaliation anytime I’m playing a video game, I’m just gonna play more often while I’m around you.”

“My retaliation is then gonna become actual anger,” you complain as you pull away. “Now c’mon, put on pants and I’m gonna wash my hands, then bed.”

As Jungkook starts to stand up he turns to you again and grins excitedly, “So can we go get tattoos tomorrow like you said we could? What if I get ‘ARMY’ tattooed on my hand?”

VICTORY

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook whoops as the rest of the boys echo the sentiment in the voice chat. His eyes fall to his Twitch chat, messages zooming by nearly too fast to keep up.

 GG

That was a close one!

Honestly thought you were going to lose that round

“Thanks so much for hanging out with us tonight, Goldens. That’ll be all for today’s stream but make sure to tune in tomorrow, it’s our Sub Sunday where we play some more chill games with you guys. We’ll be running some Among Us so keep an eye out on my Twitter for the code drop, 1pm on the dot. We’re going to end this by sending out a raid to my friend BamBam, he’s streaming a blind run of Mario Odyssey right now. He’s a good buddy of mine so send him all the love that I receive here. Good night!”

His face cam closes and his screen is replaced with his usual end stream background that he’ll keep up for another 5 minutes or so as people filter out.

His attention shifts to his dashboard which holds his account statistics. A few people had subscribed during his stream and he can see his new number now nearing 5,000. It had been a grueling few years to get to this point and the exhaustion from working his regular job on top keeping a steady streaming schedule can still be felt in his bones.

He liked his cinematography internship, don’t get him wrong but the freedom of choosing his own work schedule and content was much less of a burden on him creatively. Plus the attention he got from the community he created was good for his ego. Admittedly, half the comments in stream were more about his looks than his gameplay but what’s there to complain about. He gets to play videogames every day and makes enough money to pay his bills and spend frivolously on ridiculous things for a serotonin boost when he needs it.

The voices echoing in his headset brings him back to reality as he watches his viewer count decrease and eventually disappear.

“Hobi’s out since he has to join Yoongi at the studio for a project they’re working on but is everyone else down to stay on and get some practice in? The next season of competitive is starting soon and I want to make sure I’m keeping on top of it.” Jin whines in the background.

The rest of the group all give off varying excitement levels of agreement. They pile into the waiting room but since their team is now missing a player a random added player comes in. Audreonne, master rank. At least they should keep up with them. Their icon flips to Mercy. Strategic teamwork at least, they needed a healer to balance out since Hoseok’s Lucio was now out of the ranks.

The countdown starts and they’re thrown into the game, it’s a familiar map and the guys easily split to their usual procedure. The Mercy player veers away with Namjoon and Tae.

Jungkook’s Widowmaker turns a corner and is instantly double teamed by the opposing Genji and Doomfist.

“Motherfucker,” he mumbles under his breath as the screen indicates eliminated. He respawns and quickly heads back the same way. “Yo, Audreonne, can you stick by me so I can deal with these assholes?”

He’s not waiting for a reply before dropping down into the area he was just eliminated from only to immediately repeat the process and go down again. “Where’s the fucking res, dude?” 

The action replay of his death shows no trace of the Mercy player around him. He scoffs, of course, guess that master rank came with more luck than skills.

“Hey, healer, if you’re going to pick support the least you could do is actually fucking support. Get your shit together.”

The rest of the guys don’t seem to be doing too hot on their own. There’s more grunts of defeat than there are whoops of victory and it’s not long before the screen comes up with the final judgment.

DEFEAT

Jungkook releases a loud groan and throws himself back in his chair, the force sending him wheeling away causing his headset to fly off and clatter onto the ground. He shoves it back on with muttered curses and checks the team, all having gone down by a few SP.

“How about you pay more attention to the team health, Audreonne,” he snarls.

The player remains quiet. A new chat comes up on the side screen.

I’m rusty with Mercy. I usually main Widowmaker but you seem attached so I’m letting you keep hold of her.

A short laugh comes out as he reads the comment in disbelief. No fucking way was he going to let someone else take his character. He knows he can play it better than anyone else on the team.

“Catch up quick then. And put your mic on, we can’t team properly if we can’t communicate.” That’s all he gets to put in before the countdown ends and a new game begins. They’re on defense this time.

A notification comes up.

Audreonne has joined the voice chat

Fucking finally.

The countdown ends and Jungkook goes out to the east side of the map.

“Where the fuck are you going? You saw we’re on defense right?” The unknown player makes their appearance and Jungkook groans.

“Ugh, a chick? No wonder we lost the last game. Don’t bring your uwu bullshit in here. We take this game seriously so move on to the next team of losers if you expect us to carry you.”

“Nerf this!” is heard away from him and there’s no time to react as D.Va’s mech slams into him and explodes. Fuck. He spawns back at base.

“Looks like your little hero expedition didn’t pay off so much. Why don’t you try sticking around the team this time?” The voice taunts him.

“She’s not wrong, JK. We could use Widow’s Venom Mines around the border and Infrasight will come in handy to see where they’re coming from.” Damn, even Namjoon was turning against him.

“Didn’t take you for a simp, Joon,” he rebukes. He can hear Namjoon scoff but there’s no response as the enemy team starts converging on their base.

Jungkook is losing HP at an alarming rate and calls for a resurrect as his character falls. He sees Mercy’s wings at the edge of his screen but Widowmaker doesn’t come back up.

“Are you not paying attention? If you were going to play support can’t you do your job and heal when you’re supposed to? How did you even make it to master rank? Is this your boyfriend’s account? He’s going to be pissed when you end up demoting him to diamond,” he rebukes.

“If you were paying attention you’d have noticed that I was already using my res on Hanzo. We needed his Dragonstrike more than your abilities or is your head so far up your ass you can’t notice your teammates also going down around you?” The rebuff is laced with aggression. “If you’re so insecure knowing you’re skills are subpar to a woman who’s only been only been playing 3 months just fucking say so.”

“3 months? No way. You managed to rope in some dude who knows the game to rank you up and now you’re just reaping in the benefits. This is my job and it took me nearly a year to get to the same title.” Disbelief taints the edges of his declaration.

“Wow, you’d think a professional esports player would do better.”

“I’m not dedicating myself to one game and letting management decide my gameplay. I’m a Twitch streamer. I’m independent, I control myself,” he boasts.

“Ah, I know the type. Got a few hundred followers and think you’re hot shit, huh?” The voice jeers at him.

“Look little miss, I get that you might not be properly into games but I’ve got nearly 100k so I think I’m doing alright for myself.” It’s a shame his smirk can’t be seen.

He doesn’t expect the laugh that echoes on the other end and the taunting, “Cute” that follows. 

There’s no time to continue the argument as their focus is brought back to the game.

Jungkook isn’t entirely selfish. When mentioned that his teammates were also going down he kept an eye out for more pressing cases but when his HP is dropping too close for comfort he calls for help.

“I’m really low. I need a heal!”

“Hmm, ask nicely.”

“The fuck? We don’t have time for your games, we’re going to lose the match, just heal!”

“Not with that attitude, we can win without you. If you want my help then beg for it.”

No way. He can make it through the fight without having to stoop so low. He just needs to get away from the fire and get a medpack.

At least he tries to but he’s surrounded on too many sides and there’s no clean way out.

“Can I have a heal, please?” he grunts through clenched teeth.

“Aw, see, you can be a good boy.” His HP comes back up nearly instantly.

There’s a few close calls before the screen lights up.

VICTORY

A sigh of relief escapes him as the group congratulates each other on the win but his patience has worn thin.

“Can we kick the chick so we can get someone decent on support?” he asks.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, did my game glitch? I don’t think it was your character I saw in the play of the game footage? Open your eyes for a second and try to understand how I got more kills than you as support than you managed to get as damage? Do you want to give Mercy a shot, maybe she’ll be more your speed?” There’s an evil lilt to the voice that answers him. “I guess we know which one of us is boosted after all, huh?”

“You know what, bitch? I’ve had enough of your shit. 1v1 me and we can see who has the skills without having to rely on the team,” he demands.

The voice acquiesces, nonchalant and unbothered. A Discord username pops up in the chat and the account disconnects from the game. His friends try to get him to just forget about it and keep playing now that they’ll just have someone new to join the team but Jungkook’s reputation is at stake and he won’t let some girl think she’s got something over him. He assures his friends it’d only take a minute and he’d be right back as soon as it’s dealt with.

He sets up a custom game, elimination, and picks his favorite map, Castillo. He picks his character and sends the game invite after adding the player to his friend list, begrudgingly.

It only takes a minute for the user to join the game. Frustration courses through him when the other player’s icon also changes to Widowmaker. A message pops up: Since we both main Widowmaker this is the fairest way to measure up, don’t you think? Fine. If that’s how they want to play this.

The set up is ready and the game starts. He easily makes it to the center statue and takes a second to assess where his opponent might be coming from. Venom Mines set at the most obvious chokepoint where the opposite side would come in from, but it stays silent. He activates his Infra-Sight to see where they might be hiding behind a structure but no outlines make themselves known. The enemy is simply not here.

His eyes get drawn to the chat on the side of the screen.

Behind you

ROUND LOST

He’s back at spawn.

What the fuck. Where had they even come from? There was no way they would have passed by him. He would have seen it.

Forget it. Push to the next round. He’s barely out of spawn before he gets hit again.

ROUND LOST

It doesn’t stop.

ROUND LOST

ROUND LOST

ROUND LOST

It’s entirely too quick for the screen to boast GoldenJK 0 VS 11 Audreonne. Absolutely no way. Discord is pulled up on the other screen and he doesn’t hesitate to press the call button. It doesn’t take long for the dial tone to disappear indicating the call being picked up on the other end.

“I expected you to rage quit honestly. I’ve seen it happen often enough before. Think having me whisper sweet nothings in your ear is going to make you focus better?” The voice is mocking which just makes his teeth bite down harder.

“It’s impossible that you’re not hacking somehow. Or someone else is playing for you. There’s never been some girl able to counter me this easily. Open cams so I can see that you’re really playing properly. Mouse and keyboard in frame, you’re not pulling anything sneaky on me.”

His answer comes in the form of a hum. Low and thoughtful. “I wouldn’t usually let you or anyone else direct orders at me but I’ve got nothing to hide and if you think trying to pay attention to how I play while simultaneously trying to get a shot in on your skill level is going to help then who am I to deny.”

The call screen changes as he finally sets his eyes upon his opponent, upon you. His preconceived notions of a pink room with a background full of stuffed animals is quickly quashed as he takes in that your setup is surprisingly similar to his.

It’s hard to see the color of your walls at all through the amount of posters covering them. Jungkook recognizes characters from different franchises: Link from Legend of Zelda, Masterchief from Halo, GLaDOS from Half Life, Elizabeth from Bioshock, and centered right behind you looks like a massive custom print of Widowmaker. The room is dark and eerily illuminated by the purple LED lights that border the ceiling. More lights are coming from in front of you which he can assume are from your tower and keyboard. Your Secret Lab gaming chair seems to be an even newer model than his, one which had only just come out. Had you not been sitting in the middle of the frame he would have assumed the room belonged to a top rated esports gamer.

But you were in frame and his eyes finally settle upon his rival. Your webcam is set right next to your monitor so the angle captures your face as you can stare dead into it. A shiver runs down his spine, was it intimidation or something else? Your headset is large enough to drown your head. At this point he wasn’t surprised to realize they were Razer Krakens but he somehow still expected the kitten ears to sprout from the band and he’s slightly disappointed to see they’re missing.

“Well? Aren’t you going to open your webcam too then? Only fair that I get to monitor the way you play too. I need to make sure I’m not playing the same way you do if I expect to keep my rank.” Did your voice always sound so sultry or is the image of putting face to voice messing with him?

He doesn’t bother sending any fighting words back at the jab. He simply opens his webcam to show off his own stream setup. The walls behind him aren’t as crowded as yours. Shelves filled with various figurines are more his vibe than posters but it’s oddly mirrored to your own. His LED lights filter through the color spectrum slowly, a trick to keep his viewers engaged as they anticipate the next color to come if their attention slips from the game.

He looks up and to his right to look into the camera hoping to send the same jolt down your spine that he received earlier. His friends often make fun of him for setting up his angle as ‘Myspace circa 2005’ but it serves its purpose of capturing more of his body into frame. He knows showing as much of himself as possible racks in a lot of his viewership.

He takes advantage of having your eyes focused on him to stretch his arms up and behind him, exposing a thin sliver of skin where his shirt meets his hips. He doesn’t try to hide the grin that spreads as he notices your eyebrow tick. Gotcha.

“Are you ready to finish this or do you need to go do your yoga routine?” Your voice is laced with annoyance now. Jungkook is a master at testing someone’s patience, as his hyungs would confirm, and yours is getting thin, exactly what he’s looking for to have you distracted.

“Let’s get it.” He pulls the sleeves of his hoodie up, exposing his forearms and the tattoos that paint his right arm, rivers of veins swimming between them. It’s nearly impossible to hear the little catch in your breath but he’s sure it was there. He bends back into his position, back curved too much for comfort and fingers heavy on his keyboard as he shifts his focus back to the monitor with the game waiting to restart.

Jungkook maneuvers his character back to the central statue as he had earlier, this time focusing more on taking the side paths rather than go straight for the choke point via the tunnel. He keeps cover behind the buildings, eyes trained on the other side of the plaza waiting for you to slip through but you’re nowhere to be seen.

 His eyes veer to your webcam and your body is poised entirely too comfortably for the amount of stress he feels. Your back is set on your chair, head rested on the built in pillow. Your arms are relaxed as they wrap around one of your legs which has been hiked up onto the seat of your chair. Your fingers dance around the keys almost languidly. Honestly, you look nearly bored. He barely registers a smirk grace your lips before he hears the shot.

ROUND LOST

You stare into the camera, smile both sweet and rage inducing. “Maybe if you kept your eyes on the game you would have seen that coming.”

He doesn’t bother to deign you with a response before the next round starts. Fine, the plaza is clearly too distracting. He’ll stick to his end, make you come to him and he’ll be ready when you get there. He doesn’t go past the choke point, waits for you to show up. You’ll either come by the tunnel or around the side and through the arches. He can’t possibly miss you.

He just needs to wait. You have to be close by now. You’re not as aggressive in your strategy as he is but you’re bound to come looking for him when he isn’t at the statue.

He chances a quick glance to your camera. Your fingers are quick so you’re on the move. Any second.

“Where are you…” he mutters under his breath, forgetting that you can hear the annoyance in his tone. He’s staring the screen down hard, not letting you distract him this time. He triggers his Infrasight and scans the scene but comes up empty. Just buildings and no trace of your silhouette behind any of them.

He’ll never admit that he jumped halfway out of his chair when your Widowmaker suddenly drops right in front of him from above and you shriek, “BOO!”

The strings of expletives that flow out of him are cut off as he rips his headset off. It smashes onto the ground with an alarming crack but he doesn’t care. He’s out of his chair and pacing into a circle around the room as he tries to catch his breath. He can hear your howling laughter from the forgotten equipment on his floor.

It takes a minute but he sits back down and sets up again to see you’re still bent over, giggles coming out of you through your attempts to breathe.

“How the actual fuck did you even get there?” he demands. He’s angry. At you for continuously one upping him or at himself that someone, a girl, can so easily thwart him.

“For someone who mains Widowmaker you do forget about the grappling hook a lot. It’s surprisingly easy to get to the rooves and sashay my murderous little ass right above you and BAM, it’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground.”

It takes some self control not to smile at the reference. Jungkook may be fighting for his ego but he’s a geek first of all and always enjoys a good Star Wars joke.

“You gave up your secrets easily. You won’t catch me off guard next time.” He’s smug in his answer. He’s got you figured out now and he won’t be so simple to take out this round.

It might be the time to add another advantage to his side. He requests your patience just for a minute, it’s hot in the room. That’s a blatant lie. He keeps his streaming room nearly uncomfortably cold so none of his equipment overheats since he runs so many things at once.

He removes his headset, carefully placing them down on his desk this time. He gets up and makes sure he’s still in frame. His face is cut off by the angle but that’s fine, it’s not the most important portion of his plan.

His movements are slow as he takes his hoodie off. Reaches behind him to grasp at the material between his shoulder blades and pulls it over his head. He’s sure to drag it along his body so that the shirt under it pulls up along with it exposing the tight expanse of skin across his abdomen. He purposefully pulls the material nearly up to his clavicles in semblance of trying to find the hem, exposing a shiny glint, and throws the hoodie off to the side.

He finds his seat again with a cocky smirk painted on his lips. His little show only continues with his current state. He had been broke for so long that he didn’t update his wardrobe despite his continued presence at the gym resulting in most of his t-shirts now being more second skin than they are fabric.

He doesn’t miss how your eyes seem to have gotten a shade darker than they were a minute ago. The flex in his bicep as he gets comfortable over his keyboard is subconscious but effective nonetheless.

“Like what you see, princess?” He’s not hiding the smile this time. He knows the effect he has on people and uses his charms like a weapon.

His attacks are usually not so easily countered which he should have seen coming from you by now.

“Nothing that impressive. I just think that if you spent half as much time actually playing the game as you do in the gym you might be better at it.” You’re casual as you shrug him off before sending your own attack his way. “I think you’re right, it is getting a little warm on my end too.”

The regret that fills Jungkook is instant as you pull the zipper of your own hoodie down, eyes hard into the camera. You don’t bother getting up, opting for bending over obscenely as you pull on the ends of your sleeves behind you to free your arms, sending the view of your webcam straight down the top of your shirt. You weren’t wearing an ostentatiously low cut shirt like other women streamers Jungkook has encountered but there’s only so much decency the angle can afford which you knew very well.

The warmth going through Jungkook isn’t fake anymore. He can feel the heat radiating off the tops of his cheeks and the weight of the blood rushing south to settle into his crotch. His choice to wear his grey sweatpants will surely bite him in the ass.

“Problem, baby boy?” He’s completely blue screened, vision only registering at your taunt. You’re back in your previous position only more smug than ever.

He coughs out a, “no” before urging for the game to start again.

He’s out of the spawn point in a flash. He’s back up near the choke point and slips through the arch. He’s heading for the balcony to have some leverage to check the rooves around the plaza to take you down before you even reach his side of the map.

He’s panning the field of view from left to right, as much as he can from his hiding spot behind a wall but there’s no movement. It’s possible that you circumvented the other way and are waiting to fall on his head again so he rushes to the other side of the path to check above him but he never makes it. His character falls as soon as it gets out of cover.

The scream you let out is inhuman, the Joker on crack. It’s high pitched and unrestrained as it devolves into more laughter.

“Omg, you’re so fucking easy to read. Of course you were going to keep your eyes up when I told you that’s how I kept getting you. I pranced my ass straight into the plaza in plain sight and you didn’t bother to look down for a second. You’d make a great pet, you’re so simple to train.”

That last jab sent a bolt of electricity down his spine. It definitely hit him but instead of running through him and stopping behind his eyes as the usual insults tend to make home this one runs down and settles into his lap, the energy still buzzing.

He shifts in his seat and the movement immediately draws your attention.

“Aw, are you squirming? Getting nervous you might be shown up and realize you’re not God’s gift to gaming after all? Or are you nervous you’re being put in your place by a woman? Is that scary for you? Poor little big man ego bruised? Baby needs to go cry to mama?” Your tone is high pitched now, mocking.

This doesn’t help his situation and he can’t possibly hide the growing tent in his pants without being even more obvious. Maybe you won’t pick up that the bulge which very apparently is, in fact, not a banana in his pocket.

But of course the universe exists to bring him pain.

“Oh my god, you’re getting off on this, aren’t you? What is it that’s triggering you, the humiliation or the degradation? Probably both, you sick little freak.” Your words may sound disgusted but the gleeful smile you wear paired with the glint in your eyes shows otherwise.

The look on your face makes it so much worse and he bows his head to get away from it, eyes scrunched tightly so he isn’t faced with the product of your taunts but the soft whimper that escapes him cannot be stopped in time.

The chuckle that leaves you is much more sinister than your earlier ones. It’s filled with something that Jungkook can’t quite identify but courses through him like wildfire. His hands fly from the keyboard to his chair, fingers digging into the leather of his armrests.

“Look up, baby. It’s not nice to ignore someone.” His head snaps up at the command, seemingly out of his control. His eyes are wide and glassy, as if vacant from any thought of his own volition. “That’s funny. You’re so good at taking orders all of a sudden. You act like a big tough man online but you’re just a pathetic little boy that needs to be told what to do, aren’t you?”

Lips tight, teeth biting over them so as to not let anymore treacherous sounds out, he nods. You’d seen right through him since you entered their game. Online persona versus true hidden feelings revealed to you as easily as reading a children’s book.

“That’s what I thought.” He sees your eyes dip down, knows you’re taking in how hard he is, length straining against the fabric. He’s rethinking his choice of going commando. He didn’t expect his regular Overwatch stream to land him in this position. “You look uncomfortable all bent over like that. Tilt your chair back and get cozy, you’re going to need it.” One side of your lips pull up into a vicious smirk. He can’t tell what could possibly be going through your mind but he’s sure he’s about to find out.

The breath he attempts to rush in comes staggered, taking time to settle in his lungs before he blindly grasps at the lever on the side of the chair. He’s careful to push himself down on the backrest to angle himself enough to have a wide range of motion in front of him without impacting the view of your camera.

“You’re doing so well. Breathe, sweetling.” Your voice sounds so comforting, so different from its earlier bite. His eyes close as he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. It takes a couple tries but he finally seems to melt into the cushion of his chair.

The tension in his muscles ebb away and his eyes reopen to find you in his monitor. Your own gaze seems to have a glassy look as you take in his new position.

“I knew you could be a good boy,” you praise, which makes his breath hitch into his throat. He’s put himself in a vulnerable position with you at the helm and he’s still unsure whether that was a good idea.

He can see your eyes dip to his lap and he’s reminded of the compromising view he’s showing off, sweats tight over his crotch. The reminder prompts him to bring his hands down to cover the area, suddenly shy with the dynamic this situation has created.

The rush sends his palms flying downwards with more force than intended. The pressure suddenly pressed onto his shaft rips a moan that reverbs from deep within his chest. He can feel his face heating in embarrassment. Whatever he does just sends him further into distress.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, baby. We haven’t even started. Keep your hands where I tell you. Keep them to yourself for now. Go on, bring them back to the arm rests.”

It’s such an easy request but it takes some effort not to simply ignore your command and instead squeeze and relieve some of the pressure building in his pelvis. His grip is tighter around the arm rests of his chair than it should be but so is the knot inside him just begging to unravel.

“Great job, darling.” There’s a warm feeling in his chest at your words. Not the same heat from the embarrassment you put him through, something more comforting, akin to pride. “Pull your shirt up, you were so keen to show off what was under it earlier.”

Jungkook doesn’t think about the speed at which he brings his body back up into a sitting position to reach behind him and tug at the fabric but he’s quickly stopped by your voice again.

“Ah, ah! I said up not off. You’re not going to start disobeying so soon, are you? We’re going to have to work on your listening skills, brat.”

Jungkook hopes the soft whimper that escapes from the back of his throat isn’t picked up but he knows the quality of his microphone definitely registered it. He tries not to think too hard about that.

He brings himself back onto his chair, back leaning down, chest high and forward. His hand is tempting as he brings the hem of his shirt up slowly to expose the taught skin of his abdomen, fingers rising and falling between the dips of his abs up to the curve of the bottom of his pectoral.

“Go on, I didn’t tell you to stop,” you encourage. He continues the movement until the fabric of his shirt is bunched under his neck, the edges still draped to cover most of his pecs. “Come on now, you were so eager to show off your pretty tits earlier.”

The heat increases with a vengeance, spreading through the entirety of his exposed skin. His hips jerk involuntarily as his t-shirt scrapes over his nipples to finally expose what he knows you’re after. Across each dusken areola is a straight barbell pierced through his nipples keeping them hard and perky.

“So sensitive, aren’t you? Is that why you got those? So that every time your too tight shirts make contact you’re secretly getting turned on? Do your friends know you’re just a little whore behind that tough boy exterior?”

Your words sound far away and his breath feels harder to catch. The room feels hazy. 

“You’ll show me how sensitive it makes you, right? You’ll be good and give me a demonstration? Do it, baby, use your pretty fingers.”

Jungkook hooks the bottom of his shirt over his head to give himself the space and ability to use both hands to roam over the tight planes of his chest. Each palm comes up to cover over a pec, just feeling the warmth radiating from his skin under his touch. He’s taking his time and you don’t push as he squeezes and pinches at the muscle around where he’s desperately craving the stimulation.

He can’t handle teasing himself too long, his body screaming in anticipation. A sharp cry melts into the soundproof foam mounted on his walls when his fingers finally take hold and tweak at his nipples. The stark contrast of the cold metal that pierces through him and the heat of his skin sends him reeling. His mouth easily falls open when he finally makes contact.

“Aww,” you coo at him, “such a responsive little slut, aren’t you? Bet your fingers aren’t enough, huh? Wish it was my hands on you instead?” You bring your hand up in front of you to examine it, to make him imagine how it’d feel on him instead of his own. “My nails are a little sharp but that’s the best part isn’t it? Want me to leave marks in your soft skin? Scratched up so everyone knows you belong to me? Is that even enough or do you need teeth? Bet you'd look so pretty, all littered in bite marks.”

The electricity blossoms from each nipple and blooms across his chest moving down to take root in his pelvis, the jolt ending at his balls which ache with the weight of his want. The roughness of the fabric of his sweats rubs at the head of his cock from the force at which his shaft strains against the fabric. The torture is too much and not enough all at once. He can feel the wetness spread from where his slit pushes against the cotton as his precome starts to leak out of him.

Your eyes darken along with the spot, both incentives pushing his desire further. His right hand abandons its post on his nipple and slowly drags itself down to the hem of his pants. It stops to grab onto the waistband. He understands the rules of this game.

Jungkook’s eyes dig into yours and awaits your response. A smirk spans across your lips as you take in his position, hand still and grasping to avoid breaking and dipping lower than it’s allowed.

“You want to play with your little cock, darling?” His breath sticks in his throat, a nod being the only answer he can muster. “Tsk, that won’t do. I’ll give you what you want but you need to ask for it properly. Use your words.”

His knuckles turn white as his fist tightens and a shiver runs through him. He can feel the wave start at his scalp and move agonizingly slowly down his spine, body thrusting as it follows the sensation. “Please,” he implores.

“Good boy. Go on then.”

His fist dives into his pants at an embarrassing speed but the sigh of relief that escapes him is worth it. There are noises filling the room but he ignores the fact they’re all coming from him, soft whimpers and sweet whines as his grip around his shaft moves slowly up and down.

“Are you going to keep all the best parts to yourself? Such a greedy baby. Pull it out for me. Don’t you want to show off your pretty little pierced cock?”

All movement stops. Jungkook’s head flies up to look at his monitor. You look as calm and collective as ever. Your smile seems sweet but he knows the vicious words those lips can form. His eyes fall to his lap and although his dick is clearly imprinted across the fabric there’s no way you could have noticed those details, especially not with his fingers wrapped around his shaft.

“Did you think you were sneaky? Take a look at yourself right now,” you instruct. He brings his gaze over to the corner of the monitor where his own webcam is reflecting the show he’s been putting on. “All those tattoos?” His eyes follow the span of his right arm, ink decorating every inch from shoulder down to where his forearm disappears into his pants knowing it goes to the tip of his fingers. “The piercings? Your eyebrow, your ears, your lip, you pretty little nipples. They’re everywhere. Are you going to try to make me believe a little painslut like you hasn’t brought it down to the most sensitive part?”

There are no words to defend himself. There’s no defense at all, you’re right. He’d started with his ears as a teenager and only getting more daring as the years went on. The burn of each new piercing only good enough to last for him the healing time before going to chase the sensation again.

He chooses to ignore the taunt and follow your earlier request of pulling himself out. He lifts his ass off his chair enough to pull his pants down to his knees, exposing thick thighs and sending his dick smacking against his abdomen.

He’s not exactly small, the head resting comfortably just under his navel. He can easily touch his thumb to his fingers once they’re wrapped around the shaft but he also knows his own hand is much bigger than the feminine ones that otherwise try their grip. His thoughts wander to the size of your own hands and how they would look wrapped around him.

He keeps his hand off himself for now to give you time to form your next order. You don’t give him any insight to your thoughts as you just take him in. You’d never admit that you were slightly off in your guess. You expected a barbell to peek out of the slit and curve down just under the edge of his defined mushroom head. A Prince Albert is the most standard you’ve seen in your own experiences. Instead you can see the bottom of his shaft lined with 4 straight barbells going down in a line. A Jacob’s Ladder is much more aesthetic and you’re not entirely surprised with his choice. It’s clear Jungkook puts a lot of thought into his appearance and getting four times the pain fits with what you’ve been discovering about him.

Despite all this all you tell him is, “pretty.” It all works just as well for what you’re aiming for. It’s clear that Jungkook gets plenty of female attention if his ego was anything to go by. You’re sure he’s gotten compliments about his sexy body and handsome face but you love seeing a man get flustered when receiving a stereotypically feminine compliment. Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes a few times to try to fish for a response but he comes up empty. You can’t help the giggle that slips out seeing him all exposed and under your control but get shy over such a simple comment.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Will you show me how you make yourself feel good?” The instruction brings him back to the situation at hand, as if suddenly remembering he’s sitting naked in front of this stranger, humiliation having taken a turn.

The grip he had on himself had loosened in surprise at your call out but tightens with renewed vigor. A choked gasp slips from between his lips, mouth still open from the shock.

“Always in a rush. Do you need instructions for everything? Can’t calm down enough to pace yourself? Are you doing it on purpose? You just want my help?”

He shakes his head in response to the taunt. He’s not being bad on purpose. He’s just trying to follow your direction. You asked him to do what feels good and this does.

There’s a low hum buzzing in his headset as you contemplate his answer. “I don’t think I believe you. You’ve been such a brat. I think you just want to see me angry.”

His eyes widen a little wider at your words. You could get worse? His dick pulses at the thought and his hand clenches around it to stop it from jumping too obviously.

“Guess we’ll just have to take it one step at a time then. Listen well, I don’t want to have to repeat myself. Hands off,” you order.

His hand flies away as if burnt. His palms lay tense but still on his thighs as he waits for the first command. There’s a tremble in his extremities. Is it attributed to the anticipation or the degradation? He doesn’t have time to think and determine the answer before your next words come floating at him.

“Good. Now, slowly, bring your right hand to your cute little dick. Just your fingertips. A light touch. I bet your skin is so soft, isn’t it?” 

His hand follows your voice. The pads of his fingers are ghosting over his thigh, up towards his pelvis, over his balls and agonizingly slowly up his shaft. He can feel the protrusions of each of the metal barbells under his skin. Bump, bump, bump, bump until he reaches the head. It’s silky and wet from the precum that leaks from the tip.

The low groan he lets out is the indication you’re waiting for to give him his next praise. It’s clear from the visible throbbing of his cock that he’s desperate to move faster but he keeps the same soft touch you asked for.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Such a good boy. Do you want more? You know how to ask for it. Go on.” The noise that escapes him is tortuous, part moan and part whine, lament on his tongue but he pleads so prettily for you to let him feel more.

“Please, please, please.”

You allow him a strong grip, a long sigh of relief but don’t let him quicken the pace. It’s still the sluggish up and down motion that teases the piercings that line under his shaft. His breath is shaky and the noises escape him involuntarily. Although you have all the control his body is losing the little it had left.

“So noisy. Good little toys are quiet.” You weren’t going to admit that seeing a man of his stature be rendered to a whining mess by a few little remarks is your favorite music but you know forcing them down only makes them sing so much sweeter later. “Do I need to shut you up? Baby needs a gag, hmm?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to peek at his monitor to see that his pupils have blown at the suggestion. His mouth waters and the swallowing motion is obvious as he tries not to drool which only sparks your tormenting ideas.

“You can put your mouth to use if you can’t keep it shut. You’ve got a free hand, go ahead and put your fingers between those plump lips.” He’s no stranger to putting his fingers in other people’s mouths, tongue slipping between his digits so he can be at the helm of torture himself but he’s rarely at the receiving end.

The weight of two fingers rest unfamiliarly heavy on his tongue but the warm and wet feeling that surrounds them sends him spiraling. He’s trying his best not to disobey and be loud but the stimulation feels so good that he can’t stop the moan that reverberates around his fingers.

“Tsk, clearly not enough. You can fit more in there, can’t you?” You’re pushing at his comfort zone but he’s not the type to back down. A few more fingers won’t hurt. It’s not long until he has four fingers second knuckle deep in his mouth, jaw stretched and aching to accommodate the intrusion.

“You’re doing perfectly, darling. You can put them in further, can’t you? I bet you love shoving your cock in someone’s throat so you can handle some fingers in there, right? Some girls can’t possibly handle more than you, huh?” You’re pushing at his ego, knowing exactly which buttons to press to spark his competitive side.

His eyes narrow at the assumption. Whatever you think he can handle he’ll show that he exceeds those expectations. He’s a little too rough with his urge to prove himself and pushes his fingers further in with too much force which sets off his gag reflex. His hand pulls away from his mouth, to allow him cough and catch his breath. His face is heated and strings of spit connect his mouth to his fingers now held awkwardly in front of him.

Your dark chuckle echoes in his ears at the sight. You knew this would happen, exactly what you were aiming for. Always pushing just hard enough for him to embarrass himself slightly but he’s been putting himself in those positions voluntarily. You might be saying the right things to push his limits but never enough to truly manipulate him into positions he doesn’t want to be in.

 “Aww, guess you’ll need to work on your breathing when your mouth is full, sweetling. But now that your fingers are nice and wet how about you take advantage of the situation? Your balls look so heavy and full. Don’t you need some relief?”

He jumps at the opportunity, bringing his hand down, past where his right is still clinging to his cock to cup at his balls. He hadn’t gotten laid in a few weeks and the focus on the competitive season had taken too much of his free time to allow himself some self appointed release. Finally having his hand gently fondling reminds him of how achey they’d been since the start of this strange position.

“Squeeze harder. You love the pain, don’t you? Show me how much you can take.” The taunting has made him sensitive and the rough restraint surrounding both his balls and shaft sends jolts through him. Little pinches from his fingers shoot shocks to every part of his body, knot clenching in his abdomen. You’re so pleased at how well he’s following your instructions. The toxic gamer boy you met not even an hour ago is nowhere to be found, making way for a perfect little doll to play with.

“Have you had enough teasing, baby? You ready to get started?” Started?? As if all the torment you’ve put him through has just been child’s play. He’s not sure how much more he can take but he’ll easily continue to follow, preemptively drunk on the high he knows you’ll send him on. The long moan he lets out is enough of an answer for you.

“Good. Spit in your hand, sweetling, we don’t want you too dry and hurt yourself.” Between the jabs you do want him to actually enjoy himself. There’s no pause to do as he’s told, eager to finally reach the relief you keep nudging away from him.

He’s sufficiently slicked up for his hand to move easily in a jerking motion, whine high in his throat. You play nice and let him set his pace while still giving simple requests: squeeze, pinch, twist, harder, faster, tighter.

He becomes a wiggling mess near instantly. His chest heaves and hips thrust erratically into his fist. His slit leaks profusely and you’re enthralled at the sight, so much that you nearly miss the moment when he’s about to lose himself. You’ve still got a few more tricks up your sleeve.

“Stop.” The command is plain, straightforward and cannot be misinterpreted. His hand jumps from the rhythm it had set, excruciatingly quick and tight. He’s clearly heard you but practically too far gone to obey. “You’re not going to make me repeat myself, are you, doll?”

It’s enough to have him rip his hands off himself and grasp at the armrests of his chairs once more, nails practically ripping into the leather with the force necessary to control himself. The frustration is audible in the loud groan that’s ripped out of him, long and tormented, ending in a sob.

“Oh, god. Why? I was finally so close! You’re cruel.” His voice cracks with the force of trying to keep the tears that spring to his eyes from falling.

“Aw, honey, don’t cry. It’s your own fault. You were so close to cumming but you were forgetting your manners. I don’t recall you asking for permission, do you?”

His jaw is clenched, trying to avoid letting out his irritation at you. Annoying you now will only set his fate in stone and you’ll never let him cum at all. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“So polite, I knew you could do it. Ready to get back to it?”

No words are needed to answer, hands just jumping back to their earlier position, spit renewed and slick on his skin. He focuses to stay more in the moment, listening to your voice as it tells him little movements you want. The heavenly twist as the tightest part of his fist passes over his piercings right under the head. The swipe of his thumb over the slit every time he reaches the top, encircling the tip before it sinks back down to the base. The pull at his balls synchronized with the tug at the end of his cock.

His end is coming back quickly, the edging he’s been put under losing as his self control escapes him. He’s learned his earlier lesson. His eyes find yours in the monitor, both of you staring each other down. Your eyebrow ticks when you notice irregularity of his thrusts, cadence breaking.

“Please!” he begs. “Please, let me cum. I need to cum, please please,” he rambles on. He continues to implore you, unsure if his pleading is still making sense. His pride means nothing in the moment, reprieve the only thing he can focus on anymore.

“Of course, darling. Go ahead,” you allow him.

His head is thrown back with the force of the relief he is finally given. He tries so hard to keep his eyes on yours as he falls apart. He wants to see your reaction to achieving what you’ve been working on but the wave that sweeps through him is too strong and his eyes close briefly as he feels his balls emptying, jet spraying over his abdomen, a few stray drops going as far as to reach his cheek.

Everything feels too hot. The fire under his skin. The stuffiness of the room around him. The cum that marks him the entirety of his chest which will quickly become a sticky mess.

Jungkook expected a genuine smile to finally grace your features by this point. He’d followed all your commands, he’d been so good but the same sadistic smirk is all that he finds once he manages to look back at you.

“Keep going.”

Keep going? Keep what going? He’s empty, dick starting to slump back towards the ground.

“Don’t look so clueless. You asked to cum and I allowed it. You never said anything about asking to stop so take your pretty little dick back in your hand and keep going.”

Crazy. You’re devil incarnate, a demon in a pretty girl’s skin. Yet instead of closing the call and ignoring you he still reaches to grasp himself again.

There’s uncomfortable jolts of electricity going through him. He’s still too sensitive, the friction on his shaft sending his nervous system into overdrive. He reaches up to play at his nipples again. He knows how responsive his body is with the right stimulation. A few pinches and tweaks will have him hard again near instantly. He silently thanks the refractory period of being a horny dude in his twenties.

He’s back at full mast soon enough but the sensitivity is still too high, body jerking every time his fingers accidentally go too high and scrape against the head of his cock.

“You can do it properly, can’t you? Stroke your gorgeous cock like you mean it.” Only whimpers come as an answer. He can follow your directions. He wants to please you so badly. His eyes are squinted shut with the effort it takes to reach the tip and squeeze and twist around the head.

“Fuck! Hurts,” he complains, words barely being able to be formed between the pained wails. Breathing is becoming harder through the agony. His thighs are shaking, spasms wracking through his body as he tries to keep his pace.

“You love it when it hurts, don’t you? My perfect little painslut.” The agony he’s putting himself through is worth every second if it’s rewarded with your praises.

He desperately needs incentive to keep pushing towards his goal. His free hand is moving steadily upwards, over his chest, shiver rocking through him as he grazes his nipple again to settle at the base of his throat.

His head stretches back to expose as much of his neck as he can, muscles tensing as he wraps his hand around the column. He misses the hitch in your own breath at the view. He’s a beautiful mess and completely wrapped around your finger.

“Of course you’d like to be choked. Masochistic whore like you? Go on, squeeze, baby.”

The world turns dull around him. The darkness behind his closed eyes explodes in a world of color. There’s a cramp in his fingers as they dig into his skin. His throat is raw from the screams he’s letting out and the room is filled with the obscene slippery sounds of his hand jerking through the cum that’s now sticky against him but none of the sound registers in his ears. The only melody that enters through the fog in his brain in your voice as it calls to him one last time.

“Let go, baby. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

His hand releases his neck from its grasp and everything collapses around him. Air rushes back to his brain and lungs in a crashing wave. The pain previously holding onto each of his nerve endings lets go into euphoria as a new flow of cum spurts out of him, albeit not as impressive as the first. Most of it ends up being forcefully milked out of his slit as it settles pathetically over his tattooed knuckles.

His whole body quivers for far too long, floating in exhilaration. It takes time for Jungkook to come back to his senses. There’s a thin film of sweat covering him and a dopey smile on his face at the bliss he’s been hurled into.

When he thinks he’s finally strong enough to handle the weight of his body back into a sitting position he searches for your eyes, ready to see how you’ve been affected by the whole thing only to be met with a dark screen. Your webcam has been turned off, the call disconnected.

All he’s left with is the chat window where a new message can be seen, a link to a Twitch page. He’s following it to a user page where he can see a picture of you in the circular shape next to your gamertag.

Audreonne ✓ 

5M followers

His attention is ripped away by a new incoming Discord notification.

Taebae95: You beat her yet?

_______________

Jungkook might have overdone it on the cleaning to make sure his place was up to your standards. He had put on his alarm to wake up early and spent the day scrubbing at any surface he could reach. Would you see the top of his kitchen cabinets? Absolutely not. Did he make sure to grab his step stool and eliminate any speck of dust up there? Yes, he did. 

By the time he’s done, his clothes are damp with sweat and his head is dizzy from the overpowering lemon scent of his products. He opens up all his windows and turns on the diffusers in every room. His friends often told him he was excessive in the amount of air purifiers he had in his two bedroom apartment. Sorry if he’s sensitive to smells and wants to be able to breathe properly. He’s rushing to jump in the shower when he finally finishes and notices the time. You’ll be here soon and he stinks. 

He’s in a matching set of soft sweatpants and a hoodie, hands still furiously rubbing at his wet hair with a towel when the doorbell rings. His heart is in his throat knowing that you’re only a few feet away behind his front door. The doorbell rings a second time, breaking him out of the panic-induced freeze he’d been stuck in.

“Coming!” At least, he sure hoped he would be.

He’s steeling himself with one last deep breath before he throws the door open. He has his most charming smile plastered on his face and a warm welcome on the tip of his tongue. All of which immediately dries up and dies on his lips when he’s finally faced with seeing you in the flesh.

All your streams had you in comfortable clothes, soft fabrics and modest necklines but the woman on his doorstep is a vixen. His eyes are pulled down by a gravitational pull outside of his control. They pass through your hair hanging loosely around your face, pausing at the skin of your cleavage peeking through the low cut of your top, flesh straining against the right fabric across your chest. His gaze continues further down to the pleated skirt that ends dangerously high on your leg, letting a smooth expanse of skin catch his attention before it disappears into your thigh high socks. He’s hypnotized by the soft pudge that is created where the fabric of your sock digs into the meat of your leg. His mind is reeling and thoughts of bite bite bite are bouncing in his empty cranium. 

“You’re drooling.” It’s a reflex to bring his hand up to his mouth to check if a little bit of saliva had ended up pooling at the edge of his open lips, but it comes away dry. Just the start of the teasing he knows he’ll be subjected to. 

“I- uh, thighs.” 

The loud laugh that echoes around him finally breaks him out of his hypnosis. “Yes, very astute. Are you going to let me go inside or are you intent on giving your neighbors a show?” His brows furrow at your words until he follows your eyes down to his groin where his dick had started to press against his sweatpants, forming an embarrassing tent.

His hands are quick to cover up, cheeks heating in humiliation. Why is it always so easy for you to get a reaction out of him? You haven’t done anything at all and here he is, boner out for anyone to see like some horny teenager.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, voice quiet enough for it to only be heard between you. He gets out of the way to open up the doorway for you to come in, then closes the door behind you, making sure to check that nobody in the neighborhood had been privy to this shameful moment. 

“I swear I can control myself. I’m not some sort of animal.” It’s only once you’re fully in his living room, eyes drifting to every corner and taking in his space that he notices the black bag you brought along. “What’s in there?”

Your smirk is devious, inching slowly as your eyes darken. “Training materials, of course. You see, I figured out your issue. Your main flaw is your lack of focus and that’s because you’re not actually a gamer, you’re a streamer. You’ve programmed yourself to respond to distractions, like incoming subs and donations so you can reply and interact with your chat. It makes for a good influencer and entertainer, but breaks your skills for whatever game you’re playing.”

“So I have to practice staying focused and ignoring distractions?” he asks. You’re nodding in reply. “Okay, that makes sense. How are we going to do that?”