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A pathological litigator to the bone, Jeon Jungkook DOES NOT accept anything he hasn’t read or written himself. He doesn’t break any laws just to get a win of course, but he most certainly walks around them every once in a while to get his way. It’s crucial to be assertive but NOT aggressive, otherwise he can’t lull the other party into agreeing to his terms. You’re no exception to the rule.

Which is why he packages your impromptu meetup as “Let’s get coffee” rather than “I wanna negotiate how I’m gonna use you for my personal gratification.” 

He hasn’t penned a deliberately verbose “Terms of Use” to bury his motive under a pile of ‘hereinafter’s or anything. There is no 50 Shades-style cringe contract to sign. He just asks for one thing, and it’s so concise and straightforward that his motive stands before you buck naked. 

With a blinding spotlight cast on it for good measure.

“For 24 hours, I own your whole life, so think it over carefully,” he ends his pitch. “And if you decide you wanna do it, give me a three-day window.”

“Three-day wi— Why even?” you stare at him, slightly suspicious.

“Where’s the fun if you know exactly when it’s gonna happen?” he flashes you a devilish grin. 

So think you do.

It isn’t what Jungkook might have you do that you contemplate so hard, staring at your bedroom ceiling. You interrogate yourself brutally to find out how much trust you’ve really deposited in him over the years. Whether it’s enough to let him take the steering wheel of your life, even if it’s for 24 hours. Feelings or not, there is no other person you lean on as much as him when it comes to serious matters, but… 

What if he doesn’t consider this serious at all? What if this is just not that deep for him? At the end of the day, it’s just a game you play. 

Are you overthinking this for no reason at all? It’s not like the guy’s gonna have you rob a bank—the most he’ll do is ask you to suck his dick somewhere risky. 

But how risky? 

Would he just not give a shit because he has the reins for one day? Would you somehow find yourself between a rock and a hard place? What if you agree despite all his disclaimers and still end up in a situation where you have to say no? Would he be disappointed? Would you be disappointed by what he asks of you?

Do you not trust him enough after all? 

Well, it’s not like you have to say yes. Your cab negotiations had NO condition that you have to give him unlimited access to have sex with him. Technically, you can just say no to the free use part, tell him it might be a bit much for you, and still keep fucking him. Dude’s been getting no action for three years; it’s not likely that it’ll be a dealbreaker.

But your morbid curiosity eats the last bit of your trust issues like Pacman after a three-year fast. YOU HAVE TO KNOW WHAT THIS IS LIKE!

You grab your phone and send a text to Jungkook, declaring your three-day window as Friday to Sunday. Before you can assume a sleeping position, however, your phone goes off with notifications back to back, vibrating itself to the very edge of your nightstand.

From: HAHA JK (unless? 👀) tomorrow night before you go to bed change the batteries of your bullet sleep naked with that inside you in OPERATING condition and don’t leave your keys in the lock istfg i’ll call a locksmith

Reading that to-do list, your stomach does three front tucks back to back and sticks the landing perfectly. You know your entire blood supply is rushing to your face right now because the pillow feels colder out of nowhere. Jungkook’s going to be here to own your life for one day. He will say, and you will do. It suddenly feels like you’re going to get on one of those rides that freefalls from a jillion feet tomorrow night.

Wait, tomorrow night?

You lunge at your phone and wake up your screen. The time shows 00:04 and the day tag reads “Thur”. You haven’t discussed “business hours”, but does he intend to be here at 12 a.m. sharp or something? 

So… in less than 24 hours? 

On a business day?

HOLY FUCK THAT’S SOON!!!

You spend your entire Thursday with your heart clawing at the bars of its enclosure. Did he deliberately ask for a THREE-day window so he could pick a business day no matter what? Is he actually going to come to work with you tomorrow? And if so… what for… exactly?

All of a sudden, you catch yourself looking at every corner of your office with an interior designer’s critical eye. Your desk, the couch across it meant for your guests, the conference table, the gigantic windowsill… And once you see the ultra HD porn that manifests in your mind, depicting how you’d get fucked senseless on each surface with him breathing down your neck, you just cannot unsee it! 

You may have had a hands-free microorgasm, but that’s besides the point.

You deliberately bury yourself in work for the rest of the day just so you’d be tired enough to go to bed early, but NO fucking dice. No matter how much you try, you can’t sleep a wink because of whatever frat party’s going on in your chest and stomach. It’s such a jumbled mix of emotions that you can’t tell what it really is. Is it fear? Excitement? Anxiety? Anticipation? Fexcitetycipation?

Before you can properly decipher the Inside Out situation, however, Jungkook’s spare keys turn in the lock, and you hear your front door open at exactly 12 a.m. It wasn’t even part of the ‘assignment’, but in a panic fit, you decide that you’re gonna pretend you’re asleep, hoping your heart thumping in your ears isn’t audible from the outside.

The rest of your senses are so alert that you can hear a hair strand fall, really. 

The front door closes, and keys slide into the lock again, turning with satisfying clanks. Footsteps approach closer. Jungkook’s cologne walks into your bedroom long before he does, bringing a bit of night chill with it. Something like a duffel bag softly thuds against the floor. The rustle of clothes being discarded fills the room, but there is no movement towards you. The footsteps fade away. In the distance, the squeak of a faucet melts into high-pressure water bursting from the showerhead, immediately followed by Jungkook humming a tune to himself. 

You almost crack up. 

His presence in the house gives you so much peace that it erases whatever weird amalgam of emotions was pressing on your ribcage earlier. All you feel is giddy excitement now, glowing with a bit of the warm and fuzzies.

Shortly after, the water stops running. The shower door slides open. The footsteps approach again, but this time, there is movement towards you. You feel a balmy breeze blowing your way courtesy of the scalding hot water Jungkook loves showering with, carrying hints of your shower gel with it. You’re not supposed to peek to keep your façade, but you’re dying to know what he looks like half-naked under the sultry lights of your nightstand lamps. 

Well, it’s dark enough. You just need to make sure it’s not obvious.

“Hey, beautiful,” he softly whispers.

IS THIS FUCKING PART OF IT? 

The way your heart races would put the entire F1 roster to shame. Does he know you’re awake, or is he saying shit because he thinks you can’t hear him in your sleep? In any case, you’re glad to be protected by a fabric firewall because that throb between your legs would snitch on your lack of REM sleep big time. 

Turns out it’s probably gonna snitch anyway since Jungkook decides your hiding days are over.

The bed dips a little with his weight, and he carefully peels the thin blanket off of you. When the heat you’ve been preserving under the covers vanishes into air, the chill that licks your body marks the wet parts with a frigid X. 

You have not realized you were dripping a little on your sheets. 

But you know the bullet has nothing to do with it. You know because the pulsating sensation only manifested after Jungkook set foot into your house. The moment he set foot, actually. 

Simp much?

A satisfied hiss hits your ears, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, large hands delicately caressing you. When you finally jump the gun and open your eyes the tiniest bit, you kinda understand why he wanted something stimulating you in his absence.

He’s drooling like a starving hyena staring at your sopping wet pussy.

“Delllicious,” he licks his lips, contently exhaling. “Thinking good thoughts of me?” 

The correct question is, when do you ever not?

He settles between your legs and removes the bullet very very carefully as if he’s trying not to knock down a Jenga tower. He clicks it off, and out of nowhere, places the most tender kiss on your clit.

Obviously you would flinch!

He doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask you if you’re awake or not. He just chuckles with his eyes closed and continues with his kisses. Maybe that’s his way of trying to lull you to sleep, who knows?

He slowly gets back on his knees, removes the towel clinging to his waist, and drops it on the floor. Yet again, you can’t be sure if he’s putting on a show or just doing things knowing you’re “not there” to perceive him.

But when he smears your slick on the bullet all over his cock and gets hard right in front of you…

HOLY F—!

“All of this is mine to play with now,” he presses his tip on your pussy. “I wanna show up in your wet dreams.”

AS IF he doesn’t already!

You think this is the part where he starts fucking you, but he seems to be just teasing himself. Jungkook must be the only man in existence who holds up the promise of “Just the tip” because his tip is literally the only thing that’s in, fucking you only very very shallowly. He can just full-on bury himself inside you, but he just strokes his cock to accompany that barely-there contact.

Maybe he’s a man after your own heart, relishing the climb a lot more than the fall.

“I wanna be the only thing you think of when you pleasure yourself,” he quietly utters, which turns into a grunt like he’s in mild pain. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

The correct question is, when is he ever not?

Oh, you can’t pretend. You can’t pretend you don’t hear him. You can’t pretend you don’t feel him. You can’t pretend you’re not about to lose your damn mind watching him float in ecstasy just from this much; there’s just no fucking way. 

“Do it properly,” you urge him, voice convincingly hoarse from keeping silent. “This isn’t hard enough.”

Jungkook sees your half smile and reflects it back at you with a maniacal one. He throws your legs on his shoulder, getting ready to hit deep.

“Did you see me in your dreams?” he whispers, even though there is no one else sleeping in the room.

“Will you cum inside me if I did?” you clasp your hands behind his nape.

“I’ll cum inside you even if you didn’t.”

Cannonballing into your lips, he takes off, precise thrusts hitting just the right spots. He refuses to let your lips go, even if it means less oxygen for him. The sounds he makes would make an unsuspecting listener think he must be having the meal of his life, the way he moans in delight with such wet sounds. 

When he notices he’s about to hit the finish line, Jungkook picks up his pace, sprinting at full speed, but he only allows the first burst inside you. Then he quickly pulls out, fervently stroking himself to coat your pussy with himself through and through. Watching those thick strings drip from your clit down to your hole…

If he physically could, he would cum again.

He settles between your legs and spreads them as wide as he can, just admiring the view of your creamed cunt. So vulnerable, all spread for him to please. So delicious. Absolutely mouthwatering. He licks a long drag from your entrance to your clit, smiling into your pussy when it makes you shiver. He wraps his arms around your thighs, closes his eyes, and begins to have the meal of his life.

For real this time. 

Of course he notices you moan louder when he stimulates certain spots, but he doesn’t care. He just indulges in your taste mixed with his however the fuck he wants, licking, sucking, slurping to his heart’s content. But his heart’s only. He doesn’t care if you pull fistfuls of his hair when you cum, arching into his mouth with a damn near scream. He doesn’t care if you thrash under him, trying to get away from the ticklish feeling. He doesn’t care if you beg him to stop. He just eats.

And eats.

Then eats some more.

“Shh, shh, shh, you can take it. Just enjoy what it feels like to selfishly receive,” he kisses your clit.  “And you’ll receive a lot today.”

Jesus christ, if you knew this was what the Free ‘The Big Spook’ Use™ was, you would have suggested it eons ago!

“Jungkook, I… I need to get some sleep,” you yawn, finally feeling the weight on your eyelids after the massive relief. “Work… tomorrow.”

“Then sleep. I’m not stopping you.”

“You know I can’t when you…! You know when you’re… You… You know…”

“Then that’s just too bad,” he serenely smiles at you. “I’m so in the mood to play.”

Play… Playing with him… Being his plaything when… he’s so in the mood…

What the fuck is this Satan’s spawn doing to you? Are you somehow getting bewitched?!

The play part is all fun and games, but there is only one problem with it. And it’s a big one.

When you agreed to this, you were somehow under the impression that Jungkook was going to treat you like an object, and you were fully prepared for it. Because he made it sound like something super dark, physically and mentally taxing, with high potential to leave a very bad taste in your mouth. You were expecting to feel bad, or at the very least… challenged. You expected to struggle.

Yet what he’s doing, the way he’s moving…

It’s a lot more dangerous than the alternative. It moves like a duck, quacks like a duck, but you’re supposed to convince yourself that the cute white fluff waddling your way is NOT a duck. Because you kinda have to.

Otherwise you’re gonna believe he loves you, and not like a friend at all.

“Turn around,” he taps the side of your thighs. “Arch your ass for me. There you go.”

Oh, okay, there it is.

This is the shoe, and it’s about to drop. This is where you get your ass spanked, hair pulled, and get called a bunch of profanities while he drills you into this bed. You get into position as instructed, and when you feel his heat behind you, you brace for impact.

Something does land on your body, but it’s not a smack. It’s just a kiss between your shoulder blades. A wet one that makes loud sounds.

You’re going to draw your last breath in this bed tonight.

He makes his way down, kissing along your spine, and stops on the small of your back. You feel his hands on your hips, and he continues kissing your waist as if he wants to suck some poison out of you. His breath on your skin is like a hallucinogen, making you imagine a reality that will never exist. 

Every time he presses those damn lips on you, you’re getting a little more delusional.

His kisses move further down. It tickles when he grazes his teeth on your hips, taking gentle bites from it, and a moan cuts your giggles in half when his tongue dips into your pussy. He licks into your hole like he wants to quench his thirst after being forced to stand under the desert sun for hours.

“Shh, steady,” he urges as he fondles you a little harder. “Hold it.”

“B–But I’m… I’m s… c–close.”

“Should I stop?”

“NO!”

“Didn’t think so,” he chuckles. “Don’t interrupt my fun now. I’m really enjoying myself here.”

If he doesn’t want his goddamn fun interrupted, then maybe he should fucking take it easy with the very thing that’s gonna RUIN IT!

Of course he doesn’t stop. He just keeps licking, licking, and licking, gradually sinking his fingers deeper into your supple flesh as a pseudo-warning with each glide of his tongue, but you can’t help it. 

How can anybody help it when they are fucking ascending in his mouth?!

“What did I just tell you?” he heaves an exasperated sigh.

“I’m… s–sorry, it was just… too good,” you speak through your stuttering breathing.

“Is that supposed to be a good excuse?”

Jungkook doesn’t seem amused at all. His face is straight, his voice is stern, and he gives you zero clues to correctly guess whether he’s playing a part or not. Your only fallback option is to take his annoyance at face value and assume he’s indeed not kidding.

“Are you mad?” you hesitantly ask.

“No, but I’m upset,” he responds with a pout, brows knitting tighter together. “I asked for one thing, and you completely ignored it.”

“Can I make it up to you?”

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”

He flips you around to face him, then grabs his cock, pumping himself to full hardness.

“Now I’m gonna fix myself another plate, with extra frosting this time,” he rubs his tip around your sodden folds before he aligns his cock with your oozing hole. “If you interrupt me again, I will not be as nice, and everything you’re paranoid about will happen.” 

A sense of dread settles in your chest. Okay, so this is the shoe. You won’t be able to resist his relentless attempts to snap you, and he’s finally gonna have his excuse to punish you.

Who knows just how much your acute worry is blaring on your face, the way his features instantly soften.

“But if you make me happy, I’ll make you happi–er,” he emphasizes. “Are you gonna behave now?”

You just nod in response as if you have swallowed your entire vocabulary. He flashes you a warm smile, and something tingles in your chest.

“Then let’s kiss and make up,” he steals your lips for the umpteenth time.

The phantom death grip on your throat suddenly loosens. With every kiss, whatever anxious feeling was trying to break in gets shunned away. It’s like you’re spellbound. 

He is bewitching you, you’re sure of it now.

Arms and legs tangled with one another, Jungkook fucks you dangerously slow and deep, and it’s so much worse than having him pass through you at berserk speed. Because you can feel every inch inside you. You can feel exactly how his girth grazes against your swollen walls. You can feel that spot the curvature of his cock hits just right. You would much rather get fucked senseless and messy, preferably with his soft kisses replaced with spanks, because then you could guarantee with absolute certainty that you wouldn’t cum. 

Yet this motherfucker is HELLBENT on forcing an orgasm out of you.

You steady your breathing to the best of your ability, trying to distract yourself by thinking the unsexiest thoughts. The overstimulation helps a bit, but at the end of the day, you can’t put a leash on fucking biology. 

You can’t put a leash on your fucking feelings!

Your mind is damn near convinced you’re fucking a boyfriend who’s insanely in love with you because the only thing missing from the scene is Jungkook whispering ‘I love you’s in between his kisses. He holds you in his arms, playing with your hair, kissing you endlessly, softly moaning with every thrust, and you’re on the very brink of just screaming at his face, “Either marry me, or give my fucking sanity back!!!”

And when he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck, something finally snaps within you. You do cum, but he doesn’t seem mad this time.

“I’m really sorry! I just… I couldn’t help it!”

“Shh,” he soothes you immediately. “That was some solid effort.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I’d never get upset when I know you didn’t just drop the ball. It’s the thought that counts,” he runs his fingers through your hair with a smile. “You made me very proud.”

He then sits down to finish his plate with extra frosting, and you find yourself in a ceaseless loop. He eats. Then you fuck. Then he eats. Then you fuck. It’s like the man runs on unlimited stamina, and you realize you’ve literally fucked until morning when your alarm goes off.

To no one’s surprise, you’re thoroughly and utterly spent.

“Good morning,” he grins at you. “Slept okay?”

“Oh, fuck you, Jeon.”

“Still? Damn, you are insatiable.”

You slap his arm and break into a smile yourself, albeit a very fucked out one, and grab your phone to turn off the alarm.

“Alright, I need a freezing ass shower to stay awake for the rest of the day,” you lock your screen and rub your eyes.

“Turn off your phone.”

You look at him questioningly, but he doesn’t flinch, looking dead serious. You fulfill his request, and he pulls you back to bed again.

“Now turn off your brain.”

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to do it, but it kinda helps when he kisses your forehead.

“Today, you do everything I say, no questions asked. You do it to make me happy,” he caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers. “And if you make me happy?”

“You’ll make me happier?” you snort.

He offers a click of his tongue paired with a wink as wordless confirmation. 

“You seem a bit too giddy about all this,” you observe.

“Fuck yeah, I am. I’m the birthday boy, and today all my wishes come true,” he lands a slap on your hips. “Get your ass up, I’m making pancakes.”

“Are you sure you’re doing this right?” you furrow your brows as you get up from the bed. “Everything so far was as if I’m the birthday girl.”

“They haven’t published a strict rulebook to follow yet. Might just spoil you rotten, who knows?” he smirks. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Hm?”

Jungkook gets on his feet and walks to you, holding your face in his hands. He looks into your eyes with so much meaning that you don’t even have to ask, “Are you for fucking real right now?”

“Starting right now, you do not talk unless I let you,” he instructs. “Is that clear?”

Oh, okay, so this is the shoe, then. Right?

You nod as you try to remember what you had on the calendar for today. Not that you have much of a choice after everything that transpired…

“Good,” he places a tender kiss on your lips. “Go take your shower while I make breakfast.”

You’re properly dazed when you get under that water because nothing about this makes any goddamn sense. Bro claims he has trouble getting hard and sustaining it, which he calls an affectile dysfunction—a.k.a. he allegedly only gets turned on to specific things. The circumstantial evidence from a club alley and steamy hotline action kinda sorta suggests he has a bit of a thing for cum. And mayyybe the idea of sharing his partner as well as being watched. So far, so good.

Yet this morning, the aching between your legs begs to fucking differ.

It wouldn’t be entirely off the mark to call what you did all night making love. Not a shred of kink, except for his staple cum thingy. That was quite literally softer than all the sex you had with your actual exes combined. Is it ridiculous to think he popped a pill last night to be able to perform? Or…

Is Jungkook… lying to you about some things?

You wake up from the thoughts you’re lost in when the shower door suddenly slides open. Jungkook randomly joins you to take a very quick shower next to you in silence. Once he’s done, he reaches for the shower door, but stops at the last second.

He grabs the loofah from your hands and turns you around to wash your back. Since you’re on “timeout”, unless he says things, it’s dead quiet, and the lack of snarky remarks starts to feel awkward. You need something to remind you that he’s still the egomaniacal asshole, otherwise…

Otherwise…

Jungkook hands you the loofah back, and with yet another quick peck on your lips, he finally exits the shower, leaving you to rinse your body. You wonder if you’ll be able to wash some other unwanted things off if you scrub yourself hard enough. 

Unbothered to operate a blow dryer, you just blot up the excess moisture from your hair with a towel and follow the delicious smells with your fluffy robe still on. When you reach your destination, however, the breakfast table is so damn lavish that it makes your jaw drop, hard enough to cause a sizeable dent in the floor. 

Did he fucking SHOP last night because you didn’t even have this much stuff in your fridge!

“No, that’s not where you sit.”

When Jungkook majestically cockblocks your blossoming fling with the scrambled eggs, you stare at him a little annoyed, still standing. He holds your hand and pulls you towards himself, pointing at the floor with his eyes. 

“On your knees for me.”

Oh…

No, that’s… Is that the shoe?

“No, I’m not gonna make you eat there,” he responds as if he can read your mind, then takes his cock out of his gray sweatpants. “Fluff me.”

Maybe you’re a little bit ashamed of the sigh of relief you discreetly let out.

When you get on your knees, you realize Jungkook really meant what he said last night. It was by design, but all you did was indeed selfishly receive. Everything. You didn’t even lift a finger for his pleasure.

You look up at him with a smile and drag his sweatpants all the way down, spreading his legs a little wider. Your hands caressing his sides, you start with kisses on his thighs and move your way up to his balls, then his shaft, then start climbing towards his tip. You trace the bulging veins on his cock with your tongue, relishing the breathy moans he lets slip, but before you even take him in your mouth, he stops you.

“Fuck, you’re gonna ruin my appetite if you keep doing that,” he flashes you an already fucked out smile. “Come up. I saved you a seat.”

When you rise to your feet again, he undoes the belt of your robe first, taking a moment to enjoy the view. He then turns you around and makes you sit on his lap.

Directly on his cock.

“Comfortable?” he asks, pushing a little further inside you. 

You nod and reach for the fork to seduce the pancakes this time, just to get cockblocked yet again.

“No,” Jungkook grabs your hand and puts it back down. “I’ll feed you.”

FEED YOU?

Oh, god, this is even worse than the kiss-fucking. Just what the hell is he PLAYING AT?!

Other than driving you clinically insane, that is.

“Point. Which one do you want?”

You point at the raspberry ones you’ve been rizzing up, and Jungkook sticks a fork in one, cutting it up into little pieces, then feeds you the first bite. Your eyes roll back with how orgasmic that taste is. 

“Good?” he smirks at your enthusiastic reaction. 

You fervently nod, and Jungkook begins his princess treatment in earnest.

He actually hand-feeds you everything you want, one arm wrapped around your waist caressing you from time to time. You feel him get hard inside you, occasionally throbbing, which makes you silently giggle. But he’s treating you so well that you’re getting suspicious as to when the use part will begin.

When you’re finished with your pancakes, you reach for the little bowl that has cut-up peaches in it, and he immediately stops you again, but this time, you stare daggers at him and break free. He heaves a deep, annoyed sigh, clearly about to get mad, but when you turn to him with a piece of peach hovering over his mouth, he instantly softens. He lets you feed him the plump fruit, licking the juices on your fingers a little, and having absolutely no impulse control, he pulls you into a kiss.

WHY IS EVERYTHING SO SOFT?!

His kisses are a bit heated this time, turning into gentle bites. He starts fucking into you with his idle fingers playing with your clit.

“God, I can’t stop…” he pants into your neck. “You feel so good.”

The whole thing is like a summer rain. It quickly escalates, he rains on you, and it’s all clear skies and sunshine again. He calms down as he catches his breath in the crook of your neck, then continues with the breakfast as if nothing had happened just now. It makes you chuckle.

“Full?” he asks when you stop his next bite. 

You nod.

“Did you like it?”

You nod again.

“Then give me a kiss.”

FUCKING STOP!

But of course you don’t, because the day you say no to kissing Jungkook, you need to be checked into a psych ward. Of course you kiss him even though it’s horrendously domestic. Your heart flutters when he kisses your breasts.

“Now that you’ve finished eating, I can start.” He taps on your side for you to get up and clears half the plates to make space. “Sit on the table.”

You look at him all incredulous, but considering how he sits back on the chair, it wasn’t a figure of speech. You sit on the table, and he pulls his chair closer, pulling something out of his pocket that looks like a lube bottle. He opens the cap and holds it under your nose.

“Does it smell good?”

You nod.

“It’s edible,” he grins. “Spread your legs for me.”

Unlike his M.O. that you know by heart by now, Jungkook doesn’t dive right in. He drips a bit of the oil into his palm and coats his hands with it, then starts massaging your lips carefully to soothe the “burn”, observing your face every once in a while for any signs of discomfort. 

Then comes the happy ending. Well, sort of.

He buries his head between your legs, but is extra gentle with the way he moves. Nothing rash or hard. Just little licks and a lot of kisses, keeping you wet, as if he wants to relax you rather than “have sex” with you.

And while watching him work, you take the deepest breaths of your life to not make a sound. 

“It’s okay, you can moan,” he graciously permits. “It doesn’t count as talking.”

He makes you whimper a little bit with his salacious spa treatment, but makes no effort to make you cum. Because this isn’t to make you cum. 

True to his word, the man is literally just having breakfast.

“Time to go get ready for work,” he checks his watch when the alarm goes off, then starts clearing the table. “I’ll take care of this.”

You don’t know what to feel as you change. It’s like you’re in a limbo, stuck between cloud nine, ten, eleven and recurring car crashes. Does Jungkook have an actual motive here, or is he just winging it? If he’s winging it, why is he winging it like that? 

If you somehow survive these twenty four hours and find yourself holding onto a shred of hope, you’re fucking doomed.

“Pencil skirt. Hot.” 

It’s uncanny how he keeps manifesting when you’re mid-spiral, and this time, he aborts your self-talk as you do your finishing touches in the bathroom.

Come to think of it, this might be the very first time Jungkook sees you in business casual.

“If I was your boss, would you stay late for me?” he puts his hands on your hips, gently rubbing you. “Let me take the day’s stress out on you?”

You’re slowly starting to believe your own theory that he uses some sort of enhancement because just how can he be this horny all the time? He has to be on something!

But maybe it’s a bit contagious because you find yourself grinning at his reflection in the mirror with a nod.

“Of course you would. You’re my plaything,” he hikes your skirt up to your waist. “God, the way I’d make everyone die of jealousy, fucking you all over my office at all hours of the day.”

You stop moving as he drags your underwear down, watching him take his cock out in the mirror. It’s like you suddenly can’t multitask at all.

“Shh, just do your makeup,” he urges as he slides inside you.

This is like the breakfast table all over again. His thrusts are lazy because he doesn’t fuck you to cum. It’s just for fun. Just because he feels like snacking a little bit. 

Fucking easier said than done—you’d like to see how he drafts his deposition when you suck his dick. Christ!

Once he gets his fill, he puts his pants back on, but removes your underwear altogether. He stares into your soul in the mirror as he licks it.

“No panties for you today. I’ll be keeping this,” he rolls the fabric into a ball and puts it in his pocket. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

He has something in his hand that looks like a microscopic vinyl sticker. He removes it from the paper and carefully places it right behind your ear, clearly loving what he sees. 

“Beautiful,” he kisses your neck with a content smile. “Ready when you are.” 

When he leaves the bathroom, you hold up a hand mirror to see what the heck you’ve just been branded with. It’s not a microchip to track your GPS or anything; it’s indeed a sticker of sorts that looks like a fake tattoo.

It just has the letters JK on it. 

As Jungkook drives you to work, you try your best to come off your strange high to no avail. The fresh air that caresses your face, the coffee you’re sipping from the gigantic tumbler, nothing seems to work. Your heart still beats erratically, and you feel entirely disoriented.

“I’ll pick you up at 6, and we’ll get some dinner, okay?” 

What?

So this tantric torture is supposed to continue outside. Very cool. You curse a mouthful at yourself for your self-fulfilling prophecy with the “Haha yeah the most he’ll ask is to suck his dick somewhere risky.” There you have it. 

You nod at him and open the car door, but he grabs you by the arm before your feet can touch the ground.

“No kiss?”

JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS HIS PROBLEM?

That’s it. By the end of these twenty four hours, which suspiciously feel like forty eight, you’re going to have a massive meltdown. You’d like to call your lawyer to revise your last will and testament before you say goodbye to this cruel world, but unfortunately, your lawyer is Jeon Jungkook!

Yet he looks at you with such sad eyes that one has to be a heartless monster to say no to him. Of course you kiss him even though it’s horrendously domestic. You kiss him with too many butterflies in your stomach, and you start dying immediately when he lingers.

Free use, my ass. Dude’s straight up free using your heart.

You successfully make it to noon without going crazy. At least the ache between your legs seems to have soothed. There are no meetings scheduled and no fires to put out—it’s one of those legendary Pokémon status rare days where you can just lock in and be productive without any interruptions.

So naturally, that’s when your door opens without a knock, and Jeon fucking Jungkook struts in wearing one of his damn bespoke Pradas, looking like an absolute whore.

“Thanks, Aileen,” he flashes an extremely charming smile at your secretary, but when he closes the door, his face turns almost demonic. You stare at him with an expression that yells, “The FUCK are you doing here in your harlot attire?” pointing at the suit that seems brand new.

“Oh, this?” he dusts off his shoulder and adjusts his cuffs. “Figured I should look nice for our lunch date.”

You almost spurt the water you’re sipping on in a very Looney Tunes fashion, but he doesn’t seem like he’s joking. He approaches your desk in slow motion like the OG demon that invented lust and speaks very very quietly against your lips.  

“Found this great restaurant that serves the best food,” he tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb. “Thought we could spend your lunch break there. Sounds good?”

You nod, unsure if you’re a little scared or massively turned on. Jungkook holds your hand and helps you get up, but when you reach for your bag, he suddenly stops you. 

“I didn’t say the restaurant was outside,” he smirks, running his fingers down your cleavage. “I almost turned the fucking car around after dropping you off. I barely made it to lunch.”

He starts hiking your skirt up again, and your head inadvertently turns to the door. 

“Shh, it’s fine,” he quietly reassures you. “Do you trust me?”

DO YA?

Just how many prophecies have you come up with within the span of a few days? It’s like every drastic “What if” you tried to workshop decided to go “Actually, nuh uh”, coming true one by one scarily fast.

But it’s Jungkook. If you’re not gonna trust him, then who can you possibly trust?

You eventually nod.

“Good girl,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Stay like this.”

You have no idea what the heck is going on when he lies on your desk out of nowhere. He lets his head dangle off the edge, looking up at you, then pulls you by your hips to mount your pussy on his mouth. Once he positions you, he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock, gently pressing on your back to lower yourself on him. You can’t believe that you oblige without so much as a “Uh, hello?” tap on the shoulder.

Are you… fucking sixty-nining this man on your DESK right now?

You can’t tell if it’s because of the gargantuan amounts of risk, but you don’t remember ever feeling this much thrill in your entire life. The heroinesque high seems to even change Jungkook’s taste as he fucks into your mouth. He’s suddenly this sweetest forbidden fruit that you have to take a bite from at least once a day, his decadent flavor growing more and more intense on your tongue. It’s as if time stops. You can’t perceive, nor care about anything that isn’t Jungkook. Just Jungkook’s taste. Jungkook’s scent. Jungkook’s pleasure. Jungkook.

Jungkook. 

Jungkook.

When you convulse on his face with muffled moans, he finally lets go and floods you, holding onto your hips for dear life. He sounds completely out of it, and you’re no different. Consuming every last drop, you peel yourself off of him, wondering if he was relentlessly kissing you to nuke whatever inhibitions you may have.

Because you feel full-on drunk.

“Had to make it a standing lunch for time constraints. We’ll get a private room next time,” he bites your lips, then lands a playful smack on your ass. “See you in a few hours, beautiful.”

After Jungkook leaves, you just plop down on your chair, just zoning out. A literal case of “no thoughts, head empty”. The purpose of today is to have you spiral out of reality, apparently. What the heck just happened? Even when you were appraising the porn-tential of your office furniture yesterday, this wasn’t one of the possibilities. 

On the bright side, you strangely feel full as if you’ve had a 10-course meal.

Unfortunately, the glow of the day ends there when Aileen drops a bombshell in your office, requiring you to get into a nasty fight with corporate communications. In the blink of an eye, it’s like your horny delusions only happened in your head because there is zero drop of elation left in your veins with how red you’re seeing.

“Oh, FUCK YOU, how many times are we gonna have to tell you to do your fucking JOB?!”

Your afternoon from hell reaches its climax with you fervently pacing in the room, spelling out extremely basic stuff on the phone, frothing at the mouth and getting frighteningly close to going on a rampage. You’re so deafened by your fury that you don’t even realize Jungkook is standing by your door until you turn around. Still cursing away, you check the time, then cover the receiver.

“It’s 5:30. You’re early,” you address Jungkook rather quietly, then immediately return to your call. “AS IF you know how to follow a deadline. I wasn’t talking to you!

“You’re talking,” he speaks, brows dangerously knit together. 

“It’s work,” you echo his tone to a T before ending your call. “Oh, jesus fucking christ, just do whatever you want!”

You slam the receiver back in the cradle, rubbing your temples to come down from the extreme stress high. Meanwhile, someone doesn’t think you deserve that kind of break. 

“You think this is a fucking game?”

You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, in sheer disbelief that he’s actually serious right now. The expression on his face reads like a mixture of anger and disappointment. 

You should declare yourself a witch at your earliest convenience because the very thing you’ve been dreading to come true is actually coming true.

“Jungkook, this is—”

“Work, yeah,” he starts taking slow steps towards you. “What was the very first thing I told you? This does not happen at your convenience. It happens at mine.”

“I know, but it’s—”

“I asked you to think it over carefully, and I told you I own your life for 24 hours,” he recounts the terms of your deal you already know too well. “This is how you hold up your end of the bargain?”

“Will you calm the fuck down?!” you protest in frustration, quickly dimming your volume to a loud whisper. “If someone hears this, I’ll get fired!”

“Then you need to decide,” he stands right before you, barely two inches away. “You either trust me, or you don’t. There is no in between.”

Do you not trust him enough after all? 

Jungkook is the most cautious man you know. He makes a living out of fine print and loopholes, which gives him some diabolical superpower that makes him think of conditions that never occur to anyone. It’s probably why he has a huge zero under his “Cases Lost” column. 

And it would be a lie to say that his OCD meticulousness isn’t a huge source of reassurance for you.

“You either actually believe that I do shit with complete disregard of consequences on your life,” he continues slowly, “or you don’t.” 

Jungkook is… the most cautious man you know. To the point of insufferable actually. And not too long ago, you even said it to him yourself. 

You’d never do something without covering your own ass first. You’re way too cautious.

Why do you feel fucking duped all of a sudden?

“What were you talking to Aileen about this afternoon?” you ask him, slightly annoyed.

He doesn’t answer you. He’s not necessarily smiling, but something in his features has changed. You know that look from somewhere, and it makes you wanna choke him to death for playing elaborate tricks on you.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” he insists. “Do you or do you not trust me?”

“I do,” you reply with no pause this time.

“Show me.”

You have no idea how you can provide conclusive evidence that you trust him, so you do the only thing you can think of. You hold his face and kiss him, and Jungkook’s knees almost give way, quick to melt into your lips. 

But when you pull away, he changes his personality at the snap of a finger like he’s changing shirts.

“Since you loooove talking so much, I’ll give you a few words to say,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Apologize for your disobedience.”

Way to put you on the spot like that.

You don’t even know what anything is anymore. The lines between reality and make-believe are completely blurred. One minute, he is Jungkook; in the next, he is this repulsed-by-disobedience dom from hell.

Which one are you talking to?!

“I–I’m sorry,” you avert your eyes from him.

“Tsk, you can do better than that,” he purses his lips. “Apologize.”

What does he want exactly? If he had given you a syllabus that mentioned apology methods were going to be on the test, you would have surely studied accordingly!

“I… apologize,” you try your luck again.

“Still not convincing,” he shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

He takes one more step towards you and puts his hands on either side, trapping you between him and the desk.

“Because you’re not sorry for what you’ve done, are you?” he leans in. “You’re sorry you got caught.”

He sneaks a hand under your skirt, caressing your pussy with a single finger. You gasp when he harshly turns you around, breathing down your neck just like the ultra HD porn that has manifested in your mind the day before.

“Are you gonna do it again?” he snarls into your ear.

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“I–I promise.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out the underwear he’s been carrying around the whole day, making you bite on it as a suppressor again. You hear the belt unbuckling behind you, and flames swallow your body whole.

“If you break your promise to me one more time,” he aligns his cock with your entrance, “I will not be so forgiving.”

He rams himself into you with a sharp thrust, but even though he moves hard, it’s no different than what’s been happening the entire day. He’s not fucking you to cum, nor is this a punishment. He just communicates with sex. It’s literally body language—when he gets mad, so does his body. When he feels calm, so are his touches.

“Get your stuff,” he puts his pants back on after maybe only ten seconds. “We’re leaving.”

After sufficiently collecting yourself, you walk out for the first time the whole day, and what you see, or rather don’t see, surprises you. There is no one outside. 

It’s as if… someone told them to… vacate the floor… or something.

It’s tense when you get in the car. Real or not, Jungkook still looks super mad, but also super hot with his tongue pressed inside his cheek, driving with one hand with his legs spread wide. He takes an exit and gets on the freeway to beat the rush hour traffic. The road is empty. It’s silent. You have the optimal conditions to think of ways to get in his good graces again. 

If you try the playful route, you’ll probably get hit with “Don’t get cute with me. I’m still mad at you.” If you get aggressive, it’ll probably make things worse. You think and think and think, and at long last, a lightbulb goes off in your head.

You can communicate with body language, too. With words that are “Up to his standards.” 

Maybe he will find it creative.

“W–What are you doing?” he stutters in panic when you reach for his belt.

You act like he doesn’t even exist, just minding your own business, and take his cock out. You can see drops of you have dried on him, and it puts a perverse smile on your face. You start with a few licks to clean up after yourself, and soon after, he’s already melting in your mouth. One hand on your head, he guides you up and down, loving the way you work him.

When he hits a critical threshold, he switches to the left lane and slams on the gas. 

The speedometer climbs to the right side as if to match your faster rhythm. The needle is at the one o’clock position when he tangles his fingers in your hair. Then two o’clock when you start moaning into him. Then three o’clock when you start sucking him harder. 

Then four o’clock when you take him deep, deep down your throat.

“Oh, fuck. FUCK!!!”

His fingers let go of the wheel when he cums, and those two seconds he allows himself to possess no sanity are the hardest rush he feels his entire life. He’s so high that he is NUMB from head to toe. His autopilot abruptly kicks in, and he slows down, eventually pulling over and killing the engine. He leans back with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying to come back down, but he’s at the stratosphere. 

How are you not supposed to break into the most smug smile anybody has ever flashed with how proud you are?

You gently tap on his shoulder, and he somehow musters enough strength to roll his head to his right and half-open his eyes. 

“You fucking killed me,” he quietly utters, extremely fucked out. “Switch with me. I forgot how to drive.”

“I believe I earned the right to talk now?” you rhetorically ask with annoying amounts of confidence as you settle in the driver’s seat.

“Oh, hell yeah, you even earned the right to make me your bitch for life,” he enthusiastically approves.

“It’s concerning that all it took was getting your dick sucked,” you roll your eyes.

“I may be a world-class whore, but you can’t catch me folding like a napkin just for anyone,” he instantly refutes. “Jesus, that was some god-tier head. I’m still seeing stars.”

“That means you fake-forgive me after your fake tantrum, I guess,” you knowingly smile at him. “But if I catch you telling my people to start fake fires to test me one more time, I’ll fucking kill you, Jeon.”

He smiles back and looks at you with something different in his eyes. Something that makes your heart race again. He reaches for your face and leans in, and when he kisses you in that darkness of the empty freeway, it feels like you’re back in your bed with him again. 

“We’ll make a stop before dinner,” he puts in an address in the navigation and stretches one arm behind you. “Drive, baby.”

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