summary: after you break down on the side of the road, the last thing you expected was for a charming, successful music producer to pull over and change your life. after months of spending endless nights together, romantic dates, and an isolated vacation, you both find the kind of forever most people can only ever dream about.
themes: domestic au, age gap (namjoon is 33, reader is 24), intimacy, lots of fluff, straight husband material, joon spoils spoils spoils, baecation, vacation au, smut, pure porn with some plot, joon is slightly possessive, he's whipped, he's touchy, small time skips, older boyfriend namjoon, he wants to marry her already, vacation smut, protective joon, nicknames
warnings: descriptive & explicit smut MINORS DNI 18+ (hard dom! namjoon x sub fem reader, fingering, daddy kink, lots of praise/dirty talk, oral f & m, ass slapping, breast play, slight size kink, slight impregnation kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cream pie, missionary, doggy style)
word count: 8.2k
.・゜-: ✧ :-
six months into loving namjoon, it was mornings that basically became your most favorite part.
of course, the exclusive events, studio nights, and the lavish dinners were absolutely delightful—especially with him always close at your side. his big palm would always be laying on the small of your back while his lengthy body towered over you like your own personal security guard.
but it was more than just that, more beyond the attention that came with being seen besides him.
it was just mornings like this—soft, white, and expensive sheets tangled around your legs, the faint warm light of the early morning stretching through the floor to ceilings windows of namjoon's large bedroom.
the city of los angeles would still remain quiet beneath you, but you two would already be warm and half awake besides each other.
his big, beefy arm would be wrapped around your waist, holding you against his chest like even in his sleep, the last thing he would ever do would be letting you drift too far away.
you would smile every time—brain still fuzzy with sleepiness and eyes closed when you feel his lips brush lazily against the back of your head, pulling you in closer when he first woke.
one kiss, then another, then another. it was slow and sleepy, like kissing you was all his slumberous brain knew. "morning baby," he murmurs, voice always deep and rough with sleep.
and god, his nicknames still got you, even after six months. you tilt your head back slightly against him, smiling softly. "you're awake?"
the quietest hum leaves him, vibrating against your back softly. "been awake," he muttered against you. "just like holding you."
your heart melted instantly, skin practically melting under his warm touch. it could be deemed as embarrassing, honestly—the way this man—your man, could still ruin you with one sentence.
his large hands slid slowly along your thighs and up to your stomach, beneath the oversized shirt you stole from him months ago and never gave back.
namjoon was addicted to touching you in a way that drove you absolutely over the moon—it was like he had to be touching you at all times, no matter where it was. but when you two were alone, it was inexplicably different, like his fingertips were devoted to memorizing every inch of your skin.
"you have work today?" he asks quietly against your hair.
you sigh dramatically. "unfortunately."
he's silent for maybe two seconds. "call out."
you laugh immediately. "there it is."
his grip tightens around your waist slightly before he's burying his face in your neck, shooting warmth down your spine. "i'm serious, baby."
"you're always serious, joonie."
"because i like you here," he muttered, placing the softest kiss along your neck. "need you here."
if you weren't laying down, your knees would've absolutely buckled and failed on you. you turned slightly in his arms so you could look at him properly, heart melting at the sight of his face.
his hair was slightly messy, eyes slightly low from the early morning, skin and broad muscles effortlessly glistening in the low light. still unfairly handsome as always, still already looking composed first thing in the morning. his eyes took you in slowly, dimples growing quickly at the sight of your face.
"you realize i have responsibilities right?" you murmured.
a small smirk touches his mouth. "you're with a man who can buy a car before breakfast," he replied calmly. "i think we'll survived one missed shift, baby."
your cheeks warmed instantly at those words. namjoon had said things like that so casually now, like taking care of you was only the most natural thing in the world.
you shook your head softly. "you're ridiculous."
"no," he murmured, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against yours. "i'm in love with you."
those words had come so easily between you two now. it was so natural and constant, it almost felt like breathing. you smiled widely before kissing him softly. "i'm in love with you too, joonie."
and the way namjoon looked at you after that, even after all these months, still made your stomach do flips. his gaze was still as intense as ever, like he still couldn't believe you were real. however, it wasn't much different for you—your brain sometimes malfunctioning at the fact that he was really yours.
a few minutes later, you're sitting on the kitchen counter wrapped in one of his hoodies while he cooks breakfast in sinful gray sweats and a black t-shirt.
it was almost more attractive than the suits, making your lips tug between your teeth as you shamelessly eyed him from behind.
the kitchen smelled like coffee and butter, low music playing softly though the large house while bright, morning sunlight poured across the marble floors and countertops.
namjoon moves through the kitchen confidently, one hand holding a pan while the other absentmindedly reached for your thigh whenever he walked past you. because again, he always had to be touching you.
"you know, doll," he says casually while plating your food, "you basically live here already."
your eyes lifted immediately. "you say that every week."
"because every week you leave more stuff in my house."
you laugh softly. "well, maybe i'm marking territory."
he lets out a real laugh, low but warm, and you can practically hear the dimples in his tone. "baby," he murmurs, setting the plate down before stepping between your legs, "if you move in, this stops being just my house real quick."
his big hand comfortably settled on your thigh again, like it was the only place it belonged. you looked at him for a second that felt too long, taking in the softness in his eyes and the certainty he carried quietly in his calm expression.
and suddenly, you were able to picture forever with him like it was the easiest thing in the world.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
eight months later, you find out about it on a random tuesday night.
namjoon was sitting at the kitchen island with his laptop open, reading over contracts while you stand beside him, stealing pieces of fruit from the plate you cut for him ten minutes ago.
his reading glasses were on again—which still unfortunately did something unexplainable to you. he sat there casually, chin rested into his palm while his long fingers rested over his mouth like he was deep in thought. the sight made your thighs shift helplessly.
"you know," you said thoughtfully, like you were trying to find the right words while you popped a strawberry into your mouth. "you've become weirdly... domesticated."
a small smirk pulls at his mouth, but he doesn't look up from the screen. "and you've become annoying."
you gasped jokingly. "wow."
"mhm," he responded lowly. he finally glanced to look up at you, once hand sliding naturally to your hip when you stepped closer and in between his knees. he was always touching you, always pulling you in like he needed more.
then, he closed his laptop in a way that made your eyes narrow. "that was suspicious," you say.
a quiet laugh leaves him. "you're free in two weeks, right?"
you shrugged slightly. "depends... why?"
his hand slid along your thigh slowly. "because i'm taking you somewhere."
your stomach flipped instantly, pink heat immediately coming up to your cheeks. "where?"
"the maldives," he replied simply.
you blinked at him, once, then twice. "...what?"
he looked completely calm saying it too, like he hadn't just casually announced a vacation that most people could only dream of and had to spend years saving for. "we leave next friday."
you stared at him in complete disbelief. "you're joking."
"i don't joke about beaches with crystal clear water, doll."
his calm tone made you laugh immediately. "joon," you started, still half laughing, "i can't just go to the maldives next friday."
"why not?" he asked, out of pure genuinity, tilting his head slightly.
"i have work, silly."
his expression changed instantly, nothing but confusion etched on his face. "okay," he said slowly. "quit."
you practically choke on your own breath. "you cannot be serious."
"i'm very serious." he pulled you closer by the waist until you were fully standing between his legs, his hands resting comfortably on your hips.
"they never approve my time off," you muttered quietly.
his jaw tightened slightly with anger—not at you, of course—but anger for you. anger towards your stupid job that made you work too hard and too much for his liking. "you've been stressed for weeks," he says. "i barely see you awake anymore, baby."
"it's just work, joonie," you pouted.
"no," he corrected calmly. "it's people making your life way harder than it needs to be."
your heart twisted violently at the way he said it like it personally offended him that you were overwhelmed with work. you looked down briefly. "i just don't want to depend on you for everything."
immediately, his hands tightened slightly at your waist again. his fingers weren't harsh, they never were. they grounded you, holding you against him and the moment.
"baby," he murmured softly, making your gaze find his again. "when have i ever made you feel like you couldn't?"
your chest tightened. because not once had namjoon ever made you feel that way.
his thumb brushed slowly along your hip beneath the fabric of your shorts. "i don't even want another problem touching that mind of yours if i can help it," he said quietly. "and i can."
god. you swallowed hard, knees growing weak.
"i love taking care of you, baby."
"i know," you whispered, eyes not leaving his.
his gaze softened even more. "then let me."
silence filled the kitchen, the air hitting you soft. the city lights were glowing through the massive windows behind him while his hand rested steadily against your waist like he already knew exactly where you belonged.
which was with him of course, being taken of and loved properly.
"you really mean that?" you asked quietly.
"baby," he murmured. "i'd give you every single thing you ever needed before i let you be somewhere that makes you miserable."
those words were what broke something inside you. it wasn't the money or the vacation or the luxury of it all—it was the pure sincerity. it was the fact that this powerful, yet composed man loved you so much that he wanted to remove stress from your life entirely.
tears began to burn at your ears unexpectedly, causing you to laugh softly in embarrassment.
namjoon's expression only softened further. "hey," he murmured softly, pulling you against his chest and enveloping you into his big arms before a single tear could escape. "what happened?"
you shook your head against him, smiling. "you just love me a lot."
a quiet laugh leaves him, buzzing low and warm against you. "yeah," he agrees softly in your hair. "that's been your problem from the beginning."
you laugh again, wrapping your arms around his neck. you sighed softly, like you still couldn't believe this was your reality. "...okay," you said softly.
he stilled slightly. "okay what?"
you pulled back enough to look at him properly, his eyes fixing onto yours immediately. "i'll quit, joonie."
the look on his face after those three words escaped your lips had tugged at your heartstrings. his expression became immediately relieved, like you finally quitting your terrible job had instantly settled him more than it did you.
his hand slides up your back slowly before he kisses your forehead. "good," he murmured softly. "now i can take care of you properly."
.・゜-: ✧ :-
the maldives didn't even feel real.
from the second you and namjoon land, everything was too beautiful for your brain to register that this was the same earth you lived on.
the private plane ride there alone was already enough to leave you speechless. cream leather seats, a bottle of champagne waiting for you to board, and a flight attendant greeting him by his last name.
and namjoon? well, he was completely unfazed by any of it, of course.
meanwhile, you stood there, one of his large hoodies pooling around you while you stared around at the cabin like you had just accidentally walked into a dream.
he notices immediately, like he always did. "everything alright, baby?" he asked softly, amusement pulling slightly in his tone.
you turned, only being able to look at him in disbelief. "you own this kind of life and never warned me?"
a small smirk touched his mouth before he placed a large hand on your lower back, guiding you into one of the spacious seats. "would've scared you off too early, doll."
but from there, it only got worse, because the villa he booked was absolutely insane—sitting above crystal clear water that was so blue it almost hurt to look at. you gasped in genuine awe, clearly taken aback from the beauty, making a smile pull at namjoon's lips.
the wooden walkway stretched across the ocean itself, leading to a large and lavish private room shielded by white linen curtains that drifted lightly in the wind. the bedroom door opened directly to the water, like the ocean belonged to the two of you and no one else.
when you first walked inside after namjoon held the door open for you, you were completely at a loss of words. he just simply watched behind you quietly with his hands in his pockets, looking more satisfied by your reaction than the place itself.
"you like it?" he asked casually.
you turned to face him slowly. "this place cost more than my entire existence."
a low laugh leaves him again, the one that you loved so dearly. the one that pulled at the core of your heart and made your knees weaken a little bit. then, he stepped toward you slowly until his hands settled your waist. "you don't have to think about things like that anymore, baby," he murmured.
that sentence landed deep into your chest, etching their way into every vein of your heart. because you knew that he meant every word he said.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
the trip itself became the most heavenly blur of warmth and intimacy. but more than anything, it made you two completely addicted to each other.
swimming together in the ocean until sunset and him pulling you closer onto his lap. secluded dinners while the waves crashed softly beneath you. and of course, his sunglasses hiding the way he watched you constantly in your tiny bikinis that drove him absolutely insane.
you and him spent afternoons tangled together on long chairs beneath the sun, his hand resting lazily beneath against your thigh while you dozed off on his chest.
and every time you laughed and smiled at him, he looked at you like he still couldn't believe you were real.
being together, just the two of you for days straight, alone in the middle of the blue ocean with no distractions, no schedules, no interruptions—had let the both of you see every version of each other.
you see just exactly how gentle namjoon truly is beneath all of his confidence and composure. the way he brushes your wet hair out of your face after swimming, and when he automatically reaches for your hand every time you stepped outside of the room, like separation could never be possible between you anymore.
but namjoon seems to only have fallen even harder.
you being in his life felt nothing less than like nature. it felt utterly effortless, like it was the only thing that was destined between you two, and it almost scared him in a way.
because you had already turned his normal, cold, and polished daily routine into something warm and exciting without even trying. but now, you were here, laughing barefoot through the villa with one of his shirts hung over your wet, cheeky bikini that was only meant for his eyes.
you, curled up against his chest patiently while he bitterly answered his one and only work call—(he made sure they wouldn't waste his precious alone time with you for the rest of the trip again)—tracing patterns absently against his arm while he talked, almost failing to sound stern because you made him so so soft.
you fell asleep on him every night like you trusted him with your whole heart, and while you definitely could—that trust absolutely ruined him in a way that made the core of his heart ache.
but for some reason, the first night there was different.
by the time you had returned to the villa after swimming and dinner, the sun had already disappeared completely, which had left the sky a dark blue outside the large windows.
the day felt warm against your skin, everything smelling like saltwater, sunscreen, and namjoon.
you were barefoot, skin still damp beneath one of his loose white buttons-up that you threw on after showering. and the second you walked back into the bedroom, his eyes lifted from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, stopping on you immediately.
and with his gaze the room seem to become smaller, the atmosphere becoming hotter and thick around you. by this time, the beach had settled down to windy night—so it definitely wasn't the weather.
he leaned back slightly against the bed, gaze moving slowly over your bare legs, to your hardened nipples beneath his shirt. his eyes took in your damp hair, gazing over your freshly sun kissed skin. he sat there casually in a white t-shirt and a vicious pair of tom ford boxers that did absolutely nothing to hide his growing bulge.
namjoon's intense gaze still did nothing but affect you in every way possible, making your steps slow. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip in anticipation you couldn't even hide anymore. "what?" you asked, not even fighting the smile on your lips.
the lowest laugh left him, and you swear you could the vibration of his voice through your core. "c'mere."
your stomach instantly did flips, nothing but butterflies filling your entire body as you walked toward him slowly. the second you're close enough, his hands are already sliding along your thighs, pulling you right in between his thick legs.
your hands automatically came to his thighs to steady yourself, nails lightly tracing against his skin in a way that almost ruined namjoon's calm composure. his head tipped back slightly to look at you properly, like he had to take his time with simply admiring you.
"you trying to kill me walking around like this?" he asked lowly, his thumbs pressing slightly against your inner thighs.
you tried to ignore the fact that your anticipation was now smearing on your legs, laughing softly whole you brushed through his slightly messy hair. "you're dramatic."
"no," he replies calmly while his eyes dragged slowly across your face once again. "you're just so beautiful."
with that, he shut you up immediately, large hands sliding higher along your thighs beneath his shirt. his large hands coating your skin with his warmth in a way that seemed obsessive enough to make your brain split in half. "and sexy," he grumbles lowly, almost like a growl.
and the way he touched you now, after eight months of being together just felt different. his hands were driven by familiarity, like he knew your body just as well as he knew his own. like he knew exactly what drove you crazy.
namjoon pulled you closer, long fingers wrapped firmly around your thighs. then, he leaned his head down, brushing his plump lips slowly against the inside of your thigh. you almost moaned, the contact sending electrifying shivers throughout your body.
"fuck," he murmured quietly against your skin, like it was to himself. "do you know what you do to me?"
the words hit you in the head, the room starting to feel heavy around you with the distant sound of waves crashing softly outside.
his large palms trailed further up your thighs, fingers finding their way to cup your inner most thigh. you gasped, shivering under his warm touch.
the most devious chuckle left his lips before he clicked his tongue. "tsk tsk, naughty girl," he mumbled lowly, one large thumb coming to rest on top of your clit. "no panties for daddy tonight?"
you shook your head, fighting a moan with a bite of your bottom lip. his thumb pressed harder before rubbing it back and forth painfully slow. your legs squirmed between his, wetness sopping miserably between your folds. "wanted it to be easier for you, daddy."
"mm," he hummed slowly in approval, two large fingers moving so lightly up and down your soaked folds. "just landed today and you're already a problem, hm?"
you could only nod your head desperately before one of his fingers slid in between your folds, catching a glimpse of namjoon's low eyes clouded with nothing but darkness and hunger, tongue treading over his lips slowly as he took in the sight of you.
his long finger dragged slowly back up to your clit, lightly pinching it between his thumb and index finger, making a moan come out of you. "joonie, please..." you whispered, one hand tangled in his hair.
you felt his free hand slither to the back of your thigh and finding their way immediately to your ass cheek, slowly massaging it in his large palm. "hmm...?" he hummed lowly, acting like he didn't hear you, like he couldn't see you squirming underneath his touch. he sat two warm fingers patiently above your folds like he owned time.
"please..." you whimpered. "want you to touch me, daddy."
"mm," he hummed again, sliding one thick finger in between your folds, slipping through your arousal. "that's my good girl," he muttered, placing a thick kiss against your thighs once more as he inserted a finger inside your aching hole.
you moaned out, tiling your head back as you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach with pleasure. his thick finger pushed further into your pussy, your walls clenching around him and sucking him in immediately. your slick shamelessly coated him as he entered another finger inside, thrusting in and out of you slowly.
namjoon's lips found your thighs once again, littering wet open mouthed kisses along your thigh before making their way just above your pussy. his thumb massaged your clit in leisure circles while his fingers stretched you out relentlessly.
you gripped onto his broad shoulders to support yourself, knees becoming flimsy by the second. "hope you know," he grumbled lowly against your skin, "'m not planning on being gentle with you, tonight, doll."
as if his fingers weren't enough, his words ignited your entire body like a match to a flame. you simply couldn't bring yourself to respond, your manicured nails digging deeper into his shoulders as your stomach twisted into a familiar pressure.
but namjoon soon pulled away, the warmth of his fingers leaving your pussy with nothing but the cold night air. you whined out in confusion, desperate eyes peering up at him.
one large hand slithered to your ass slowly while his tongue treaded across his lips, low gaze taking you in hungrily. the other palm found your jaw, pulling you down and finally, crashing your lips against his. "need you to come in daddy's mouth, pretty girl," he murmured against your lips.
you nodded eagerly as your mouths moved against one another messily, like kissing each other was the equivalent of oxygen. namjoon's lips took yours greedily in with his—but slowly, even sucking on your bottom lip like he needed to preserve every inch of you. his hand was still on your jaw, slightly tilting your head in a way that allowed him to kiss you deeper.
with your lips on his, your manicured nails found themselves around the hem of namjoon's boxers, one hand slowly palming against his painfully strained bulge.
he grunted lowly at your touch, his head tilting back slightly. his low eyes whirled dark with desire, patiently awaiting your next move. his lips began sucking and licking at the skin on your neck as your dragged your nails underneath his shirt and up his abs.
"doll," he murmured, one large hand placing a light smack! against your ass. "what happens when daddy gets impatient with you, hm?"
you gasped at the contact, trying to hide the thrill seeping through your core. you fake pouted, fingers tugging at the edge of his shirt before pulling it up and tossing it somewhere in the room.
your hands trailed back down his abs before settling at the hem of his boxers and pulling them down. they pooled around his ankles, his long fat cock springing free in front of you.
even after eight months of being together—after eight months of being filled to the brim with his thick cock almost every night—it still somehow surprised you every time.
you got down on your knees immediately, a sight that made namjoon's tip leak with desperate precum. your hands wrapped around the wide base, eyes peering up innocently at him as you stroked it slowly.
namjoon moaned out lowly, his tongue licking over his lips with thirst. one large hand finding its way into your hair before twisting it into a makeshift ponytail, holding onto it loosely. you felt your legs weaken at the possessive action, your nose nearly being met with his raging tip.
you extended your tongue out, taking your time with exploring the base of his cock before making your way down to his tip, licking at the salty precum. you found your lips wrapping around his thick cock, a guttural curse emitting from namjoon's throat.
your mouth explored his cock freely, his hand wrapped gently in your hair as you bobbed your throat up and down his veiny length. "good fucking girl," he murmured as you sucked him in.
soon enough, he began to guide you further up his base, making you sputter ever so slightly before quickly accommodating. one of your hands pumped the rest of his length while the other rested on his sculpted leg for your stability. you let his large hand lead your mouth back and forth across his thick length deliberately, pushing him into your a few inches deeper.
salty tears pricked at your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks around him, nails now leaving white trails that would soon turn red into his thighs. his length took up every fucking inch of your mouth and throat and you felt your breathing begin to stutter.
"shh, breathe, baby girl," he cooed darkly, continuing to guide you along his length while one hand settled lightly at your jaw. "you look so pretty choking on daddy's dick."
your arousal was pitifully coating the floor beneath you in slick, shifting your thighs in a way namjoon immediately. he was incredibly close, but namjoon wanted to save every drop of his seed to paint your walls entirely white.
with a sharp hiss, namjoon guided you off his cock by your hair. the warmth of his length left your mouth with a plop! sound, and immediately your chest was heaving dramatically for air.
"gonna fill your little pussy full with daddy's cum, baby," namjoon grumbled breathlessly, pulling you off the ground and in between his legs again. "hm? how does that sound, pretty girl?"
you nodded quickly. "need it, daddy." a hungry smirk pulled at his lips before he pulled you into another soft kiss.
"good," he praised lowly. both of his large palms settled on your ass before you were abruptly in the air with your legs around his waist. his lips found yours again as he walked you towards the other side of the bed, both hands holding you tightly against him.
you melted against him, making small noises that absolutely ruined him as he kissed you roughly. he tossed you softly onto the bed, a thick strand of saliva stringing between you before your head lightly met the pillow.
namjoon crawled on top of you, his eyes clouded with darkness as he took in the sight of you below him, peering up and him innocently and waiting for his next move. it drove him absolutely fucking insane. you were a complete dream to namjoon, nearly sweeping the air from his lungs at the mere vision of you.
with one hand by your head and the other trailing down your neck lightly before cupping your boob, he enveloped your lips between his once more. soon, his lips made their way along your jaw. “look at you…” he cooed lowly, his breath shooting down your neck sharply. “all the way out here with me.”
his finger hooked along the hem of your shirt before dragging it off slowly, his lips automatically finding their way your neck, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin until he mouth was wrapped properly around your tit.
you moaned out in pleasure, immediately melting under the feeling of his warm and wet tongue dancing around your nipples, lips sucking your areola between his teeth lightly. his large hands traveled up and down your body, exploring your skin like already hadn't done it a million times by now.
his mouth left your boobs and trailed lower, your nipples immediately hardening at the loss of warmth. he placed slow kisses all along your waist and down your stomach until his lips settled above your pussy, blowing a soft puff of air against it, the warmth of his breath sending electricity up your spine.
your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but namjoon's large hands stopped them too quickly, pushing your legs even further apart. his thumbs pressed into your inner thigh possessively as his two fingers found your pussy lips again, spreading them apart before he placed a sloppy kiss against your dripping folds.
"fuck," he murmured, practically making out with your pussy as his fingers curled their way back inside your hole. you felt the deep vibration of his voice echoing through your core as his thumb swiped from your entrance and up to your clit. "pussy taste so fuckin' sweet, baby girl."
"nghh—daddy—" you cried out, thighs flexing underneath the burning pleasure. his plump lips fully enclosed around your entire pussy, sucking your folds into his mouth with time and the utmost greed. his tongue dived into your hole, swirling along your velvety walls while your fingers curled desperately into his hair.
your mind was nearly emptied out, vacant with nothing but the obscene noises of namjoon lapping hungrily against your wet pussy and the tightest feeling in your core. you squirmed in immense overstimulation, attempting to arch your back before his free hand found your waist and quickly pinned your hips back down to the mattress.
"stay still for daddy, baby," he grumbled lowly as he took the quickest breath for air, fingers continuing to thrust inside of you. with a flat tongue, he licked the slowest stripe up your pussy before eating at you once more, nose burying in your clit.
you cried out loudly, overwhelming heat and pleasure twisting in stomach. your orgasm reached you soon enough, legs shaking around namjoon's head. your release spilled into his mouth and he quickly lapped every last drop up, dragging his tongue softly along your folds as you came down from your high.
"such a good girl, baby," he praised lowly against your drenched pussy while his large hands rubbed the side of your thighs soothingly.
namjoon placed a lewd, open-mouthed kiss on top of your clit before coming up and meeting your eye level. you reached up slightly, pulling him into a kiss first, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in. you tasted yourself on his lips as your mouths melted together.
namjoon's thumb continued to rub your clit slowly as he rubbed his painfully hard cock along your sodden folds, kissing you deeply while his tongue mapped your mouth ravenously. you arched ever so slightly, instinctively grinding against him with desperation.
"so needy aren't you, doll," he muttered against your lips with one hand wrapped around his cock, dragging it purposely slow along your pussy. he captured your lips in with his once more, the other hand coming up to your jaw. "tell daddy what you want first."
"i want you, daddy," you said breathlessly, absentmindedly bucking up your hips again with your patience running thin.
"mhm," he replied simply, taking the hand off his cock to pin your hips back down as he tugged your bottom lip gently with his teeth. his thumb circled your clit again. "and what else, doll?"
"please—! i want you to fuck me, daddy. to ruin me," you whined quietly, pussy dripping with anticipation.
"mm," he hummed lowly as he softly kissed your jaw possessively, his fat tip now sliding between your folds, thumb applying more pressure to your aching clit. "don't you worry, my sweet girl," he cooed.
he began to push his thick veiny cock further between your folds and directly into your sopping wet core. you cried out immediately, your walls tightly adjusting around just his wide tip as pleasure struck your entire body.
namjoon placed both of his beefy arms around you as he pushed himself further inside of you, earning staggered and breathless sounds from you that only made his cock leak more. "fuck," he groaned out. "you're so fucking tight, baby."
your walls stretched around him almost painfully as he filled you with every inch of his length slowly, tears pricking at your eyes once more from the grueling stretch. it wasn't long before he was in and out of you at a reasonable pace, thrusts becoming gradually harder by the second.
"such a good girl, taking daddy so well," he grunted breathlessly, every thrust expanding your tight, velvety walls, making your hole outline the shape of his thick cock.
your hands found their way onto his shoulders, nails digging and clawing into his muscular, toned back that blocked your entire vision from seeing anything else in the room. he plunged deeper inside of you, chest pressing against yours as he caged you around him, leaving no space left between you.
namjoon took his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. you cried out, legs shaking and your mind blanking to a pure state of euphoria as his cock dragged roughly along your walls, his bulky tip hitting the back of your walls relentlessly, curving perfectly right into your g-spot.
his big hands gripped onto your hips like there was nothing else he was meant to hold, drilling his cock into the deepest part of your walls like there was still more for him to break through.
he buried his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent hungrily and wrapping you in his warmth as he nonstop pounded his cock into you. one large hand curled around your leg, lifting it up and ramming his tip repeatedly against the deepest, hottest part of your hole. he lightly nipped the soft skin on your neck with his teeth.
"gonna fill this pussy all the way up, baby," he grunted down your ear, licking at the skin he had just bit. "gonna ruin you...my perfect little girl."
you cried out loudly, tiny and salty beads of water brimming at your waterline from pleasure and overstimulation. the warmth of his breath and the possessive tone of his words sent sparks down your stomach and straight to your core, making your pussy clench tightly around him.
"fuck," he cursed lowly, smacking his hips into yours with the most lewd slapping noise echoing throughout the room. "right where you fucking belong, baby. you were always gonna end up with me, weren't you?"
you nodded rapidly, pussy squelching miserably at his words. "yes—'m all yours, daddy," you blabbed almost dumbly, gasping for air while namjoon worked every inch of his cock inside of you.
he hummed in approval before kissing you, lips melting into each other with raw hunger. "yeah, that's right, baby," he mumbled against your lips, rutting his cock into you. "fuck, gonna put a fucking ring on this finger one day, baby."
you moaned loudly in response, eyes rolling back and head above the clouds at his cock dragging along your walls and at the thought of being his wife, being his forever. "mmph—yes, yes! want it so so bad, daddy," you whimpered, body moving back and forth on the bed as you took in each thrust.
all of a sudden namjoon was flipping you over, large palms manhandling you to have your face nestled in the soft pillows and your ass in the air. he placed a large smack! onto your ass cheek before slamming his cock into you again—enough to make your hips jerk forward before he snapped them back into place with his rough hands, driving himself inside you.
"yeah?" his voice came low behind you and right in your ear, pressing his chest against your back. "'m gonna make you my fucking wife baby, gonna be mine forever."
"mm, yes, daddy—! please," you cried, his large palms gripping firmly on your ass and smacking it against his cock, shoving his length greedily into your hole. you felt your stomach curving into a heated knot, mind completely lost at the state of bliss he was fucking you into.
"could do this with you forever, and i'd still want more," he grunted lowly, kissing your neck from behind. "can't get enough of you, baby,"
you whined loudly—muffled from the pillows as your body began to tremble beneath namjoon. "cum for daddy, pretty girl," he murmured, licking up your neck with his tongue nastily. "cum on my cock like a good girl."
he plowed his cock slowly into you as you felt your orgasm tear through you like thunder. you screamed his name loudly, tears and drool soaking the pillows as your walls fluttered around him tightly, your juices spilling over his dick.
"gonna fill this pussy up, gonna get you all nice and round for daddy," he growled, hand firm on your hips, thrusting one last time into you before releasing his hot seed inside of you endlessly.
he held your hips against him as he painted your insides with his cum, chasing both of your highs before letting you go. your hips collapsed onto the mattress immediately, chest heaving violently up and down as you felt namjoon's fingers come to press his cum deeper inside you, ensuring you took every last drop.
he placed light kisses on your shoulders before coming down to lay beside you. you rolled onto your back breathlessly to face him, legs now sore and body still shaking.
he smiled immediately once his eyes met yours, quickly wrapping his arms around your figure and pulling you right against him. "you okay, doll?" he asked softly, placing a soft peck on your forehead before coming to your lips. "you did so well, my angel."
you nodded, breathing stabilizing and heart gushing once again. "more than okay, joonie," you smiled, hearing the faint murmur of his heartbeat.
dimples pulled at his cheeks before he captured your lips softly in with his. "good," he whispered against you, his long fingers trailing up your thigh and coming to intertwine with yours.
your eyes never broke apart with his, heart pumping against your chest like it was your first night ever with namjoon all over again. he placed a soft kiss on your hand. "i was done for the second i pulled over for you," he murmured against your fingers.
you laughed softly against his chest, instantly tugging at the strings of his heart. "oh, i was too," you replied, pink tinting your cheeks despite spending eight months of being cuddled up with this man.
namjoon chuckled softly, pulling you even closer against him. "i love you so much, baby," he murmured, placing soft kisses on your face.
"i love you so much too, joonie," you replied, taking his lips slowly in with yours.
the waves of the ocean crashed faintly outside the window, the two of you holding each other closely & lulling each other to sleep with soft giggles and tired kisses.
"you spoil me too much," you whispered faintly, hanging on to the last thread before being taken away by sleep with his warmth completely wrapped around you.
namjoon was the exact same, eyelids getting heavier by the second. but his hand instinctively caressed your cheek—thumb barely moving along your skin. a faint smile touched his mouth before his hand tightened slightly around your legs, pulling you impossibly closer.
"good."
.・゜-: ✧ :-
the rest of the vacation passes like a dream neither of you want to wake up from.
because being alone together like this—away from the noise of the hustling city, away from work—made both you realize how naturally you existed beside each other.
by the time you fly home, you seem to notice little things even more.
the way he kept glancing over at you during the flight like he still hadn't gotten enough of you. like even after spending a week and approximately twenty-three hours away from home—with you and only you—he was still yearning for more time with you.
and the way he said "we're home," automatically when he pulled the both of you into his endless driveway.
home.
the word sunk like an anchor into your chest. because somehow, his house already felt like yours too.
and at this point, you basically lived there anyway. you'd spend over half of your weeks at namjoon's, practically abandoning your own apartment. your skincare lined one side of his bathroom counter and your clothes filled empty drawers in his walk-in closet.
candles sitting next to his heavy duty speakers and equipment. hair clips and lip gloss scattered across countertops.
there were tiny pieces of you in namjoon's house everywhere, he loved every single one of them. in fact, he couldn't get enough.
even if he pretended to complain sometimes.
"baby," he calls out softly one night, stepping over your heels forgotten in the hallway. "one more month of this and i'm charging you rent."
you laugh from the couch. "you're rich, joonie. be serious."
"i am serious," he says calmly, walking over before dropping onto the couch beside you. immediately his large palms are on you, pulling you straight into his lap.
you melted into his warmth naturally while his arms wrapped around your waist. his chin rested lightly against your shoulder, comforting silence filling the air as your heartbeats synced together.
"you should just move in," namjoon says finally.
your heart skipped a beat, red flushing your cheeks instantly. he said it so simply, but you felt everything shift immediately. you turned slightly in his arms. "...you're asking me?"
"i thought i've been asking for months," he replies genuinely.
because truly, he really has. every "stay another night." every drawer he cleared out for your stuff. every toothbrush he replaced before you could even ask.
even so, he watched you carefully now, like you answer mattered to him more than anything else.
"you're sure?" you asked quietly.
his expression changed, softening right away. "baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "you've made this place feel more like home in eight months than it has in years."
"and i love waking up next to you," he added softly, eyes boring into you in a way that made your chest ache. "i love taking care of you."
his large hands slide slowly along your waist. "and honestly?" he muttered quietly. "i'm tired of pretending you don't belong here."
the way he says it so naturally does it for you completely. like loving you was the easiest thing he's ever done.
you smile softly. it's small at first, before it naturally stretches wider at the thought of never having to leave him to go home, because home would be with him. "...okay."
he stills slightly, hands still firm on your waist. "yeah?"
you nodded. "i'll move in, joonie."
the wide smile that spreads across his face afterwards is almost unfair. his big arms tighten around you, pulling you fully against his chest before he kisses you slowly. your lips move together warmly, like you could feel the relief and excitement radiating off of him.
when he pulls back, his forehead rested lightly against yours. "took you long enough," he murmurs softly.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
bonus scene~
it's one of those bright, los angeles days where the sidewalks are a little too crowded and the air smells faintly of saltwater and sunscreen.
you and namjoon walk together, side by side on the sidewalk—him closest to the street, of course—while he's got one hand casually resting at the small of your back. one of your favorite habits he's developed over the months; always guiding you, and always touching you.
as you approach a café, you're both talking about the most random things. he makes a silly comment that makes your smile almost hurt while he opens the door for you, guiding you inside with his other hand.
once you stepped inside, you immediately froze. standing at the counter was your lousy, bum of an ex from almost two years ago.
you physically winced, cringe and utter embarrassment twisting into your stomach at the mere sight of him. these last eight months with namjoon had you forgetting that any man had ever existed before him.
"oh, hell no," you said quietly, only loud enough for namjoon to hear, who was now towering behind you as he closed the door.
"what?"
you whipped around to face him, subtly nodding towards the counter. "that's my ex."
his eyes followed your gaze. your ex at counter looked up briefly, immediately recognizing you too. then, namjoon looks back at you—completely unimpressed. "...that's him?"
you instantly started laughing from his reaction. "don't do that, joonie."
"do what?"
"that face."
"what face?"
"the one where you're judging."
he only smirked. "baby, i haven't said a word."
he takes a step to move forward, but you grab his arm hurriedly. "joonie, wait. i'm kind of... nervous."
those words grab his attention immediately, making his body come to a halt entirely. one eyebrow lifted slowly. "nervous?"
you shrugged. "the breakup was awkward."
he stares at you for a second. "you're scared of him?"
"not scared," you said, him nodding his head in understanding. "i just don't want it to be weird."
he leans down slightly, close enough that his breath barely grazes the top of your ear. "oh please."
your stomach did ten flips right then and there at his confidence—his absolute certainty. his hands came to settle firmly at your waist. "you're with me, baby."
those four words instantly calmed you down, settling your heart rate back into a somewhat normal pace. before you can answer, namjoon is already guiding you towards the register.
your ex, julian, notices you both approaching. his eyes avert over to who you're with, his expression changing immediately.
because standing next to you, was six-foot-something of calm confidence—designer sunglasses and an expensive watch. his posture was straight, yet relaxed with one large palm settled comfortably on your lower back. he walked like he didn't need to prove anything, because he already knew exactly who he was—and exactly what kind of stunning woman he was with.
and, wait a minute—wasn't he famous? julian visibly straightened, swallowing a little too hard. meanwhile, namjoon couldn't even look less concerned. "afternoon," he says politely.
julian greets you both, his posture stiff and his voice tight. then, he looked at you. "hey."
you could only blink, and before you even formulate a response—namjoon answers first. "hey, man." his tone coming friendly and easy.
your ex's attention shifts to namjoon instantly. he orders for both of you—remembering your exact order, because of course he did—all while smiling politely. the entire time, his hand never leaves your waist.
while namjoon pays, julian attempts to make small talk. "so... how have you been?"
before you can answer, namjoon glances down at you, thumb gently caressing the skin on your waist. "good, right baby? he asks warmly.
you stifle a laugh, because you knew exactly what he was up to. "mhm," you nod. "very good."
the corner of namjoon's mouth twitches in satisfaction. julian nods awkwardly, his gaze quickly averting to the ground.
once the payment goes through, namjoon thanks him with a simple smile before intertwining his fingers with yours and walking away. you trail beside him, biting your lip from the incredible urge to laugh.
moments later, your drinks are ready. namjoon picks them up, handing one to you as you squealed quietly in excitement, making a large smile pull at his lips, dimples carving into his cheeks.
and just like that, it was all over. there was absolutely no drama or competition, and you didn't have to say a word to your ex at all.
soon, you're both walking back outside into the sunshine, the heat soaking into your skin right away. you looked at namjoon immediately, laugh blurting from your lips. "you're ridiculous, joonie."
"why?"
"you knew exactly what you were doing."
a cheeky grin quickly appears on his face. "i was ordering us coffee."
you rolled your eyes despite the smile on your face. his hand wrapped around your waist again, pulling you closer against his side. "baby," his voice came low again, the deep tone that always had your knees buckling.
"if a guy is dumb enough to not treat you right and let you go..." he shrugged. "that's his problem."
then, he placed a kiss at the top of your forehead like the conversation was completely finished. because to him, it was. but a few steps later, you catch namjoon looking unusually pleased with himself.
"you enjoyed that, didn't you?" you pried.
the smile he gave you then was absolutely shameless. "a little."
then his arm settled around your shoulders as you continued down the street. "besides," he continued casually. "you really thought i was going to let you stand there uncomfortable?"
your heart melted instantly, absentmindedly pressing your body closer into his side. "my job is making your life easier, remember doll?" he said lowly, pressing another kiss into your hair.
somehow after all these months, namjoon still managed to make a violent pink flush your cheeks with every affirming remark he made. and him? he was absolutely whipped. he was willing to buy the whole world if it meant putting a smile on your face. and he also was already trying to figure out your ring size without asking you.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
a/n: i hope you guys liked this short(?) part 2!🥹 no it is not the end, but i just wanted to show you guys how good older boyfriend producer joonie would treat y/n bc god. he hasn't left my mind honestly. 😩 more to come in for this series in future after i roll out a few more fics <3 love you guys so so much and thank you for the incredible amount of support!
[ :: BTS smut hc ] ❤️🔥 how long until you’re gonna cum
→ if they use their hands 💕
» tags / 18+ only, mdni, bts ot7 x reader smut, rated r, masturbation, lubricants, cunnilingus, edging, service sub!bts vibes but mostly vanilla-leaning. [no ai used]
AUTHOR’S NOTE🌹- hand stuff doesn’t get as much love in fics and scenarios as a main act and i usually focus on writing oral so it’s time to get into this!! bangtan have some very pretty hands going for them, so 👀
You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much to heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
────────────────
a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
→ P R O F I L E 1 | T R U S T F U N D
Titus Danforth
i can taste your skin in my teeth
teaser | 18+
If Titus taught you anything, it's that Heaven is empty and all the devils are here.
✶ READ ✶
hunted
one-shot | 18+
Perhaps not a rabbit, he thinks, but a vixen.
✶ READ ✶
→ P R O F I L E 2 | L O V E R B O Y
Andrew 'Pope' Cody
flick the tip
one-shot | 18+
Pope accidentally cums too early when you're fucking but it's okay, he knows how to make it up to you.
✶ READ ✶
jerk
one-shot | 18+
What if you catch Pope jerking off in your bed with a pair of your panties?
✶ READ ✶
nurse
drabble | 18+
Mommy issues who? Never heard of her.
✶ READ ✶
→ P R O F I L E 3 | N I G H T C R A W L E R
Jack Abbot
freak for you
drabble | 18+
After all, you’re finally right where you want to be after months of endless pining. A nuclear bomb could drop right now and you would refuse to move.
✶ READ ✶
at the same damn time
one-shot, ft. robby | 18+
Are we even friends if I can't share my girlfriend sometimes, and jack off to the thought?
✶ READ ✶
swallow
one-shot | 18+
54 + 55 with dr. abbot at the hospital - “Better be quiet or they’ll hear you.” + “Relax your throat.”
✶ READ ✶
put it on me
one-shot | 18+
“M’not gonna stop until I’ve ruined that pretty face of yours.”
✶ READ ✶
brat tamer
drabble | 18+
After all, it’s not much of a punishment if he gives you exactly what you want, is it?
✶ READ ✶
i reach for you (but you're not mine)
one-shot | 18+
Loving Jack is the same as loving the ghost of a long-forgotten memory, and you are not content to warm yourself on hollow bones and cinders of affection.
✶ READ ✶
snapshot
drabble | 18+
Just a man with his hidden album.
✶ READ ✶
baby don't you know the walls are thin?
drabble | 18+ | NEW
There's no fucking way you're THIS unaware of how thin the walls separating your apartments are
✶ READ ✶
→ P R O F I L E 4 | P E E P A W
Shawn Hatosy
shawn hatosy characters as munches
drabble | 18+
The best eaters.
✶ READ ✶
shawn hatosy characters' fave sex positions
drabble | 18+
Hello there friends, hope you like the next story, I come with this idea after watching several videos and pictures from soundchecks.
The seats were only partially filled, and cables ran across the stage. Staff moved back and forth with headsets and clipboards. The scattered fans who were lucky enough to obtain soundcheck access waited with restrained excitement, their voices low but eager.
You stood beside your best friend in the designated soundcheck area—a space close enough to the stage to hear every echo and adjustment, yet separated from the group of fans. Staff had positioned you there, where the members could clearly see both of you as they walked toward the platform.
You tried to steady your breathing. You had been to concerts before. You had even been backstage. But this felt different. Maybe because today, you weren’t hidden away behind curtains or hallways. Today, you would be right there in the open, visible, waiting.
Your friend nudged you lightly. “They’re coming.”
From the side entrance, silhouettes began to form under the work lights. The members were walking out casually, dressed comfortably, some holding in-ear monitors, others adjusting jackets. They were heading toward the stage.
But then— they shifted direction. They were walking straight toward you.
The first to break away from the line was Suga. As always, he walked with purpose, fast and efficient, hands loosely at his sides, as if he had somewhere important to be—even during rehearsal.
He barely slowed when he reached both of you, but he leaned in smoothly, pressing a quick kiss to yourcheek, then doing the same to your friend.
“Good to see you,” he said quietly, already turning toward the stage. And just like that, he continued forward, climbing up to join the crew.
Right behind him came Hobi. He didn’t simply walk—he bounced with bright energy. The moment he reached you, he wrapped both of you into a crushing, warm hug.
“You came!” he said happily, flashing that radiant smile that seemed too big for rehearsal lighting.
He squeezed you once more before jogging lightly toward the stage with Suga.
Next was RM. He approached calmly, adjusting his mic. He offered you that soft, characteristic smile that revealed his dimple, then bowed his head slightly in greeting—a quiet, respectful acknowledgment that felt sincere and grounding amid the technical bustle.
Both of you bowed back instinctively.
Then came Jin. He gave you a playful wave from a few steps away. “Hi!” he called lightly, voice echoing through the mostly empty arena. As he passed closer, he leaned toward your friend and whispered something into her ear.
Your friend’s face turned bright red instantly.
Jin walked away with a proud, satisfied grin, heading up the stage stairs as if nothing had happened.
The maknae line followed together.
Tae stopped right in front of you with exaggerated seriousness. He extended his hand formally, as if meeting you at a formal event for the first time.
“Nice to meet you,” he said with theatrical politeness.
You and your friend laughed but shook his hand anyway. Tae nodded gravely before breaking into a mischievous grin and stepping away toward the stage.
Behind him, JK approached with youthful enthusiasm. He gave both of you an energetic wink, flashing an enormous smile, then bowed formally—almost too formally—before following the others up.
And then— he appeared. Jimin.
He walked more slowly, adjusting his in-ear monitor, but his eyes were already locked in yourself.
The surrounding chatter of crew members faded into background noise.
He stopped directly in front of you. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed your cheek softly.
You felt warmth rise to your face.
Beside you, your friend quickly pulled out her phone. Jimin noticed.
In one swift motion, he slid his arm around your waist and pulled you gently against him. The sudden movement made you yelp in surprise, grabbing onto his shirt to steady yourself.
Click. Your friend captured the moment.
Jimin leaned closer, his lips near your ear, whispering something in Korean. The quiet rehearsal space allowed his voice to reach you more clearly than it would have during the actual concert—but the distant testing of speakers and a sudden mic feedback burst made parts of it blur together.
You caught only fragments. His breath was warm against your skin.
Before you could ask him to repeat it, he placed another soft kiss on your cheek. Then he stepped back.
He gave you one last lingering look—his smile wider now, eyes shining softly—before turning and walking toward the stage to rejoin the others.
Halfway there, just before climbing the steps, he glanced back at you.
summary: looking for a decent job, you stumbled upon jungkook’s job posting on instagram, what could go wrong?
warnings: playfuldom!jungkook x fem reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, edging, spitting, degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very playful in a degrading way, oral sex, camera sex, pussy slapping, choking, praising, usage of slut, cum eating, marking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple spitting, penetrative sex, creampie.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
“How about being a barista again? There’s a job opening at Moonlit Cafe down the street,” Hari suggested while you sat hunched over your laptop, endlessly browsing through job postings.
You were still a student, graduating next year with bills clawing at your throat. When college started, you wanted independence so badly it ached beneath your skin. An apartment near the university. Your own keys. Your own groceries. Your own life.
Your parents had offered to cover everything without hesitation, gentle and loving as always, but guilt settled heavily in your chest whenever you thought about it. They were already paying your tuition fees. You wanted them to live comfortably too, without worrying about whether their daughter had enough money for rent or food. So you smiled and told them not to worry, drained your savings account for the apartment, and picked up multiple part-time jobs just to prove to yourself that you could survive on your own.
And for a while, you did.
The first two years of college went smoothly enough. You found decent jobs, saved enough money to live comfortably, and even bought yourself a flat-screen TV after months of careful budgeting. Your days blurred into exhausting routines—classes in the morning, shifts at the coffee shop at night, and weekends spent organizing shelves as a bookstore assistant.
You were tired all the time, but it was a satisfying kind of tired. The kind that made you feel accomplished.
Independent. Adult.
Until the coffee shop let you go.
Budget cuts, they said apologetically, avoiding your eyes while handing you the notice. Part-time workers were the first to go.
You still had the bookstore job, but the pay barely stretched far enough to cover groceries, let alone rent, electricity, and university expenses. Asking your parents for help would’ve been easy—too easy—but stubbornness rooted itself deep inside you. There were thousands of job postings online. Surely one of them would take you.
Only they never called back.
Two months had passed, and your savings were bleeding out faster than you could stop them. Every day followed the same suffocating routine: school, assignments, cheap instant dinners, and hours of doom-scrolling through applications until your vision blurred from the brightness of your screen.
You groaned quietly, rubbing your tired eyes before glancing over at Hari, who sat cross-legged beside you on the couch with a milk tea in hand. She had shown up at your apartment earlier carrying takeout bags and your favorite boba, worry written plainly across her face after noticing how little you’d been eating lately.
“I already applied there,” you muttered with a pout, dragging your gaze back to the laptop. “But they want someone full-time.”
Hari sighed dramatically, setting her drink down on the coffee table. “You seriously need to rest. You’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”
Before you could protest, she grabbed your boba and pushed it into your hands. The cold plastic pressed against your palms pleasantly.
“Drink,” she ordered. “And let me do the scrolling before you spiral into another existential crisis.”
A laugh bubbled out of her as she pulled the laptop from your lap, and despite the anxiety twisting endlessly inside your chest, you felt your shoulders loosen just a little.
You pouted lightly, sipping your boba while Hari busied herself with your laptop. Your brows slowly furrowed when you noticed her opening tab after tab with alarming confidence.
“Why are you on Facebook?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, watching her click somewhere else before another page loaded. “And now Twitter? Instagram too?”
Hari rolled her eyes dramatically, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. “Because the jobs on LinkedIn are painfully boring,” she scoffed. “There are tons of part-time job offers on social media. I swear I saw one yesterday.”
She narrowed her eyes at the laptop suspiciously, scrolling with the intensity of a detective solving a murder case.
A laugh escaped you as you leaned against her shoulder, chewing on the tapioca pearls you had missed more than you cared to admit. You’d been saving every spare dollar lately, cutting out small comforts one by one until even buying boba started to feel irresponsible.
“But you don’t even know if those are legit,” you pointed out, tilting your head at her. “The sites I applied to are safer from scams and stuff.”
“I know,” Hari replied instantly. “That’s why we’re looking for jobs with a pay-first policy if it’s online.” She clicked onto another account before adding casually, “And if it’s onsite, we’ll bring a gun in case things go wrong or something.”
You burst out laughing at that, nearly choking on your drink.
“Hari!”
“What?” she laughed too, grinning shamelessly. “I’m just being prepared.”
You shook your head at her usual nonsense, warmth blooming faintly in your chest despite the stress that had been suffocating you for weeks now. Hari always had a way of dragging you out of your own head, even if only for a little while.
The apartment suddenly felt less heavy with her around.
You were honestly relieved that semester break had finally arrived. One whole month without classes. No early morning lectures. No deadlines. No professors piling work onto your shoulders.
But instead of resting like a normal person, you had thrown yourself deeper into job hunting.
Hari hated that.
As your closest friend, she had spent the last week trying to convince you to take a break—to go shopping with the girls, take an out-of-town trip, do literally anything that didn’t involve staring at job applications until three in the morning.
You declined every single invitation.
Your friends understood your situation, but they also thought you were driving yourself insane. Which, honestly, you probably were.
That was exactly why Hari showed up tonight carrying your favorite food and overpriced boba tea, determined to drag you away from your spiral. She kept trying to tempt you into going on a girls’ trip with them, insisting that one weekend away wouldn’t kill you.
But every time you thought about relaxing, all you could picture were your bills piling quietly on the kitchen counter. So instead, you stayed curled up on the couch beside her, stubbornly searching for a job you desperately needed.
Hari was beginning to look almost as desperate as you. Maybe not for herself, but for you—for the way your shoulders had slowly grown heavier these past few months, for the exhaustion permanently shadowing your eyes. She wanted you to land a job already so you could finally breathe again without worrying about rent and unpaid bills swallowing you whole.
Which was exactly why she was now doom-scrolling through Twitter with frightening determination.
“I really don’t think you’re gonna find a job there,” you muttered skeptically, watching her open an alarming amount of random threads. “Most of those look like scams.”
“Wait, wait—look at this!”
Hari suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to the screen, quickly setting her milk tea down beside her like she was preparing for something serious.
Her eyes widened.
“Okay, this one actually looks promising.”
You leaned in slightly as she read aloud.
mnijungkook on ig posted: i’m looking for someone who can take insanely good videos and photos [of me]. i’ll somehow figure out the equipment myself..! please somehow reach out to me! lol, looking for someone to film for me, seriously. and if you’re good at editing too? let’s go on tour together
“There are so many likes and retweets,” Hari said immediately, already opening another tab to search for the original Instagram post. “This has to be legit.”
The second you recognized the username, you nearly choked on your drink.
Laughter burst out of you uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you clutched the cup tighter. Hari blinked at you in confusion while your eyes watered from laughing too hard.
“Hari,” you wheezed out, “That’s Jungkook.”
She stared blankly. “Huh? The boss?”
Another laugh escaped you.
Hari genuinely knew almost nothing about K-pop or Korean artists in general, and moments like this always reminded you just how different the two of you were.
Meanwhile, you had once been painfully obsessed.
You used to stay up until dawn watching livestreams, memorizing lyrics, collecting photocards you definitely couldn’t afford, and keeping up with every tiny update posted online. Back then, being a fan felt like a second full-time job.
But life eventually became busier.
School consumed your mornings, work consumed your nights, and somewhere in between surviving deadlines and paying bills, your fangirl phase quietly faded into the background. You still listened to their music almost daily, still smiled whenever one of their songs shuffled into your playlist, but you no longer kept up with every post or appearance the way you once did.
You guessed you had simply grown up.
Even so, seeing Jungkook casually asking for a videographer and editor on Instagram felt surreal enough to make you laugh all over again.
Not updated enough to know that Jungkook was apparently posting job offers on Instagram now. Or that he was even on tour.
“No,” you laughed, shaking your head as you finally calmed down a little. “That’s Jungkook. From BTS. They’re, like… insanely famous, Hari. This is probably some kind of joke or publicity thing.”
Hari’s brows knitted together in confusion before realization slowly dawned across her face. She clicked onto the Instagram profile, eyes widening at the blue verification check and the terrifying number of followers sitting beneath his username.
Nearly thirty million.
“Ohhh, BTS,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Wait—I think I’ve seen him before.” She squinted at one of the photos. “Wasn’t he in a Calvin Klein ad or something?”
You snorted. “Yeah. That’s him.”
Honestly, you expected her to laugh it off after realizing who posted it. Maybe call the idea ridiculous and move on to another job listing.
Instead, Hari clicked onto his Instagram story again with alarming seriousness.
“That means…” she trailed off.
“It’s probably a joke,” you interrupted immediately.
“This is good pay,” she said at the exact same time, eyes practically glittering now.
Before you could stop her, she pressed the reply button beneath the story.
Your lips parted slightly. You genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or completely delusional right now. Probably both. But either way, you let her continue typing because there was absolutely no chance Jungkook himself would ever see it.
He probably received thousands of messages every minute. Millions, even.
The thought alone felt ridiculous.
“Whatever,” you muttered with a helpless chuckle, giving up entirely. “I’m heating up the rice bowl.”
Hari waved you off distractedly, already multitasking between your laptop and her phone like this had suddenly become her personal mission.
You shook your head fondly before standing from the couch, grabbing the takeout container she bought earlier. The apartment filled with the quiet hum of the microwave a moment later, warm light spilling across the tiny kitchen while Hari continued aggressively applying for a job that definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent was never going to happen.
-
You woke up to the shrill sound of your alarm, already preparing yourself for another long day of job hunting.
Hari went home late last night after spending an absurd amount of time DMing Jungkook and scrolling through social media for more “opportunities,” as she called them. Somewhere between laughing at ridiculous job listings and sharing takeout on your couch, the two of you ended up watching an old Disney movie to help you relax.
She still tried convincing you to go on the girls’ out-of-town trip. You still refused.
No matter how badly you wanted a break, your priorities were painfully clear right now. You needed stability first. A stable paycheck. A stable life. Then maybe you could afford to breathe.
After showering, you made yourself a decent cup of coffee and opened your laptop with a tired sigh, mentally preparing to send out another batch of applications that probably wouldn’t get answered.
Then your phone buzzed beside you. An Instagram notification lit up the screen.
You snorted softly to yourself. “This must be Jungkook,” you joked under your breath, absentmindedly opening the app.
What the fuck.
Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the message sitting in your inbox. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in your mouth.
What the actual fuck?
“Hari!” you practically shrieked the second she answered your call. “Fuck! I don’t even edit videos! I only know basic stuff! I can’t even record properly without my hands shaking!”
You paced around your apartment while panicking into the phone, one hand gripping your hair as you reread the messages over and over again in disbelief.
Sometime after you went to the kitchen last night, Hari had apparently taken it upon herself to completely ruin your life.
She sent Jungkook your entire curriculum vitae.
Not only that—she also wrote and attached a full cover letter explaining why he should hire you.
The realization alone nearly made you pass out.
And when you discovered she had changed your insta profile picture into a formal-looking one while you weren’t paying attention?
You almost laughed and cried at the same time.
It genuinely looked like you had desperately prepared for this opportunity your entire life.
Your eyes skimmed through the cover letter again, horror slowly mixing with something embarrassingly emotional. Hari had written your entire backstory in there—about struggling financially, balancing school and work, trying to stay independent despite everything.
And then she started lying. Blatantly.
Apparently, according to Hari, you were “highly skilled in video editing” with “experience in cinematography.”
Cinematography my ass.
“Hehe… well,” Hari giggled shamelessly through the phone, completely unbothered by your spiraling. Noise echoed behind her, voices and music blending together enough for you to realize she was already with the girls on their trip. “You have to fake a few things to get accepted sometimes, right?”
“Ugh, I can’t do this!” you cried dramatically, pacing back and forth around your apartment while gripping your phone tightly. “I literally don’t know anything about filming! And what if he sues me for faking my skills? He’s famous and influential, Hari!”
Your eyes darted back toward your laptop sitting open on the table, Jungkook’s message glowing on the screen like a ticking time bomb ready to ruin your entire life.
Hari only laughed harder through the call.
“Girl, just try!” she said between giggles. “Watch a tutorial on YouTube or something. Besides…” her tone suddenly turned suspiciously persuasive, “It’s really good pay.”
“Hari!” you screamed again, horrified.
“God, I still can’t believe he actually replied to you,” she continued teasingly. “You must’ve impressed him with your amazing cinematography skills.”
You groaned so loudly you nearly scared yourself.
The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong about the pay.
Your eyes had nearly bulged out of your skull when you saw the amount attached to the offer. There were so many zeros that your brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment.
That was exactly why you couldn’t let it go.
Out of everyone who probably replied to his story, Jungkook somehow answered you.
You. The probability alone felt absurd.
Thousands of people would kill for this opportunity right now, and meanwhile you were pacing around your apartment like you were preparing for a court trial instead of a job offer.
At first, the teenage fangirl buried deep inside you nearly exploded from excitement. The situation dragged you back to years ago—staying up until four in the morning streaming music videos, binge-watching funny compilations, memorizing choreography you could never actually dance, spending money you absolutely shouldn’t have spent on albums and photocards.
Back then, BTS had practically consumed your life. But time passed.
Somewhere between work shifts, college deadlines, and trying to survive adulthood, you slowly stopped keeping up with them. You still listened to the music, of course, but you no longer knew where they were, what they were doing, or how much they had changed over the years.
Curiosity eventually got the better of you. So you stalked Jungkook’s Instagram a little.
And oh.
Oh, he had changed.
A full sleeve of tattoos now wrapped around his right arm, dark ink decorating skin that used to be bare. Silver piercings glinted against his face in ways that somehow suited him unfairly well. His frame had broadened too, shoulders stronger, body lean and built with the kind of maturity that made him almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered.
You were used to soft brown hair, oversized hoodies, black skinny jeans, clean arms, and those wide doe-like eyes that made the entire internet lose their minds.
Now he looked mature. Sharper. More dangerous somehow.
A man instead of a boy. And annoyingly enough, it looked really good on him.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, finally realizing you’d been staring at a motorcycle video he posted for far too long.
You immediately locked your phone and pressed it dramatically against your forehead.
“I cannot fangirl right now or I’m seriously gonna lose it.”
Hari kept telling you to just go for it. “You literally have a whole month off from school,” she argued over the phone while you spiraled for the hundredth time. “This is basically the perfect sideline job.”
Sideline job. As if working for Jungkook of BTS was equivalent to tutoring kids after class.
Your stomach twisted anxiously as you stared at the message again. Every second that passed made you feel like the opportunity was slipping farther away. With the amount of people probably flooding his inbox right now, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind the moment someone actually qualified replied to him.
Your eyes skimmed over his message again, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast.
mnijungkook: hey, i saw your cv ㅎㅎ you really didn’t have to explain everything, but i’m glad you did. i can tell you’re being genuine about this. even without samples, the way you talked about cinematography/editing made me feel like you actually care about it and pay attention to details. sometimes that matters more to me than someone trying too hard to look “professional”
also i get the whole semester break thing. a month is still enough time to try something fun and see if we work well together
don’t stress too much about equipment either because i barely know what i’m doing there yet lol
for payment, don’t worry. if you end up coming with me, i’ll make sure you’re paid well — probably around $20-30k usd for the month depending on the schedule + travel and hotel covered.
send me your contact info? we can talk more properly :))
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I am not passionate about cinematography,” you nearly whimpered to yourself, dropping your face into your hands. “To hell with cinematography.”
The amount of lies in Hari’s cover letter was genuinely evil.
And now Jungkook thought you were some hidden creative genius with an artistic eye and a deep love for filmmaking when in reality you barely knew how to stabilize a phone camera.
You felt sick.
But then your eyes drifted back to the payment offer. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars. Travel covered. Hotels covered. Your bank account practically screamed at you to shut up and take the opportunity.
So with trembling fingers and the overwhelming sensation that you were actively ruining your own life, you began typing a reply. A reply that dug your grave even deeper.
You agreed with him. You agreed that you were a “good editor.”
You added your contact details while simultaneously praying that YouTube tutorials could somehow transform you into a professional videographer overnight.
Your fingers hovered above the send button before you forced yourself to press it.
You: thank you so much for even considering me :D i really do believe i’m a good editor, especially when it comes to making things feel natural and cinematic instead of overdone.
i’d genuinely love to work for you if you’ll have me. i’m willing to learn fast, adjust to whatever style you want, and work hard during the whole month of my semester break.
my contact details are below, thank you so much!
The message was sent instantly.
You stared at the screen in silence afterward, horror slowly settling into every inch of your body.
Yeah. You were doomed.
-
“Wow, what the hell.” Your eyes widened the second you stepped into the hotel room Jungkook had booked for you.
The past few days had moved so fast it almost gave you whiplash. After you sent your contact details, Jungkook immediately messaged you about schedules, filming dates, locations, and travel arrangements as if hiring strangers from Instagram was a completely normal thing for him to do.
Everything had already been prepared before you could even panic properly.
Your plane ticket? Booked.
Hotel room? Paid for.
Transportation? Arranged.
Food allowance? Included.
All you had to do was pack your bags and somehow learn how to film and edit professionally before embarrassing yourself on an international scale.
Easy.
“I am so spoiled,” you muttered in disbelief, slowly stepping farther into the room. It was huge.
Bigger than huge, honestly. The hotel suite looked almost the size of your apartment back home, warm lighting spilling across polished floors and neatly arranged furniture that looked far too expensive for you to even breathe near.
Then your attention landed on the large table sitting near the windows. And your soul nearly left your body.
Equipment. So much fucking equipment.
Two massive black cameras rested neatly beside a smaller handheld one. There was an iPad, a laptop, tripods, microphones, chargers, lighting equipment, and cables so intimidating they looked like they belonged inside a spaceship instead of a filming setup.
Your luggage slipped from your fingers onto the floor with a dull thud as you walked toward the table cautiously, like the devices might explode if you touched them incorrectly.
Your eyes widened even more.
For the past several days, you have been desperately teaching yourself how to edit videos and film cinematic shots. Watching tutorials until sunrise. Memorizing transitions. Learning random camera terms you barely understood.
But you had been practicing with your phone. Your fucking phone.
Meanwhile these cameras looked expensive enough to pay your rent for the next ten years.
You carefully picked one up with both hands, terrified you’d somehow damage it through sheer incompetence alone.
Honestly, you were still shocked Jungkook never asked for samples of your work.
If he had, your career would’ve ended immediately.
The only thing you could’ve shown him was a mediocre CapCut edit with dramatic black-and-white filters slapped over it to make it look “cinematic.”
You groaned loudly, dropping your forehead against the edge of the table.
“Oh my God,” you whispered into the expensive wood. “I’m actually a fraud.”
You nearly lost balance holding the enormous camera in your hands, quickly tightening your grip before your entire future shattered onto the hotel floor in high definition. “Woah, this is heavy.”
Your eyes stayed locked on the equipment nervously as you adjusted the strap around your wrist, trying your best to look like someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because if Jungkook realized how painfully inexperienced you were, he might personally send you back to your country on the next available flight.
You wouldn’t even blame him. The past few nights had been brutal.
You barely slept at all, surviving almost entirely on instant noodles, caffeine, and pure fear while desperately teaching yourself editing techniques through YouTube tutorials. Your laptop had become an extension of your body at this point, constantly running sample footage you filmed around your apartment just so you could practice transitions, lighting adjustments, stabilization, and color grading.
You even studied Jungkook’s editing style specifically.
The pacing of his vlogs.
The soft cinematic filters.
The random zoom-ins.
The casual, natural feeling of the clips.
You analyzed everything like your life depended on it because technically, your rent kind of did. You were getting paid for this. A ridiculous amount, too.
And there was absolutely no way you could afford getting exposed now.
“Okay…” you muttered slowly while fiddling with the camera settings. “This is kinda… easy?”
You said it more like a question than a statement. Still, you forced yourself to keep going.
You searched up tutorials for the exact camera model, watched setup guides, practiced adjusting focus and lighting, and filmed random clips around the room like an aspiring film student fighting for survival.
At some point, you even started taking artistic shots of your coffee cup near the hotel window. For practice, obviously.
Tomorrow was your first official filming day.
According to the schedule Jungkook emailed you earlier, you’d be accompanying him to a golf activity before the concert. He wanted behind-the-scenes footage for the fans—small moments throughout the day, casual interactions, preparations before performing.
And apparently that was only the beginning. Over the next few days, you’d also be filming soundchecks, backstage moments, errands, workouts, rehearsals, and random snippets of his daily routine while on tour.
Basically, your entire existence now revolves around documenting Jungkook’s life aesthetically.
No pressure.
You used his latest vlog as your main reference while practicing, pausing every few seconds to study angles and editing choices carefully. Honestly, the style itself wasn’t impossible to recreate. It leaned more natural than overly polished, which helped calm your nerves slightly.
The problem was you. You weren’t skilled.
And the more you thought about his expectations, the more your stomach twisted itself into knots.
But backing out wasn’t an option anymore.
Not after the cover letter.
Not after the hotel.
Not after the plane ticket.
Definitely not after seeing the paycheck.
So instead of panicking yourself into quitting, you threw every ounce of energy into learning. Practicing. Training.
Like you were preparing for the Olympics instead of secretly faking your way into being Jungkook’s videographer.
You almost had a heart attack when your phone suddenly buzzed while you were testing the cameras.
The heavy device nearly slipped straight out of your hands as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen.
Your pulse instantly skyrocketed.
Jungkook: hey, i left all the equipment on the table in your hotel room because i had to leave early for rehearsal. camera batteries are charging already, memory cards are inside the small black case, and i think i accidentally tangled all the wires together so… good luck with that honestly ㅎㅎ
there’s also a pass hanging on the chair for backstage access. don’t lose it or my manager’s gonna kill me lol
take your time checking everything first before we head out tomorrow. and if anything’s confusing just call me :))
You stared at the message for a moment longer than necessary, a smile unconsciously pulling at your lips.
His personality somehow translated perfectly even through text messages alone—easygoing, playful, ridiculously approachable despite being one of the biggest celebrities in the world.
It reminded you exactly why he used to be your ultimate bias years ago. There was something naturally charming about him. Something warm.
You quickly typed a reply before you could overthink it too much.
You: yes! i am checking them out hehe.. the batteries are currently charging, the cards are safe, and i’m currently fighting for my life trying to untangle these wires hahaha
good luck with rehearsal!! see you tomorrow!
The second you pressed send, immediate regret flooded your body. You stared at your message in horror.
Why did I sound like that?
Your cheeks burned violently as you reread the multiple “hehe’s” and unnecessary laughter typed into the conversation like a teenager texting her crush for the first time.
You physically covered your face with your hands.
“Oh my God,” you groaned into your palms. It wasn’t like you were trying to flirt.
Or maybe… just a little bit.
Which honestly made the situation infinitely worse.
You used to be an incredibly dedicated ARMY once upon a time, and frankly, this entire situation was making your heart malfunction.
Working for Jungkook.
Texting Jungkook.
Meeting Jungkook.
It all felt unreal in the most dangerous way possible.
But you forced yourself to set the fangirl part aside before it completely consumed you. You needed to stay professional. Calm. Composed.
Otherwise, you were genuinely convinced you’d suffer a stroke before filming a single decent piece of content for him.
So instead of spiraling, you spent the entire night practicing.
Testing the cameras.
Learning the settings.
Adjusting lighting.
Checking the microphones repeatedly to make sure the audio sounded clean.
You edited random sample clips until your eyes burned from exhaustion, determined to familiarize yourself with the equipment enough to at least fake confidence tomorrow.
And somehow, by pure fear-driven determination alone, morning arrived faster than expected.
You woke up early to practice filming one last time before leaving, moving around the hotel room with nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. You were oddly dedicated now—almost desperate—to prove that hiring you wasn’t a mistake.
After showering, you dressed carefully in clothes that screamed “professional videographer” despite the fact that you absolutely were not one.
A black long-sleeved polo, dark slacks and black shoes. You even tied your hair back neatly, staring at yourself in the mirror afterward like you were about to infiltrate the FBI instead of filming golf content.
A knock sounded at your hotel door.
“Good day, Ms. Y/N. Are you ready?”
You immediately straightened up before opening it, greeted by one of the bodyguards Jungkook assigned to escort you. His black shades reflected your visibly nervous expression back at you.
“Yes,” you answered quickly, trying to sound more confident than you felt.
Before leaving, you double-checked everything one last time—the batteries, memory cards, laptop, chargers—making sure nothing important was missing before following the bodyguard downstairs.
Outside, a sleek black car waited for you.
Your heartbeat quickened the moment you stepped inside.
You were scheduled to arrive an hour earlier than Jungkook so you could prepare the equipment and set everything up properly before filming started. Which meant you had an entire hour alone to panic in peace.
The ride itself was painfully quiet. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the car while city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Your hands rested stiffly over your bag, fingers nervously tapping against the expensive camera inside while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.
You swallowed hard. “I can do this,” you whispered quietly to yourself.
Though honestly, you sounded unconvinced. The moment the golf course entrance came into view, your stomach twisted so violently you almost gagged.
Oh God. This was actually happening.
The bodyguard escorted you inside shortly after, guiding you toward the smaller private golf area before leaving you alone to prepare your setup.
The silence that followed felt enormous.
You slowly placed the equipment down, inhaling deeply as the morning breeze brushed against your face. The golf course stretched beautifully beneath the early sunlight, calm and expensive and intimidating all at once.
And somewhere in the middle of unpacking tripods with trembling hands, one horrifying realization settled heavily into your chest.
Soon, Jungkook was going to arrive.
You looked around quietly, taking in the golf course while trying to calm the violent beating of your heart.
The place felt tucked away from the rest of the world somehow—small, peaceful, almost unreal in its stillness. Unlike the massive championship courses you usually saw online, this one felt more intimate. The holes were laid out closer together across smooth fairways trimmed so perfectly they looked like green velvet beneath the morning sun.
Small sand bunkers curved around the landscape, soft hills rolling gently beneath clean white flags planted in the distance.
No screaming crowds. No cameras flashing endlessly. Just the distant rustling of trees, the muted hum of golf carts somewhere farther away, and every now and then, the satisfying thunk of a golf club striking a ball cleanly through the air.
Though, it would’ve been relaxing if you weren’t moments away from throwing up from anxiety.
Your hands were already sweaty as you unpacked the equipment carefully, trying not to look like you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. You adjusted the camera repeatedly, searching for decent angles while silently thanking every higher power possible that there weren’t many people around.
Only a few locals occupied the course, minding their own business.
Good.
Less witnesses for your downfall.
You became so focused on testing camera movements and practicing steady shots that you completely failed to notice someone approaching behind you.
It wasn’t until you angled the camera upward during practice that your soul nearly exited your body.
Jungkook stood directly in frame, smiling right into the lens. Your heart stopped.
“Hi,” he greeted warmly, amusement flickering across his face as he glanced at the camera in your hands. “Looks like you’re having fun already.”
A black sports bag rested beside your equipment now, meaning he must’ve walked over while you were too busy pretending to be a professional filmmaker to notice.
Your eyes widened instantly. “Oh my God—”
You almost tripped over your own feet while hurriedly lowering the camera, panic rushing through your body all at once.
“I was just, um—checking the angles,” you explained nervously, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward. “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”
You quickly wiped your damp palms against your slacks before offering your hand to him politely.
Up close, he somehow looked even more unreal. Tall, broad-shouldered, with beautiful tattoos curling around his arm, silver piercings catching the sunlight softly whenever he smiled.
And unfortunately for your sanity, he was even more handsome in person. Ridiculously so. The kind of handsome that made it difficult to think properly when he looked at you for too long.
He chuckled softly before taking your hand in his. His grip was warm.
Your brain short-circuited immediately.
Dressed in a fitted white polo shirt and black Nike shorts, a black cap resting low over his dark hair in a way that somehow made him look both ridiculously expensive and effortlessly casual at the same time.
The shirt did absolutely nothing to hide how built he was.
You could see the outline of his muscles beneath the fabric every time he moved, his shoulders broad enough to almost completely block the sunlight from where you stood.
“Hello,” he said warmly, shaking your hand once. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you too.” Your cheeks instantly burned.
Seeing him through a screen was one thing. Seeing him in person felt entirely different.
He was so much more charismatic up close it almost irritated you. His bunny teeth peeked out whenever he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners while he spoke in that easy, friendly tone that made it impossible not to relax around him.
His entire aura felt bright somehow. Light. Dangerously charming.
You were absolutely screwed.
“I’ll leave the filming techniques up to you,” he continued casually, walking over toward the cooler nearby. “Feel free to film me however you want. No pressure.”
No pressure.
As if your nervous system wasn’t already collapsing in on itself.
He grabbed a cold bottle of water before offering another one toward you naturally, like this entire situation wasn’t surreal at all.
“Thank you,” you answered quickly, taking the bottle before immediately setting it aside again. “Uh—I’ll start filming now!”
You lifted the camera again with almost aggressive determination, eager to gather as much footage as possible. More clips meant more editing options later. More editing options meant a smaller chance of exposing yourself as a complete fraud.
Jungkook raised an amused brow at your sudden seriousness, his gaze briefly traveled over your outfit before returning to your face.
“You sure?” he asked lightly. “You don’t wanna eat first? I still have to stretch and stuff anyway.”
You shook your head immediately. “Nope.”
Your grip tightened around the camera slightly. “I wanna include behind-the-scenes snippets too, so…” you explained, trying your best to sound professional despite your racing heart. “This would actually be good footage.”
The determination in your voice made Jungkook smile again. And for some reason, that tiny look of approval made your stomach flip harder than it should have.
Jungkook chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said easily. “Just tell me if you need specific details or angles.”
Then he walked toward the side of the golf course to begin stretching.
You immediately followed after him with the camera clutched in your hands exactly the way you practiced all night, quickly pressing record before your nerves could stop you.
At first, things seemed to be going surprisingly well. You filmed everything.
His warm-ups were slow, deliberate—like he was already in control of everything around him.
The way he adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. The subtle flex of his arms as he set up his iron, muscles shifting beneath fabric like something effortless and practiced. The clean, confident swing of the club cutting through air before striking the ball with a sharp, satisfying sound. The soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes as he shifted his stance, grounding himself between each shot.
Then the stillness between it all.
Him sitting down beneath the shade, momentarily retreating from the sun. Him lifting a bottle of water to his lips, throat moving as he drank, the back of his hand brushing sweat away from his neck without much thought.
You practically documented his entire existence.
At one point, you even almost followed him toward the restroom before your brain caught up with your body at the last second.
You genuinely thought you were doing an amazing job.
From your perspective, more footage meant more options later during editing. You didn’t want to miss a single moment that could potentially look cinematic or useful.
But from Jungkook’s perspective… It was a little concerning.
At first, he simply watched quietly. He noticed the small mistakes immediately—the way you held the camera too stiffly sometimes, the awkward adjustments of the lens, the shaky transitions between movements.
Still, he tried convincing himself that maybe you were just getting comfortable with the equipment. Maybe you simply needed time.
But as the day continued, realization slowly settled in. Especially when he caught you aggressively zooming into completely unnecessary details before quickly rotating the lens too fast, creating footage that would probably look dizzying when played back.
Beginner.
The word settled into his thoughts almost instantly. You followed him everywhere with unwavering focus, constantly checking the framing, adjusting settings, filming from different angles even when your hands visibly started struggling beneath the camera’s weight.
By the time he returned from the restroom later that afternoon, he paused slightly at the sight of you near the equipment table.
You were rotating your shoulders carefully with a tired grimace, trying to ease the soreness from carrying the camera all day. Sweat clung lightly against your forehead beneath the heat of the sun, and your fingers looked faintly red from gripping the equipment for hours.
Still, the moment you noticed him approaching again, you instinctively reached for the camera.
“I think you have enough footage for today,” Jungkook said quietly before you could pick it up again.
His voice carried something firmer now. Your hands froze mid-motion.
You blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the camera. “But you’re not done yet.”
He was still in the middle of playing. There were still shots left, more footage you could take, more angles you could practice.
But instead of continuing, Jungkook simply placed the iron back onto the rack with a quiet sigh.
Something about his body language had changed. Subtle, but noticeable.
The playful brightness from earlier dimmed slightly, exhaustion settling into the slope of his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck.
And suddenly, anxiety crept beneath your skin.
Was he disappointed?
The answer was yes. Not angry—he wasn’t angry. But disappointed enough to realize the truth little by little throughout the day.
You don’t have any clue on what you were doing.
The way you handled the camera, the inconsistent framing, the random zoom-ins, the awkward adjustments every few seconds—it was painfully obvious that you were inexperienced.
And for a brief moment, ugly thoughts crossed his mind despite himself.
He trusted you.
Even without polished sample reels or impressive portfolios, he still chose to trust you. Your cover letter had been painfully sincere, especially the part about wanting independence. Wanting to do things on your own so you wouldn’t burden your parents. Wanting to make them proud. Wanting to stand on your own feet.
That part stayed with him longer than it should have.
A lot of people sent him impressive applications. High-quality edits. Cinematic videos. Professional portfolios crafted carefully to catch his attention. Thousands of direct messages flooded his account constantly, most of them blending together into meaningless noise after a while.
But yours stood out somehow.
Maybe it was the formal profile picture that made him laugh- looked strangely earnest among the endless stream of unserious messages. Maybe it was the desperation hidden between your carefully written sentences. Or maybe it was simply because your letter resonated with him more than he expected it to.
He understood that kind of desperation.
That overwhelming need to prove yourself to the world.
He had been independent from a young age too, forced to grow up far earlier than most people ever had to. He knew what it felt like to carry pressure so heavy it started shaping the person you became.
But still—
Maybe you lied just to get close to him.
Maybe you wanted the money.
Maybe you were just another person trying to take advantage of him somehow.
God knew he had already met far too many people like that.
But every time those thoughts surfaced, they disappeared almost instantly the second he looked at you again.
Because you were trying so hard. Too hard, honestly.
The determination written across your face all day felt painfully genuine, from the way you followed him around with aching arms to the sweat gathering near your forehead while you forced yourself to keep filming despite your obvious exhaustion.
You looked less like a manipulative opportunist and more like someone desperately trying not to fail.
Still, disappointment lingered quietly beneath his ribs. A dull ache he couldn’t quite shake away no matter how sincere you looked trying to impress him.
And instead of sending you home immediately, another thought slowly crept into his mind.
Something dangerous.
Something mean.
Something dirty enough to make his pulse slow.
He wanted to punish you for it.
Not enough to truly hurt you—never that—but enough to make you understand exactly what happened when you lied to him. Enough to leave you breathless beneath the weight of his attention, overwhelmed by the consequences of trying to fool him so boldly.
Jungkook had always been competitive for a reason.
He hated losing, hated being made a fool of.
And now that you had managed to slip past his guard so easily, there was no way he was letting you walk away untouched by it.
Oh, he was going to have so much fun with you.
“I wanna film something,” he finally said instead, voice quieter now. More serious.
Your breath caught slightly at the sudden change in tone. The warmth from earlier had faded into something calmer. Harder to read.
“Oh,” you answered softly, momentarily caught off guard. “Okay! What kind of content?”
You quickly stood up and began fixing the equipment into your bags, noticing him grab his car keys from beside his sports bag.
“You’ll see,” he said simply, before turning toward the exit.
Your own brows furrowed in confusion. The schedule he sent clearly stated golf content for today. Nothing else.
Still, you followed him quietly anyway. When he told you to ride with him instead of the escort vehicle, your confusion deepened even more, though you didn’t question it aloud. Maybe he wanted driving footage or some cinematic clips for the vlog.
That had to be it.
Your heart thumped nervously as you climbed into his car beside him, immediately noticing how sleek and absurdly expensive the interior looked. The soft scent of fresh mint lingered in the air, clean and comforting somehow.
The realization that you were sitting inside Jungkook’s car with Jungkook himself nearly made your soul leave your body.
Your hands instinctively reached toward the camera bag.
“No,” Jungkook chuckled softly the moment he noticed. “You’re not gonna film here, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl.
Your entire brain stopped functioning. Heat rushed violently into your cheeks as you slowly pulled your hands away from the bag.
“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Okay…”
You bit your lip afterward, turning slightly toward the window to hide your expression while curiosity twisted tighter inside your chest.
Where exactly was he taking you?
The moment you saw the familiar hotel building come into view through the windshield, confusion settled deeper into your chest.
You followed Jungkook quietly through the lobby, nerves buzzing beneath your skin with every step.
He had gone strangely quiet after golf. Still calm, still composed—but not as bright as before. The easy smiles disappeared, replaced by something heavier lingering beneath his expression, and it made your stomach tighten painfully.
“Uhm…” you started carefully while standing beside him inside the elevator. “Are you gonna get a few more cameras or something?”
The elevator doors slid shut. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, his doe eyes half-lidded in a way that made your throat suddenly feel dry.
“Take a guess.”
Your heartbeat stumbled. Something about his tone made nervousness crawl violently through your body. And when the elevator finally opened onto your floor, Jungkook grabbed your wrist without warning.
You gasped softly, he dragged you out impatiently, long strides carrying the two of you quickly down the hallway toward your hotel room. His grip wasn’t painful, but firm enough to make your pulse race uncontrollably beneath your skin.
By the time you stopped in front of your door, your mind was already spiraling. Jungkook looked down at you expectantly, his pupils dilated, still holding your wrist while waiting for you to unlock the room.
Did he figure it out? The thought struck so hard your chest physically tightened.
Your fingers trembled slightly while pulling out the keycard. Guilt flooded your system all at once, thick and suffocating.
You were scared.
Scared he’d yell at you. Scared he’d confiscate the equipment. Scared he’d have you booked on the next flight home before you even had a chance to explain yourself.
Completely unaware of the way his dark, playful mind worked. Completely unaware of how badly he wanted to punish you.
“Jungkook, I—”
But the words died immediately when he walked past you instead.
He took the camera bag from your hands and moved straight toward the table, pulling out the camera you used earlier before checking the rest of the equipment you left behind.
You blinked in confusion. Huh?
Jungkook grabbed another camera calmly before setting up one of the tripods with practiced ease. The way his fingers moved across the equipment was fast and precise, adjusting settings effortlessly while rotating the camera into position like second nature. His shoulders flexed beneath the white polo each time he lifted the tripod, veins bulging faintly along his tattooed forearms while he fixed the lighting behind it.
Your lips parted slightly without meaning to. He looked ridiculously good doing something as simple as setting up cameras.
“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, confused.
Jungkook glanced back at you over his shoulder while tightening something near the tripod head.
“Sit on the bed for me.”
Your stomach flipped violently. “H-Huh? I mean okay,” you answered quietly, swallowing hard before slowly moving toward the bed.
You sat carefully near the edge while watching him continue adjusting the setup.
With one hand alone, Jungkook lifted the heavy tripod effortlessly and positioned it directly in front of the bed, angling the camera downward toward where you sat.
The veins along his arms flexed again beneath the strain.
Your throat went completely dry. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before.
Hotter too.
You watched silently as he grabbed another tripod, this time placing it to the right side of the bed. Both cameras pointed directly at you now. And for some reason, the sight made your heartbeat pound harder than ever before.
He looked through the camera lens carefully, head tilting slightly as he adjusted the angle. “Lay down on the bed.”
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What—”
“Lay down.” he commanded sharply.
This time, his tone came out firmer. Serious. Leaving absolutely no room for argument.
And somehow, the way he looked at you through the camera lens sent a sharp shiver crawling down your spine.
To your own horror, excitement slowly started mixing with the fear curling inside your stomach.
You almost wanted to slap yourself for it.
You swallowed hard before slowly slipping your shoes off, awkwardly climbing farther onto the bed until your back rested against the headboard.
Every movement suddenly felt painfully self-aware beneath the cameras pointed directly at you.
Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully while studying the frame through the viewfinder, eventually stepping forward again to move the tripod closer.
Before you could shift yourself lower against the mattress, he suddenly walked toward you instead. Your breath hitched the second he crouched down in front of you holding the clip-on microphone.
He leaned in close enough for you to catch the faint scent of mint lingering on him.
“You forgot these earlier,” he said lightly, though there was something mocking beneath the softness of his voice now.
“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Uhm… I was in a rush, so…” Your cheeks burned instantly from embarrassment.
Of course you forgot the microphones!
Jungkook raised a brow slowly. “You were in a rush?” he repeated with a quiet chuckle before standing back up again.
Then he walked toward the table and grabbed the smaller digital camcorder, casually aiming it toward you.
The amount of cameras pointed at you now made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Instinctively, you tried sitting up straighter, but Jungkook stopped you immediately.
“Stay still,” he said calmly. “I wanna test the cameras.”
“Test the cameras?”
“I think you need a little demo, baby.” Your heartbeat stopped. “You weren’t doing a very good job earlier.” The teasing mockery in his tone hit you like a truck.
And suddenly everything crashed down at once. Your eyes widened in horror.
Fuck.
He knew.
Of course he knew!
Heat rushed violently into your face and neck, humiliation crawling across your entire body so intensely it almost hurt. Your chest tightened painfully while tears burned behind your eyes before you could stop them.
You looked away instinctively, shame flooding every inch of you.
God, this was so embarrassing.
“J-Jungkook, please,” you stammered quickly, panic slipping into your voice. “I’m not trying to scam you or anything, it’s just that—”
He stepped closer until his knees brushed against the edge of the bed.
And somehow, that almost satisfied look on his face made your stomach twist even more.
You looked so shy. So cornered. Like a poor little thing unknowingly walking straight into his hands.
His gaze lingered on you with dangerous amusement, as though you had already become his favorite test subject for the cameras.
Dark lazy eyes dragged slowly across your body, taking their time, shamelessly roaming over every inch of you while his imagination sparked vividly to life. You could almost see the thoughts forming behind his eyes—every filthy thing he wanted to do to you, every position he wanted to bend you into, every sound he wanted to force out of your mouth while the cameras kept recording.
And somehow, what excited him even more was the thought of filming it all. Editing it afterward. Watching you fall apart for him frame by frame.
“Shh,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay.”
Your watery eyes lifted toward him immediately. “I’ll teach you how to film, hmm?” he said mockingly.
“W-What?” Your lips parted in disbelief.
Jungkook tilted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression.
“Gonna show you the right angles, baby,” he cooed. “What do you think?” He smiled without humor.
The contrast made you shiver. “B-But…”
“Will you cooperate with me?” he asked, voice smooth and almost condescending, like he was speaking to a child. His fingers tapped lightly against one of the cameras beside him. “We wouldn’t want these cameras to go to waste, would we?”
Your throat tightened. Part of you wanted to disappear completely. To book the next flight home, apologize profusely, and somehow repay every expense he wasted on you.
But another part of you—the younger version buried deep inside your chest, the girl who once stayed up all night watching his videos and smiling at her screen—couldn’t let go of this moment.
Because despite everything, Jungkook still hadn’t thrown you out.
He wasn’t yelling at you.
He was giving you another chance.
And maybe that meant you still had an opportunity to prove yourself.
Thousands of people probably wanted your position right now. Yet somehow, he was still here. Patient enough to teach you himself.
Completely unaware of how dangerous that patience actually was.
Because the lessons Jungkook had in mind were nothing like the ones you were expecting.
So slowly, you nodded.
Hope flickered weakly beneath your embarrassment while your thoughts tangled themselves around one desperate need: to impress him somehow.
“Okay,” you whispered nervously. “I—I learn fast when someone’s teaching me and…”
Jungkook raised a thick brow at you. “Pretty girl’s a fast learner, huh?”
Your cheeks immediately reddened again. You nodded shyly despite the obvious teasing in his tone, unconsciously pouting a little from embarrassment.
His eyes went down to your lips, eyes darkening. “Can you count the cameras for me?” he asked a bit impatiently.
You glanced around quickly toward the setup.
The two cameras mounted on tripods.
The camcorder in his hand.
“There’s three,” you answered softly.
Jungkook chuckled under his breath. “Good job, baby.” he slowly lifted the camcorder higher, zooming the lens closer toward your face.
“Now look here.”
You shyly looked into the camera lens, your cheeks dusted with pink beneath the warm lights.
The way Jungkook stared at you through the camcorder made you shrink into yourself slightly, suddenly aware of every little movement you made on the bed.
He tilted his head slowly. “So pretty.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Heat crawled up your neck as you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress, fingers curling slightly into the sheets. The entire situation suddenly felt strangely intimate, and for a second your thoughts drifted somewhere dangerous before you quickly forced yourself to focus again.
This is just a demo.
He’s teaching you.
Nothing else.
“Open the first few buttons of your top,” he said, voice quieter now as he continued looking at you through the camcorder.
Your eyes widened instantly.
Did I hear that right?
“W-What?” you nearly choked out, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast despite how badly this entire situation could end for you.
And somehow, against all logic, excitement started curling through your stomach.
“Need you to cooperate, baby,” he answered smoothly. “Come on, do a nice show for me.”
The teasing edge in his tone made your stomach twist nervously.
You hesitated for a moment before slowly bringing your shaky fingers toward your top, feeling painfully aware of the cameras pointed at you from different angles.
Jungkook watched carefully through the lens, adjusting the focus ring slightly while observing the framing.
“That’s it.” he encouraged.
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, fingers trembling as you slowly undid the first few buttons of your blouse. Heat crawled up the back of your neck, burning the tips of your ears as the reality of the situation settled deeper beneath your skin.
He’s filming a sex tape.
You were so fucking stupid because instead of panicking properly, instead of running or completely losing your mind, you were following him blindly. Worse—you were getting excited.
Fuck, you should’ve been crashing out right now.
But the way he looked at you— God.
It felt like he wanted to devour you whole. His dark eyes dragged over every inch of exposed skin with quiet hunger, liquid heat pulsed embarrassingly between the gap of your thighs before you could stop it.
“Open your eyes baby, stare at the camera.” he said firmly, an obvious edge underneath it.
You slowly opened your eyes. Your cheeks were already burning, breath uneven as you finished unbuttoning the last one, revealing just enough of your chest to make your thoughts scatter. The camera lens felt heavier now, more invasive, like it was watching you breathe, waiting for you to make the wrong move.
“Hmm…touch your breasts baby, give it a nice squeeze for me.” he whispered, still holding the camcorder, directing it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what every angle captured.
Completely under his control, you obeyed, your hands moving hesitantly at first before you held yourself through the fabric, giving a light squeeze that made your breath hitch. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stay steady, trying to keep your eyes locked on the camera like he told you, even as your vision softened at the edges and your body betrayed your focus.
The room felt smaller now. Heavier.
You were getting so wet.
Jungkook let out a low groan, eyes still fixed through the lens.
“Remove your top, wanna see your pretty nipples.”
Your ears burned red at the filthy undertone. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled your top off, revealing the white lace bra beneath. The delicate fabric hugged the soft swell of your breasts perfectly, and the moment Jungkook’s eyes settled on them through the camera lens, another wave of heat rushed through your body.
You slowly tugged at the first strap, then the second, freeing your breasts as your nipples hardened, flushed and sensitive against the cool air.
“That’s it,” he instructed, voice steady. “Roll those pretty nipples for me.”
You obeyed, pinching them gently before rolling them between your fingers. Your lips parted at the rush of sensation that followed, breath catching as your panties got more stickier with your arousal.
When your gaze dropped, you noticed the strain in his black shorts—the obvious tent pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that despite his composed, professional expression as he filmed you, he wasn’t unaffected.
He groaned, zooming in on how you were rolling and pinching your nipples, his cock throbbing at the sight, precum leaking from its mushroom tip.
“Bring your hand to your mouth,” he ordered, directing the camera at your face. “Now, spit on it.”
You whimpered. Like a good girl, you gathered your saliva and spat thickly onto your palms, showing it to him after.
He bit his lower lip, his cock getting so hard from your submissiveness. “Good girl, now rub it on your nipples—make it nice and wet for me,” he rasped.
You rubbed the spit on your breast, the warm, sticky fluid on your nipples feeling so raw and dirty, spreading the saliva messily as he watched you through the lens with hooded eyes.
You were getting so horny, the dirty act turning you on so much that you could feel your panties sticking to your core.
“Look at you,” he chuckled, slowly reaching toward you. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”
You looked so pretty—your neatly done hair now slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from all the things he’d been instructing you to do, pebbled nipples glistening under the camera lights. Your legs trembled slightly, aching to be touched, your lips parting every now and then as your breath turned uneven, eyes hazy and unfocused.
The sight made Jungkook’s cock throb painfully hard.
His pretty little doll.
He handed you the camcorder. “Hold this, baby. Show them who’s making you this wet.”
With shaky hands and glossy eyes, you took the camera and tried to point it toward him, your eyes rolling back when he removed his white polo shirt and black shorts, leaving him in his gray Calvin Klein boxers.
You whimpered as you could see the outline of his huge cock, precum leaking at the tip, wetting the center of the cloth.
“Your angle is wrong,” he raised a brow, noticing how your shaky hands were failing a bit at holding the camera properly.
You panicked. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out, trying to straighten it, ignoring the painful pulses between your legs—your body begging to be touched.
He chuckled, leaning over you. “It’s okay, baby. That’s why we have another camera.”
His hands came up to your cheeks, gently holding and angling your face to the right so you could look toward the second camera set up by the side of the bed. “I bet you’d look so good getting fucked from that angle,” he whispered.
His grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, squishing them just enough as the camera captured everything—the way your eyes fluttered, the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way your legs shifted restlessly, searching for any kind of friction.
You gasped loudly when his free hand went down to cup your pussy through your pants, your eyes rolling back as he felt the wetness through the fabric.
“Fuck, let me see how wet you are, yeah?”
With one hand, he unzipped your pants, pulling them down in one forceful motion while his other hand remained on your cheeks, keeping your gaze fixed on the camera. Your other hand trembled as it tried to capture what he was doing below.
“Capture this, baby,” he breathed, guiding your hand holding the camcorder to angle it downward, towards your wet pussy.
You almost dropped the camera when he suddenly slapped your cunt, your panties nearly see-through from how wet they were with your arousal.
“Jungkook~” you whimpered.
He sat up and held both of your legs, spreading them wider until your ankles were almost on either side of the bed.
“You’re so wet, I can see your cute little slit through your panties baby.” He chuckled, leaning down and hollowing his cheeks to spit right above your clothed clit, making it even messier.
You whimpered, your toes curling at the sensation, gripping the camcorder tightly as you felt him crouch down, spreading his spit over your panties. His warm tongue then licked along your pussy through the fabric, slotting between your folds, the wet material pressing inside your slit.
“Make sure the camera can see how good I’m gonna eat this pussy.” He whispered while looking at you, flipping your panties to the side and groaning when he saw how wet and pink you were, his jaw slackening as he took almost your whole pussy into his warm mouth.
It was so wet and messy, and you could see him through the mini screen of the camcorder, maintaining direct eye contact with the lens while eating you out, making sure to pull back your hood so the camera could capture how his lips would wrapped around your swollen clit.
He suctioned around it, spreading more spit, sucking as if his life depended on it, then moved down to gather your juices before sliding his hot tongue inside you, coaxing more from you. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, showing you how he drank every bit of your wetness.
“That feels so g-good.” You moaned, trying to zoom in on how his tongue played with your folds.
He hummed, the vibrations making you twitch in pleasure.
“Yeah? This feels good?” he asked, sucking harshly on your clit as your eyes rolled back, your release building up fast. Your pussy throbbed, your clit growing more sensitive with every passing second.
“I’m gonna-’’
You moaned loudly when he buried his face deeper, never letting go of your throbbing clit, his head moving from side to side as he groaned low against you. When he finally let go of your clit, you gasped as he gathered a thick amount of saliva, hollowing his cheeks to spit harshly down on you, then leaning back in with his tongue out to spread it in slow, kitten-like licks.
When he looked up again at the lens, you exploded, your orgasm so intense you could feel your pussy pulsating so hard you almost saw stars.
‘’Stop, please!” You whined, overstimulated as he kept licking your cunt, your legs shaking from the oversensitivity.
His chin and nose were soaked, his lips slightly red and pouty, his dark locks messy, and his pupils dilated. You gasped when he suddenly removed his boxers; his cock was hard and pretty, curving slightly upward, decorated with thick veins and a red, swollen mushroom tip.
Jungkook took the camera and angled it towards you, wide glossy eyes looking up at him weakly.
“Say… thank you for making me cum, Jungkook.” He breathed, his other hand gripping his cock as he spread the precum along his shaft.
“Thank you for m-making me cum, Jungkook.” You croaked, your legs still trembling from your intense orgasm.
He smiled proudly. “My smart girl, very good at following instructions,” he praised, placing the camcorder down beside you and angling it so it could capture how his mouth leaned down to suck your nipples, while his free hand squeezed and rolled the other bud between his fingers.
“Jungkook—” you moaned as his tongue twirled and sucked around your breast, just like he had done to your clit—messy and pouty with saliva.
He bit your nipple playfully, earning a soft whimper from you, his tattooed hand reaching down to cup your swollen pussy.
You gasped when he inserted his middle finger, your walls tightening around the intrusion.
“You’re so tight and warm.” He murmured against your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before moving to suck on the other one.
You whimpered, your pussy growing wetter from the way he sucked and played with your nipples, the pad of his middle finger brushing against your spongy spot, making you writhe in pleasure.
“Please- too much.” You moaned, his middle finger going so deep that his knuckles were hitting your ass, his finger curling in a “come here” motion inside you, rubbing your spot deliciously as your tight hole produced more juices, the feeling of your previous release being pushed inside you making you tremble.
He let go of your nipple and leaned in immediately, pouty lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, messy and demanding, tangling with yours as the kiss deepened and turned overwhelming.
At the same time, his other hand moved up to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around the column of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as he held you in place.
Your lips parted in response, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue deeper, exploring every corner of your mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing your whines and protests.
His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, impossibly close to your wet pussy, grinding lightly as he shifted. You could feel his precum, warm and slick, and the firm pressure of his mushroom tip against your skin made you bite back a shaky breath, a mix of pleasure and nerves twisting together inside you.
Your walls tightened around his finger, making it almost impossible for him to move it from how tightly your pussy gripped him.
He groaned, biting your lip and nudging your thighs wider with his legs, inserting another finger and making you gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. He swallowed your moans, almost bruising your tongue from the way he was kissing you, the air in your lungs growing limited every time he squeezed your throat.
“Shh, behave for the camera.” he whispered, his thumb caressing your throat while his middle and ring fingers rubbed your spongy spot in slow circles.
Tears fell from your eyes, the overstimulation and edging making you cry from pain. You had already come, but you wanted to cum again so badly, your pussy aching and throbbing for another release, his fingers brushing your g-spot in a teasing, ticklish way, making you shake and move your legs in protest.
“Let me cum again, please, please…” you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
He gripped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp for air. “Aww, you wanna come again?” he cooed.
You nodded desperately, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, please.”
He chuckled at you. “So polite.” he said, lazily grabbing the camcorder from the side and angling it down towards your spent pussy. “Spread wide, baby.”
You immediately held your ankles, making yourself completely open for him, desperate for release, your body aching from denied pleasure.
He angled the camera at your twitching hole, filming how your wetness dripped down the sheets. He held his hard cock, spitting down onto his shaft and pumping it a few times before angling himself towards your wet cunt.
You gasped loudly when his blunt head entered your hole, biting your lip harshly at the foreign intrusion, the stretch nearly overwhelming you from his swollen mushroom tip alone.
“So big…” you whimpered, holding your ankles tightly as a new wave of tears gathered in your eyes.
Your breath hitched, trembling as you tried to adjust, the sensation stealing every coherent thought from your mind.
Jungkook cursed under his breath, zooming in on your wet cunt to capture how your walls were sucking him in.
“Your pussy looks so good on camera baby, so tight and pretty.” He grunted, pushing halfway in and earning a loud moan from you.
His bangs stuck to his forehead, his lip ring catching the light as he bit down on his lower lip. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, veins tracing along his neck, flushed and taut with effort. Even like this, he held the camera with unnerving steadiness, like nothing about the moment could shake his focus.
So steady and professional at producing sex tapes.
When he bottomed out, you almost fainted, the stretch overwhelming—painful yet intoxicating—as he pressed fully against you. His balls settled deep, his pelvis flush with yours, the soft trim of hair brushing your clit each time he rolled his hips.
He groaned harshly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his jaw clenching as your walls enveloped him.
“Relax, baby—you’re gripping me,” he groaned weakly, this time angling the camera toward your face.
You whimpered, trying to cover your face with your small hands, but he caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His sudden hard thrusts made your body bounce slightly with every movement, leaving you breathless.
“Don’t be shy, baby—show your pretty face to the camera,” he drawled lazily, angling it towards your flushed expression.
“Show them how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, rolling his hips against you. The curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, buried so deep that he barely pulled out at all—only circling his hips, grinding in a way that made it feel like he wanted to push even further. The sensation drew a sharp arch through your back.
His gaze stayed locked on you through the screen, lips parted, breath uneven—like he was caught between control and losing it. The way your pussy gripped him made his cock throb, his expression darkening with something possessive and unspoken.
“Look at you, whimpering like a pretty little slut.” he said in a condescending tone.
“I-I’m not a slut.” You pouted, your walls tightening around him at his degrading tone.
He raised a brow. “Oh really? You think a lot of people won’t agree once I upload this?”
Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your flushed face as his thrusts turned harsher and sloppier, the rhythm giving away how close he was getting. You were almost impressed that he was still managing to keep the camera steady.
“N-No, you are not gonna do that,” you panicked, your eyes wide and glossy, your small hands trying to push the camera away.
He grunted, his cock throbbing as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He shifted just enough to avoid the camera when you reached for it, tightening his grip around both your wrists so you couldn’t move.
“You like that, huh? Come on, pretty—let me film you properly.” He snapped his hips harder, angling the lens toward you while your bodies met in sharp, rhythmic collisions.
The friction made your breath hitch, your clit brushing against his pubic hair in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. His grip tightened around the camcorder, breathing uneven as he watched you come apart through the screen, completely drunk on the sounds you were making for him.
“Moan louder.” he commanded.
You moaned loudly, your chest rising and falling as his harsh movements made your body react against him. His eyes rolled back slightly from the way you kept pulsating around him, every drag sending him deeper into overstimulation.
He bit his lip. “My dirty girl, getting fucked on film.” he rasped.
Then, abruptly, he let go of the camcorder and set it aside.
A soft sound escaped him as he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Before you could fully register it, he was already moving you—pulling your body forward and repositioning you in front of him.
He settled behind you, guiding you into place so that you were now facing the cameras on the tripod, your body fully on display while his broad chest and hard cock pressed close from behind.
“You see those two cameras baby?’’ he whispered behind your ear, spreading your legs wide.
“Yes.” you replied weakly.
You gasped loudly when he entered you from behind, your body settling against his lap as his thighs kept your legs spread wide, positioning you so the camera could clearly capture the way he entered you.
“Smile for them baby, need some footage from this angle.’’ He cooed softly, thrusting his hips upward while his other arm circled around your waist to keep you steady.
You moaned, trembling so badly when you saw how the lights caught both of your bodies—the glittering sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup, and his tattooed colored arms all captured in high definition under the harsh glow.
"My pretty pretty girl, should I post this? show them how I fuck?" he murmured against your skin before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his tongue brushing lightly over the dampness left behind by your earlier tears.
The tenderness of it contrasted so badly with the hunger in his voice that it made your breath hitch. His hand cradled your face carefully, thumb stroking beneath your eye as though he was soothing you and provoking you at the same time, and the way he looked at you through half-lidded eyes made heat rush straight to your chest.
He suddenly grabbed the clip-on mic from your necklace, your eyes widening as you realized he was angling it downward—towards where his cock met your pussy.
“Need to test the mic baby, let the viewers hear how much of a nasty slut you are.”
The mic was so close that every sound was picked up clearly—the wet, obscene squelches echoing as he pushed and pulled inside you, the way he dragged against your tight heat sounding even more intense through the recording. The noise alone felt almost sinful in how loud and wet it was.
“I bet they can hear how tight your pussy is.” he grunted, putting the mic closer to your cunt.
He could feel how slick everything had become, wetting his balls each time he pushed, your arousal makes each movement messier.
“Gonna cum, oh gosh.” You moaned, your body growing hypersensitive as your clit throbbed with the pressure of an approaching orgasm.
He grabbed both of your cheeks when he noticed your head starting to fall back from pleasure, forcing you to look straight at the camera in front of you. “Be a good girl and look at the lens, don’t want my content to be bad quality.’’
His other hand clipped the mic back onto your necklace before sliding down again, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm edged closer and closer.
“Cum for me baby, show them your cute little juices.”
Your legs were shaking when you finally reached your orgasm, your clit throbbing so intensely, your limbs giving out as your body hit its peak. Your swollen bud pulsed uncontrollably in fast, erratic heart beats, your walls clenching around his cock as he was still thrusting inside you.
Your eyes rolled back into your head when you felt your orgasm stretch further from his deep thrusts, his mushroom tip brushing against your g-spot and dragging you straight into another wave. You came again, consecutively, your body twitching as overstimulation took over, your legs instinctively trying to close.
"J-Jungkook I can't anymore."
Jungkook forced your legs to stay open, his index and middle fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for the camera, showing how your clit pulsed beneath the warm lights while his cock remained buried deep inside you.
''Mhm.. spit on your clit baby, make it extra wet before I use you." he whispered.
You squirmed, obediently leaning down as his fingers kept you spread open. With trembling breaths, you gathered saliva on your tongue before letting it drip down onto your clit, both cameras capturing the filthy sight in sharp detail.
A low curse slipped past Jungkook’s lips at the view, his grip tightening instinctively as he watched you, completely consumed by the way you willingly put yourself on display for him.
He quickly flipped your body down to chase his own pleasure, entering you again and sloppily thrusting into your wet used walls, pushing your cum deeper and deeper inside you. You were so weak, your heart still racing as you weakly reached for the camcorder to film him.
When he saw what you were doing, he groaned harshly, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it bordered on bruising as he held you down.
“My smart girl, you learned well huh?” He praised you, thrusting fast and hard, the camcorder shaking in your grip as you tried to capture his deep strokes.
"Your little brain functioning well with my cock deep inside you.'' he muttered darkly, thumb brushing against your cheek as he watched your expression unravel for him.
“A-Am I doing a good job?” you asked softly, biting your lip as you adjusted the camera to capture his face this time.
He let out a low growl in response, movements losing their rhythm slightly as pleasure started pulling him apart at the edges. “Uh-huh,” he breathed heavily. “You can be my personal little porn star. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
A loud moan escaped you at the thought, heat rushing instantly to your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the camcorder, suddenly far too eager to keep filming him.
“Gonna fuck you anytime I want,” he breathed, dilated eyes locked on you through the lens. “Film it however I like.”
With a harsh final thrust, he came inside you, grunting as he pushed through the last of it, staying buried as he finished, his body still tense with the release. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, warm cum spilling and pooling, some of it leaking out and staining the sheets beneath you while he stayed balls deep.
The camcorder slipped from your grip, forgotten as you breathed heavily beneath him. You were completely spent, still sensitive as his hips gave a few slow, instinctive movements, as if trying to push his cum deeper despite his softening cock.
“Jungkook?” you asked weakly, fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft ruffles of his hair.
“Hmm?” he hummed against your neck, lips pressing lazy kisses there, his cock still buried deep inside you. The red recording lights on the cameras kept blinking steadily in the background.
“A-Are you really gonna post this?” you bit your lip, glancing back at the two large cameras perched on the tripod.
Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, teeth grazing your skin in a teasing bite. “Mhm. I still need to edit it though.”
“Jungkook!” you squealed, panicking again.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and sharp with need, still carrying that lingering haze of desire. “Do you even know how to edit?” he asked, eyes squinting in playful doubt.
Your eyes widened. “I can edit,” you insisted quickly. “I learned a few things… I kinda know the basics.” Your voice softened at the end, almost uncertain.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he slowly pulled out, earning a shaky breath from you before he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.
“Hmm. Okay…” he murmured softly, lifting the camcorder slightly between you. “Edit this video for me, then.”
“What, r-really?” you blinked, surprised that he was letting you work for him.
“Uh-huh,” he said casually. “Then we’ll see if I have to keep you or not.”
You pouted instantly at that, but he was already shifting away from you, looking at the camcorder and checking the footage with the ease of someone far too experienced at this.
The screen’s glow reflected faintly against his handsome face as he replayed a few clips, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Even now, completely relaxed, he somehow still looked annoyingly professional.
“Okay…” you mumbled softly, a little disappointment slipping into your voice before you could hide it.
He noticed immediately. Of course he did.
A smirk pulled at his lips as he lifted the camcorder slightly, teasing you with it. “Make sure you include your pretty moans, baby,” he drawled. “Or else we’ll have to retake this again.”
He stood up then, completely unbothered, removing the cameras from their tripods like the decision had already been made long before you realized it.
— 𝜗𝜚⋆ he loves to kiss your wedding ring when you’re asleep.
night time is the best time for you both. it finally gives you a chance to wind down and relax from a busy day. the TV plays quietly in the quiet bedroom, he can’t remember what you both picked to watch tonight, maybe it was something you had chosen a few weeks ago and forgot to watch or maybe it was his pick, he doesn’t care either way. he’s more focused on you.
you’re curled up into his side, head tucked comfortably on his bare chest with your hand placed right beside it, and he is 99% sure you had fallen asleep not that long ago. he had one arm wrapped around you, thumb slowly stroking the skin of your shoulder and traced the apple of your cheek with his other finger, heart swelling when you sigh softly and curl more into him.
your lashes flutter against your cheek each time he drags his finger up and down, your soft snores and warm breath hitting his skin, causing his lips to curl up into a tired yet fond smile. a sudden shimmer of a smirk caught his attention, and he reluctantly turned away from your face and his eyes instantly landed on your hand.
more or so on the glittery diamond on your finger rested.
pride swells up in him, memories of every promise and vow echo in his mind as he gently reaches the hand that was stroking your cheek, out towards your hand and carefully wrapped his fingers around yours, bringing your hand up to his lips. he stares at the wedding ring for a while, smiling to himself once his thumb brushes across it.
he remembers the day he bought it, remembers how long he had it sitting in his jacket pocket on every single date you both went on. he always chickened out, not because he didn’t want to marry you, he was just scared and nervous you would say no. he remembers the night he managed to push through those worries on a random wednesday; you were both on the couch, eating your favourite take out and he couldn’t stop thinking of, despite how much you cried at one of your shows, you still looked effortlessly beautiful and how badly he was in love with you and that was all it took for him to blurt it out.
yes, he proposed to you while you were completely in tears over something on the television, clad in a pair of his sweatpants that were too big and a hoodie that had been washed so many times the colour was fading. despite so many of your friends going on vacation and getting proposed to, this was perfect for you. with the man you loved, eating food you both enjoy. you didn’t need to spend extortionate amounts of money for this moment. if he was there with you, it’s all you needed.
a tear slips down his cheek at the memory of your fork dropping onto the floor and a wide wet smile appears on your face the longer he stares at the wedding ring, but hearing you shout and scream yes over and over again in excitement will truly be one of the happiest memories he has of you.
he brings your hand closer, and then he’s pressing his lips to your fingers, the coldness of the metal melting against his skin, moving between your fingers and ring. “i love you.” he murmurs between kisses, each one a promise, something soft and precious just for you.
your fingers squeeze around his subconsciously and his heart leaps again, eyes leaving your hand and flickering to your face again. you looked more content, a subtle smile on your face despite being deeply asleep. his lips pressed against your wedding ring again, this time longer and his eyes never once left your face. watching your reaction. loving you even in silence.
the arm he still has around you, his thumb still continues those slow strokes, relaxing you without him even fully realising it. he can’t stop the way he litters kisses over your fingers, some on your wrist, he just keeps going because he loves you. you’re his entire world.
after a while, he finally slides his fingers between yours, gripping your hand gently and protectively and it’s only when he slides his other hand down from your shoulder and down your arm slowly that his eyes catch the gold band around his finger.
ring or not, you’re his and he’s yours. everything he has is yours no matter what. he walks the ground you walk on and making you happy and making sure you feel so loved is always at the front of his mind.
intertwined hands, he rests them both back on his chest and turns his head, presses his lips to your forehead and inhales softly. “i love you,” he repeats under his breath, thumb moving back and forth against your knuckles this time. “everything i have is yours, everything i do is for you, for us, forever.”
genre: idol!jungkook, virgin!reader, rough sex, jungkook is lowkey a sex fiend, marathon sex.
You agreed to accompany your friend to a BTS concert that you had no interest in, not knowing you’ll lose your virginity to Jungkook’s fat cock backstage and he’ll ruin your untouched pussy by bending you in many filthy positions all night long.
tags: experienced jungkook, inexperienced reader, jungkook is cocky, dominant, rough and possessive, bratty sensitive virgin reader, jungkook has a HUGE cock, nipple play, titty worshipping, jungkook likes rough messy sex, jungkook has a filthy mouth, breeding kink, pussy slapping, corruption kink, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, jungkook calls you soooo many petnames (both sweet and kinky), he’s gonna make that cock fit in your virgin pussy, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, doggy position, you won't stop leaking cum so jungkook shoves his tie in your wet gaping pussy.
total words: 5.8k
this snippet: 2.5k words
(this snippet shows first scene where jungkook fingers your tight pussy and takes your virginity backstage)
[requested by Patron]
The stadium was a fucking nightmare. You’d rather be anywhere else—curled in bed with pizza grease on your chin, rewatching your favorite show for the third time this week. But no. Your friend Mina, who’d won these impossible tickets, had come down with a stomach bug, and your other friend, Soojin, refused to go alone. So here you were, hours from home, getting elbowed in the ribs by a sea of screaming strangers because Soojin wanted to be in the pit, “where the magic happens.”
You loved your friends, you really did. But right now, you loved the idea of your quiet apartment more. The music was loud, the pyrotechnics were blinding, and the crowd’s energy was a physical, sweaty force pushing you around. You knew BTS were good—Soojin never shut up about them—but you’d never been interested in stanning anyone. It felt like too much work.
Except.
There was one.
He kept catching your eye. He had an arm sleeved in intricate tattoos, a detail you found inexplicably, instantly hot. His face was sweet, almost boyish, but the way he moved… fuck. It was pure, undiluted sex appeal. Hips rolling, sweat making his white tank top cling to every cut and plane of his torso. He was performing near your side of the stage, and every time his gaze swept over the crowd, it felt like it snagged on you.
“That’s Jungkook!” Soojin screamed in your ear over the music, pointing. “Main vocalist! Main dancer! Golden Maknae! My future husband!”
You just nodded, your eyes locked with his for a beat too long before another explosion of fireworks made you flinch and look away. But you felt it. A weird, hot twist low in your belly. Every time you glanced back, he seemed to be looking right at you, a smirk playing on his lips even as he belted out a high note.
The concert finally ended in a shower of glitter and deafening cheers. Your ears were ringing, your feet ached, and you were drenched in a mixture of your sweat and other people’s. Freedom was so close you could taste it.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” you said, tugging Soojin’s arm toward the nearest exit.
But before you could make it five steps, two people in crisp, black staff uniforms blocked your path. A man and a woman, with polite, professional smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.
“Excuse me, miss?” the woman said, her voice calm amidst the post-concert chaos. “Could we have a word with you?”
Your heart jumped into your throat. “Me? Why?”
Soojin’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god. What did you do?”
“Nothing!” you hissed. You looked at the staff members. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem at all,” the man assured you. “Just a private conversation. If you could come with us?”
Panic flirted with curiosity. You looked at Soojin. “It’s fine. I’ll catch up with you outside.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, looking between you and the staff.
“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll text you.”
You followed the two staff members through a maze of backstage corridors, away from the departing crowd. The noise faded, replaced by the hum of industrial lighting and your own nervous heartbeat. They led you to a plain door and opened it, gesturing for you to enter.
Inside was a small, sterile-looking room. A man in an expensive-looking suit stood next to a table where another man was arranging some documents. The suited man stepped forward.
“Good evening. I’m Mr. Park, Jeon Jungkook’s manager.” He gestured to the documents. “The artist saw you in the audience and would like to extend an invitation for some… personal time this evening, if you’re willing.”
You blinked. A laugh bubbled up in your chest. This had to be a prank. Some weird fan-experience thing Soojin had secretly signed you up for.
“Personal time,” you repeated flatly.
“Yes. All your travel and accommodation expenses would be covered, of course. And you would need to sign this non-disclosure agreement.” He slid a folder toward you.
You stared at it, then at his serious face. This was insane. You were about to say no, to walk out and find Soojin and laugh about this later.
Then you saw him.
A face peeked through a small, high window in the door—a door you hadn’t even noticed on the other side of the room. It was him. Jungkook. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours. That same hot, twisting feeling from the concert ignited in your belly, lower this time, pooling between your thighs. His gaze was a physical touch.
Mr. Park noticed your distraction and followed your look. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod toward the window.
Swallowing hard, you opened the folder. It was a standard NDA, full of legal jargon about confidentiality and financial penalties. Behind it was another document. You flipped it open and your breath hitched.
It was a medical report. Jeon Jungkook. Date of birth: September 1, 1997. Blood type: A. A list of vaccinations. And a recent, clean STD panel.
Your face flushed. “What… what is this for?”
Mr. Park cleared his throat. “All necessary… medications will be taken care of.”
“Medications?” you asked, confusion warring with the heat spreading through your body.
The door with the window opened suddenly, and Jungkook stepped inside. He’d changed out of his stage clothes into simple black jeans and a tight grey t-shirt that showed off every muscle of his chest and arms. His tattoos were on full display. He looked even bigger up close, his presence filling the small room.
“He means Plan B,” Jungkook said, his voice lower, rougher than it sounded on stage. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes devouring you. “Morning-after pill.”
The two suited men didn’t even flinch. Mr. Park just adjusted his cufflinks.
Your mouth went dry. “Why?” The word came out a whisper. You knew what Plan B was. You knew what his implication meant.
Jungkook pushed off the doorframe and took a step toward you. The room seemed to shrink as all the other people left, leaving you two alone. “Because I like to do it raw.”
A full-body shiver wracked you at his crude, direct words. The heat between your legs throbbed in response, even as your brain screamed in protest.
“That’s… incredibly presumptuous,” you managed, finding a shred of your usual sass. “And rude.”
A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face. He closed the distance between you in two strides. You had to tilt your head back to look up at him. He smelled like sweat, cologne, and something uniquely male. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, and his whisper was a low growl that went straight to your core.
“Presumptuous? You spent two hours dancing those perfect little tits of yours right in my line of sight. You think I didn’t see? You think I could look at anything else?” His hand came up, not touching you, but hovering near your hip. “You distracted me, baby. Made me mess up a step. Now I owe you a punishment for that.”
His words were outrageous, arrogant. You should shove him away. But your hands, which came up to press against his solid chest, didn’t push. They flexed against the hard muscle under the soft cotton. You liked how big he felt. You liked the danger in his eyes.
“I wasn’t dancing for you,” you breathed, the protest weak even to your own ears.
He just chuckled, a dark, promising sound. Jungkook’s smirk didn’t fade. He took your hand, his fingers lacing through yours with a possessiveness that made you gasp, and led you out of the sterile room, down another hallway to a different door. This one opened into what looked like a lavish green room—plush couches, a low table with drinks, soft lighting.
He didn’t give you time to look around. As soon as the door clicked shut, he spun you and pushed you back against it, his body caging you in. His hands framed your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.
“Gonna kiss you now,” he stated, no question in his tone.
And then his mouth was on yours.
It wasn’t sweet or tentative. It was hungry and demanding, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kissed like he performed—with complete, devastating focus. You moaned into his mouth, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He tasted like mint and something addictive.
One of his hands slid down from your face, over your throat, your collarbone, to palm your breast through your thin concert t-shirt. He groaned against your lips.
“Fuck, they’re perfect. Knew they would be.” He squeezed, his thumb finding your nipple and rubbing it into a hard peak. The fabric was suddenly too much. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and yanked your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra followed a second later.
The cool air hit your skin, followed instantly by the heat of his gaze. He looked at your bare breasts like he was starving.
“Pretty,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he dipped his head and took one nipple into his mouth.
You cried out, your head thumping back against the door. His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue lashing and circling your peak before he sucked hard, drawing the sensitive flesh deep. It was a direct line of pleasure to your clit, which pulsed achingly in your soaked panties.
“Loved how these bounced,” he growled, switching to your other breast, biting the nipple gently before soothing it with his tongue. “Every time you jumped. Fucking hypnotic.”
“J-Jungkook—” you panted.
He pulled back, his lips glistening. “You better not bounce these perfect tits for anyone else, you hear me?” His voice was low, deadly serious. He slapped your inner thigh, the sharp sting making you jolt and gasp. “They’re mine to look at now. My girl’s tits.”
The possessiveness, the sheer audacity, should have pissed you off. Instead, your pussy clenched, wetness soaking through your panties. You were dizzy with it.
He dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands hooking into the waistband of your jeans and panties. In one rough move, he shoved them down your legs. You stepped out of them, completely bare now except for your socks. He stared at your pussy, his eyes wide and dark with lust.
“Fuck,” he breathed. He ran a single finger through your soaked folds, collecting your slick. He held it up, showing you the glistening evidence. “Look at this. So fucking wet for me already. Greedy little cunt, isn’t it?”
You moaned, humiliated and unbearably turned on. He rubbed your clit in slow, firm circles, watching your face contort.
“Please,” you whimpered.
“Please what, darling?”
“Just… be gentle,” you whispered, the confession tumbling out. “It’s… it’s my first time.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest. He surged up from his knees, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. This one was fiercer, wilder. He bit your lower lip, sucking on it.
“Gentle?” he rasped against your lips. “No, baby. I’m gonna ruin this perfect, tight little cunt for anyone else. Gonna wreck it. Make it so only my cock fits.” He kissed you again, swallowing your gasp. “You understand? This pussy belongs to me now.”
You tried to muster a bicker, a protest, but his fingers were back between your legs, sliding through your slickness before he gave your clit a sharp, stinging slap.
You yelped, jumping in his arms. Pleasure-pain shot through you.
“See?” he cooed, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “So greedy. It’s leaking just ‘cause I slapped it.” He pushed one finger inside you, and you both groaned at the same time.
The stretch was immediate, intense. You were so tight.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, his forehead dropping to yours as he worked his finger in deeper, curling it. “So fucking tight. Virgin pussy.” He added a second finger, the burn making you cry out. “Shh, baby, take it. Gotta get you ready for my cock. It’s so much bigger than this.”
He fingered you ruthlessly, scissoring and curling his fingers, rubbing that spot inside that made you see stars. His other hand groped your breast, pinching your nipple.
“Gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” he promised, his voice husky in your ear. “Wanna feel that pretty cunt clamp down.”
You were babbling, nonsensical pleas and moans falling from your lips as he drove you higher. The coil in your belly tightened, snapped.
“Jungkook! I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Cum,” he ordered. “Cum on my fingers, little whore. Show me how bad you wanted this.”
Your orgasm ripped through you, violent and shocking. You screamed, your body convulsing around his invading fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. You went limp against the door, supported only by his arm around your waist.
He pulled his fingers out, shiny with your release, and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a loud, obscene pop. His eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“So sweet,” he groaned. “Fuck, I can’t wait.”
He picked you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you to the large, leather couch in the middle of the room. He laid you on your stomach, then dragged your hips up until you were on your knees, ass in the air, face pressed into the cool leather.
“Perfect,” he muttered behind you. You heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of his zipper.
You tried to look back, but a firm hand on the back of your neck kept you down. “Stay.”
Then his fingers were back at your entrance, now three of them, pushing inside your still-fluttering, oversensitive channel. You whimpered into the couch.
“Gotta stretch you more, love. My cock’s a monster.” He fucked you with his fingers, rough and fast, the wet sounds filthy in the quiet room. “Gonna fill this cunt up ‘til you’re dripping with me.”
He pulled his fingers out. Then you felt it—the thick, heavy head of his cock slapping against your soaked folds. You gasped. It felt huge. Hot and velvety-hard.
He rubbed it up and down your slit, coating himself in your arousal, teasing your clit with the broad tip.
“Look at it,” he said, his voice strained. You managed to crane your neck just enough to see over your shoulder.
Your eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. His cock was… massive. Long, thick, veined, and an angry red at the tip. It looked obscene nestled against your small body. It was a fucking weapon.
“It’s not gonna fit,” you breathed, panic lacing the arousal.
“It’ll fit,” he promised darkly. “I’ll make it fit.”
He positioned himself, the blunt head pressing insistently against your tight entrance. He pushed forward, just an inch.
You cried out at the burn, the unbelievable stretch. It was too much.
“Shh, baby, just breathe,” he soothed, but his voice was tight with his own restraint. He pushed another inch, his grip on your hips bruising. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so good.”
He kept going, a slow, relentless invasion that stole the air from your lungs. You were so full, stretched wider than you thought possible. Tears leaked from your eyes, mixing with the drool on the couch from your open-mouthed pants.
When he finally bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass, you both froze. He was buried to the hilt inside you. You could feel every throbbing inch of him.
“Fuck,” he choked out. “You took it all. My good girl.” He leaned over you, his chest plastered to your back, his mouth by your ear. “Now I’m gonna ruin you.”
He pulled back slowly, then slammed back in.
You saw white.
A scream tore from your throat as he set a brutal, punishing pace from the very first thrust. There was no gentle warm-up. This was claiming. Each snap of his hips drove him impossibly deep, hitting spots inside you that made your toes curl and your vision blur.
The rough leather of the couch rubbed against your hard nipples with every thrust, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through you. He noticed, pinching one between his fingers and twisting.
“Look at your slutty body,” he grunted, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. “Nipples hard, pussy gushing… loving every second of having your virginity taken by a stranger.” He punctuated his words with harder thrusts. “But I’m not a stranger anymore, am I? I own this cunt now. Say it.”
You couldn’t speak. You were sobbing, a continuous stream of “ah, ah, ah!” with each powerful drive of his cock.
“Say it!” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back.
“You own it!” you wailed, the submission tearing from you. “You own my pussy!”
“Damn right I do.”
His pace became frenzied, the slapping sound of skin on skin, the wet squelch of your overstimulated cunt taking his massive cock filling the room. The coil inside you was building again, tighter, more intense than the first time.
“J-Jungkook… I feel… I’m gonna—”
“Squirt for me,” he ordered, his voice guttural. “Soak my cock. Let me feel it.”
The command tipped you over the edge. Your second orgasm wasn’t a wave; it was an explosion. A gush of liquid heat erupted from you as he hammered into your G-spot, soaking his cock, his balls, the couch beneath you. Your body spasmed violently around him, milking his length, and the sensation pushed him over the edge too.
With a final, deep roar, he buried himself as far as he could go and came. You felt the hot, thick pulses of his cum flooding your deepest parts, marking you from the inside. He kept thrusting through it, fucking his seed deeper, until he finally collapsed over you, spent.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of your combined panting and the wet drip of fluids.
He slowly pulled out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, the oversensitive ache. You felt a hot trickle start to escape your used hole.
Before you could move, you felt him shift behind you. Then something soft and silky was pressed against your entrance.
You weakly looked back over your shoulder.
Jungkook was on his knees behind you, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with your mixed fluids. In his hands was his black silk tie he got from somewhere. He was folding it into a thick pad.
With a cocky smile that made your heart stutter even in your exhausted state, he pressed the folded tie against your leaking entrance and pushed.
You gasped as the material slid inside, stuffing you, plugging you up.
“Can’t have you leaking all over my car seats,” he said, his voice rough but satisfied. He gave the end of the tie a little pat against your swollen clit, making you jump. “Our night’s far from over, darling.”
(full version contains jungkook fucking you in his car and taking you to his place to breed you until your belly is bloated then clean you out)
tags for full version: daddy kink, you call jungkook daddy and Jungkook plays with your tits for being a good girl, clit pinching, getting drunk on squirting so much, car sex, missionary position, getting fucked you scream in Jungkook's car and get it all wet and dirty, breeding kink, Jungkook carries you inside his penthouse while you're hanging on his cock, balcony sex, belly bulge, filling you with so much cum your belly bloats, marathon sex, squirting so hard you spasm, mirror sex, very wet and messy, shower sex, titty fucking, Jungkook cleans out his cum from your pussy by spanking you and eating you out, cunnilingus, you squirt on his face.
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
annaxmalina
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
