summary: heβs home. eighteen months of denial. and now, the front door clicks shut behind him. the flashes stop. the noise fades. and all thatβs left is you.
your voice. your rules. your power.
he remembers everything. every command. every ache. every way he was made to perform for you. and tonight, after all this time, he finally gets to please you again.
warnings: military discharge, established d/s dynamic, dom!reader, sub!jungkook, obedience/service kink, restraints (cuffs, blindfolds), orgasm control & denial, pegging m!receiving, spanking m!receiving, face sitting, oral fixation kink, praise & degradation kink, crying/emotionally overwhelmed jk, cumplay, overstimulation, lube & toys, a dash of military uniform kink π€, jungkook calling reader mistress/noona πππ, mental check ins between scenes, soft aftercare
word count: 8,840
a message from our sponsors ππ½ββοΈ: okay so this is insane. i didnβt realize how long this drabble was until i was editing. it was difficult for me to write from a domβs perspective (not to be too tmi but i prefer to lean way more submissive in my relationships). i kept thinking i hadnβt written enough for the drabble and now its double the word count of all the others π€¦π½ββοΈπ€¦π½ββοΈ well, whatever..hopefully you guys like it. iβve seen a few sub!jk stories and wanted to try my hand at it π
The front door closed behind him with a soft click.
Outside, the world was still spinning. Reporters still lingering, flashes still going off, Jimin already texting him nonsense from the car en route to his apartment, but in here?
It was just him.
And you.
Jungkook exhaled as he slipped out of his boots, the weight of eighteen months settling at his feet like dust. The air inside your home was warm, humid with the scent of ginger, sesame oil, and garlicβyour cooking. His favorite. The smell hit him in the chest like a memory and a promise.
He dropped his duffel by the door, throat tight.
βIβm home,β he called softly, voice already laced with need.
From somewhere deeper in the apartment your voice floated back, cool and calm and unmistakably you.
βGet on your knees.β
His breath hitched.
The smile that crept across his lips wasnβt a happy one, it was relieved.
βPut your hands behind your back.β
Jungkook was already sinking to the floor.
His knees hit the wood with a quiet thud. He rolled his shoulders back and laced his fingers behind him, eyes fixed on the hallway aheadβ¦waiting.
Breath slowing. Head bowed slightly. Heart racing in his chest like a drum called to war.
Just like that, his body remembered.
Even after months of rigidity, rules, and military order, this was what brought him peace. You were his structure. His command. His reward.
His cock hardened instantly in his fatigues, straining uncomfortably against the stiff material, but he didnβt adjust it. Didnβt move. Not without permission.
Jungkook closed his eyes.
God, heβd missed this.
Missed you.
Missed the sound of your voice, stern, soft, all powerful.
Missed the weight of your gaze on him.
Missed the way his body hummed the moment you took control.
And now he was here, finally home, hands folded neatly behind his back, knees pressed to the floor, and waiting patiently.
Ready.
Yours.
β
His knees had gone numb.
But he didnβt move.
Didnβt fidget. Didnβt shift. Didnβt so much as glance around the room.
Jungkook knelt where you told him to, hands clasped behind his back, cock straining beneath the tight press of his uniform. And when the scent of your perfume slid around the corner, wrapping its fingers around his throat like silk?
He nearly whimpered.
Then you stepped into view.
And he did whimper.
Because you were in nothing but an apron. Thin cotton tied at the back, hem brushing your thighs, the curve of your hips bare, your chest barely concealed, nipples peaked beneath the soft fabric.
You tilted your head, not missing the way his breath hitched at the sight of you.
βWell,β you said, voice lilting like amusement dripped in honey, βthey let you out early. Thought for sure theyβd keep the kitchen staff for cleanup.β
Jungkookβs cheeks flushed.
βI wasnβtββ
You raised a brow. βYou werenβt what, soldier?β
He shut his mouth fast, eyes lowering. βI wasnβt trying to argue, mistress.β
You hummed approvingly, arms crossing under your breasts. βSmart. Just a glorified cafeteria boy and still knows his place. Iβm impressed.β
His cock throbbed at your words, the quiet cruelty in your tone, and the heat building behind your eyes.
And you knew it.
βStill so obedient after all this time,β you murmured, taking slow, measured steps toward him, heels clicking against the wood. βStill kneeling so pretty. Like nothingβs changed.β
You paused just a few feet in front of him. Close enough to see the way his throat bobbed. Close enough for him to smell the perfume on your skin and the faint hint of something sugary in your hair.
βBut something has changed,β you whispered. Then, slowly, teasingly, you untied the bow at your back, and the apron slid forward an inch.
Jungkookβs eyes remained fixed on your feet, but you could see the tremble in his jaw, the flush on his neck.
You pulled the apron loose from your body, baring your chest, your stomach, the curve of your thighsβeverything.
His breath stuttered.
βBe good,β you warned softly. βEyes down.β
He didnβt move.
Not even when the apron dropped to the floor in front of him like a gauntlet.
You stepped out of it, bare now in every way that mattered, and paced around him like a flame licking at the edges of his restraint.
And still, he didnβt look.
Perfect.
βYouβve missed this, havenβt you?β you whispered, circling him like a predator. βMissed this house. This smell. This floor. Your place on it.β
βYes, mistress,β he rasped, voice hoarse with need.
You stopped behind him, leaned in close.
βMissed me?β
His head bowed further, nearly to the floor. βMore than anything.β
Your hand softly cupped his throat from behind, full of possession.
βYou poor thing,β you murmured. βSo starved for touch, and yet still so well trained. Youβre mine, arenβt you, Jungkook?β
βYes, mistress. Always.β
βGood.β
You moved back into view, standing before him once more.
βNow,β you said, stepping just close enough that the scent of your arousal reached his nose, βIβm going to cook while you continue kneeling like the good boy you are. And if youβre lucky, maybe Iβll let you taste what youβve really been craving when Iβm done.β
Jungkook bit down a moan and bowed his head again.
βThank you, mistress,β he whispered, trembling.
Jungkookβs thighs ached. His back protested. His cock throbbed so hard it felt like it had its own pulse.
Still, he didnβt move and didnβt speak.
Just continued kneeling where you left him. Staring at the apron piled in front of him.
He listened to the rustle of cookware and the faint bubbling of sauce from the stove. The way your heels clicked against the floor as you moved through the kitchen. Occasionally, he caught the sound of you humming to yourself under your breath, unconcerned with his presence.
That alone made him dizzy.
He was here, in your home, finally, after months of nothing but letters and rules and routines. And you were treating him like the obedient little thing he was, like no time had passed at all.
It made his chest ache.
It made his cock ache worse.
By the time you returned, your steps slow and measured, the food steaming behind you on the dining table and your nipples tight in the cool air, Jungkook felt like he was seconds from begging.
But he stayed still.
And you smiled.
βGood boy,β you purred. βEighteen months and youβre still perfectly trained.β
His breath left him in a shaky exhale.
You stepped closer, brushing a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly until he dared to meet your eyes.
βI want you to go wash your hands, bunny,β you said sweetly. βUse the powder room. You can stand now.β
Jungkook obeyed immediately.
He rose in one fluid movement, stiff from stillness but graceful all the same. His cock strained visibly in his pants, but he made no move to relieve it. Only offered you a bow of his head and whispered, βYes, mistress,β before padding toward the powder room off the kitchen.
He passed you on the way, close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, close enough to inhale the sweetness clinging to your collarbone. He caught only a flicker of your bare back as he disappeared into the hall.
He washed his hands in silence, trying not to groan when he adjusted himself briefly in his fatigues.
When he returned, you were already at the table, one perfectly crossed leg revealing the curve of your thigh. A soft hum passed your lips as you filled his plate. Rice perfectly fluffed, meat steaming, the banchans were fragrant and colorful. You filled your own next, then folded your hands in your lap.
βYou may eat.β
It was the softest command heβd received all day.
And yet it hit him the hardest.
Jungkook bowed his head gratefully before picking up his chopsticks. The first bite of meat melted on his tongue. Tender, spiced, cooked with the kind of love no military cooking could ever mimic.
He moaned.
Loudly.
βFuck, mistress,β he said before he could stop himself. βThis is so good. Iββ
Then he looked at you again.
And almost choked.
Because while he was there, tucked beneath the soft glow of dining room light and chewing on perfectly seasoned chicken, you sat across from him, completely naked. Wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels and a small smile.
Casually eating.
Unbothered.
Like you werenβt slowly driving him to madness.
βM-mistress,β he stuttered, chopsticks freezing midair. His eyes dropped from your face to your breasts, to the bare skin of your stomach, to the place where your thighs pressed together just beneath the table.
He swallowed hard.
You didnβt look up. Just plucked another piece of chicken from your plate and chewed slowly.
βWhat is it, Jungkook?β you asked, feigning innocence.
βIβuhββ he tried, shifting in his seat.
βIs your food not to your liking?β
βNo, mistress! Itβsβitβs perfect.β
You finally looked up, eyes glittering. βThen eat, bunny. I didnβt spend all evening in the kitchen just for you to drool over my tits.β
Heat slammed into his gut like a fist.
βYes, mistress,β he whispered, red faced, and forced another bite into his mouthβeyes darting between his food and your legs beneath the table.
β
The first time your heel brushes his cock, Jungkook nearly drops his chopsticks.
Itβs subtle at first, just the curve of your foot nudging between his thighs, tracing along the inseam of his fatigues. But even that has him blinking hard, trying to stay composed, trying not to groan around a mouthful of rice.
Then the pressure increases.
The point of your heel glides up the length of his cock beneath the table, cruel and delicate. Jungkookβs whole body jerks.
You look completely serene, chewing thoughtfully, sipping water like your foot isnβt pressing into his crotch with dangerous precision.
βMistress,β he gasps softly, hips stuttering beneath the table.
You donβt look at him. βDid you follow the rules?β
He knows what you mean.
βYes, mistress,β he whispers, voice strangled with restraint. βI didnβt touch myself. Not once.β
Your smile is slow and satisfied. βNot even once?β
βNot even once,β he repeats, breathless. βIβI thought about you every night. But I didnβt touch.β
βMmmβ¦β You hum in approval, still not looking at him. βSuch a good boy.β
Jungkook makes a noise, something like a half moan, half exhale as you press firmer, dragging the tip of your heel down the underside of his cock to rest just above his balls. His pulse hammers under his skin and sweat beads at the nape of his neck.
Itβs not just the teasingβitβs you. You and your heels and your control. The scent of roasted meat still lingering in the air. The faint glisten of body oil on your bare chest. And now the image of your foot sliding along the line of his cock like you own him.
Because you do.
He grips the tableβs edge to ground himself. His food forgotten.
βYouβre not eating,β you note, eyes finally flicking to him. βAre you full?β
βIββ Jungkook swallows thickly, his cock straining violently against his pants. βYes, mistress. Iβm done. Thank you for cooking.β
Your head tilts, pleased.
βYouβre welcome, bunny.β Then you lean back, voice dipping low. βI made your favorite for dessert.β
Jungkookβs eyes go wide.
You slide your chair back with a low scrape of wood on wood, then slowly spread your legs.
Jungkook forgets to breathe.
Youβre wet and glistening under the warm light. And not wearing a single thing but those devastating heels means he can see everything. The soft, shaved curves of your pussy. The glint of slick between your folds. The shadowed heat waiting just for him.
His mouth waters instantly.
βOh, fuck,β he whispers, barely audible.
You trace two fingers lightly over your inner thigh and smile. βYouβve been such a good boy, Jungkook. Do you want dessert now?β
He nods too fast, eyes locked between your legs like a starving man watching his first meal in months. βYes, mistress. Please.β
You let your fingers slip lower, brushing just barely against your center as your voice goes saccharine sweet.
βThen crawl.β
Heβs out of his chair in a second, already on his knees.
His fatigues scrape against the floor as he moves, but he barely notices. Not when youβre seated before him like a goddess in nothing but heels and power. His mouth is dry, his heart a war drum in his chest.
You spread your legs wider and Jungkook feels his pulse skip.
βHands behind your back.β
The command is soft, but it cuts through him like a lash.
He obeys instantly, tucking his wrists behind him, spine straight, eyes locked on your dripping cunt. His cock aches where itβs trapped in his pants, throbbing in time with the tension that coils deep in his belly. But he doesnβt complain. He doesnβt move without your say so.
βGo ahead,β you murmur. βEat.β
Jungkook leans forward slowly, savoring the moment. The scent of you hits first. All warm and musky, and familiar. He closes his eyes just for a second, inhaling like heβs been denied oxygen for eighteen months.
And then his tongue touches you.
You gasp as he groans, licking up the length of your slit with an eager stroke. His mouth latches onto your clit immediately, suction gentle but insistent. He moans again, tongue swirling, lips parting to press hot, open kisses into your folds like heβs trying to commit you to memory.
The sound of you drives him mad as he works your pussy slowly.
Jungkook tastes you like a man starved, tongue sliding through every crease, every soft dip, learning you all over again. But the more you squirm, the more he hears those little breathless sighs and choked moans from above, the more frenzied he becomes.
You reach down, fingers threading into his hair.
βSuch a good boy,β you whisper, tugging him in closer. βMy perfect, obedient boy.β
He groans, rutting his hips into the air at the praise, tongue fucking into you faster. His nose bumps your clit just right, and your thighs tense around his ears. Your heel presses into his back like a brand, keeping him in place.
βYou missed this, didnβt you?β you murmur, breath hitching. βMissed worshiping your Mistress?β
Jungkook nods the best he can with his mouth stuffed full of your cunt, moaning against you like heβs already coming.
Youβre close and he knows it. You always tremble right before. Your thighs quiver just slightly, and your fingers tighten in his hair, and your cunt starts to pulse around his tongue like it knows him.
βDonβt stop,β you warn, voice sharp and sweet. βYou stop and you donβt get to cum tonight.β
He doubles down.
Flicks your clit faster. Presses his tongue deeper. Lets his jaw go slack so he can shake his head slowly between your thighs, building pressure just the way you taught him.
Your moan breaks into something breathless and high.
And then youβre cumming.
Hard.
Your thighs clamp tight around his ears, your hips bucking into his face, and Jungkook moans like heβs the one unraveling. He keeps licking through it, keeps drinking down everything you give him until your body slowly starts to relax.
You release his hair gently, your chest rising and falling in time with your breath.
Jungkook pulls back only when you nudge him, his chin slick, lips swollen and his eyes dazed with pure adoration. He waits, hands still behind his back, looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
You lean forward and drag your thumb across his lower lip.
βGood boy,β you purr. βNow get undressed. Slowly. I want to watch.β
Jungkook rises to his feet with devotion in every movement. His fingers go first to the buttons of his fatigues, but he pauses, looking at you for permission. A single nod is all it takes. He begins to undress, slowly, just like you told him.
He peels off each layer like itβs an offering, uniform jacket first, folded neatly and set aside. Then his undershirt, tugged over his head with trembling hands. You watch him the whole time from your seat, your legs still spread, your slickness glistening between your thighs, heels propped wide.
And yetβ¦
Thereβs a softness in your gaze now. Just for a second.
It makes his chest ache worse than his cock.
Youβre smiling. Not smug or sultry, but happy. A smile that cracks the mask of power you wear like a second skin. Your eyes shine, your throat tightens slightly, and Jungkook watches your smile tremble as you whisper, βI canβt believe youβre really home.β
He freezes, shirt halfway off.
The breath he takes is shallow, shaky. His voice barely works when he says, βI missed you so much, noona. I thought about you every day.β
You rise from your chair and you close the distance between you in three small steps. Your fingers find his jaw, thumbs brushing just beneath his eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, you pull him into a kiss thatβs heartbreakingly gentle.
No teasing. No control.
Just lips pressed to his like youβre afraid heβll disappear again.
Itβs him who makes a sound this time. A broken little whimper against your mouth. His arms twitch at his sides, needing to hold you, touch you, anchor you. But he doesnβt. Not without permission.
When you pull back, youβre flushed, breath shallow. Youβre so visibly happy it knocks the air out of his lungs.
But then your gaze sharpens.
The softness is gone in an instant, replaced by the glint of control in your eyes that makes Jungkookβs knees weak.
βDid I tell you to stop undressing?β you ask.
He scrambles. βNo, Mistress. Iβm sorry.β
βThen why are you standing there like you forgot how to move?β
βI didnβtβIβm justββ He bites back the babble of excuses, ducking his head. βIβll be good.β
βI know youβll be good,β you say, circling him slowly like a wolf scenting prey. βYou always are.β
You stop behind him.
Your palms brush over his back, down his sides, and he shivers when your nails lightly drag over his ribs.
βGet rid of the rest. Now.β
Jungkook obeys at once, pushing his pants and briefs down his legs with trembling urgency. His cock springs free, flushed dark, glistening with need and arching up toward his navel. He steps out of the rest of his clothes, then straightens, arms at his sides, chest rising and falling fast.
You step in front of him again.
Look down.
Smile.
βMy, my. Look at you,β you murmur. βStill obedient. Still desperate, and so fucking hard for me.β
He whines, hips twitching forward instinctively.
Your hand shoots out, palm cracking lightly against his thigh. βAh-ah. You do not fuck the air.β
βYes, Mistress,β he whispers, head spinning.
You grab his chin and tilt his face down toward yours. βYouβre not going to cum until I say so.β
βYes, Mistress.β
You trail your fingers down his chest, past his navel, barely grazing the base of his cock. He moans, knees wobbling slightly.
βYouβve been so patient,β you whisper, brushing your lips over his jaw. βSo well behaved.β
Your hand closes around him slowly.
He groans, cock twitching in your grip.
You pump him once. Twice. Enough to make his thighs tremble before you pull away completely.
βGo lie down,β you say. βWeβre just getting started.β
Jungkook stumbles toward the bedroom without hesitation, cock bobbing with each hurried step.
And you follow, your gaze locked on your boy. Your boy who waited eighteen months to come home to you. Your boy who would burn the world just to kneel at your feet again.
β
He reaches the bedroom and pauses just inside the threshold, unsure if heβs allowed to climb onto the bed without being told.
But youβre already behind him, watching.
βGood boy,β you say softly.
Jungkook swears his knees nearly give out. Those two words hit deeper than any kiss, deeper than any touch. He feels them all the way in his gut.
βOn the bed. Head at the pillows.β
He scrambles up, doing exactly as heβs told. His cock aches, heavy and flushed against his stomach, but he doesnβt dare touch it. Not without instruction.
You take your time walking around the room. Your heels echo softly against the wood floor, and the only thing Jungkook can focus on is the gentle sway if your hips with every step.
Then he hears the drawer and soft metallic clink of cuffs.
His breath catches.
You walk over to the bed, holding a pair of padded leather restraints in your hand. The sight of them sends Jungkookβs heart pounding. His hips twitch upward instinctively before he forces himself to be still.
βHands above your head,β you say.
He obeys without hesitation, and you crawl onto the bed with the calm, practiced ease of someone whoβs done this many times and knows exactly how to break him apart.
Your fingers brush over his wrists, and Jungkook swears he could come from just that.
βStill okay?β you murmur, checking his eyes.
βYes, Mistress,β he says, voice breathless. βPleaseβyes.β
The cuffs go on gently, secured to the headboard with quiet clicks. Theyβre snug, but soft. Comforting, even. Like he belongs there.
You sit back on your heels and admire him.
There he isβspread out for you, skin flushed, chest rising and falling fast, cock leaking against his stomach, muscles twitching as he fights to hold still.
And when your hand trails from his collarbone down his chest, Jungkook moans, his arms flexing uselessly against the restraints.
βLook at you,β you murmur. βSo obedient. So hard.β
He swallows. βI missed this.β
You smile, slow and wicked. βI can tell.β
You donβt touch him again. Not yet.
Instead, you shift to the end of the bed and sit between his spread thighs. Your hands push gently at his knees, encouraging him to stay open for you. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his inner thigh. Not his cock. Just beside it.
He moans, shivering at the softness of it.
Another kiss. Higher this time.
And another, near the base of his shaft.
He whines, tugging helplessly at the restraints.
βM-Mistressβ¦β
βSomething you want, bunny?β
He chokes on a breath. βPlease touch me.β
βOh?β Your lips graze the tip of his cock but never wrap around it. βYou were so good for so long. Not even one touch while you were away?β
βNo, Mistress,β he gasps. βI followed the rules.β
βEven when you couldnβt sleep?β you ask, voice lower now, sultry and curious. βEven when the barracks were dark and quiet and you were all aloneβ¦ hard and aching for me?β
He whimpers.
βYes, Mistress,β he says again. βI didnβt touch myself. Not once.β
You finally reach out, stroking a single fingertip along the underside of his cock.
He twitches violently, hips jerking upward before he can stop himself.
βMmh,β you sigh. βYou really are my good boy, arenβt you?β
βYes,β he pleads, voice already beginning to break. βPleaseβplease let me cum.β
You wrap your hand around him.
Not to stroke. Just to hold him, and he moans, helpless under the weight of your grip.
βYou donβt get to come yet,β you whisper. βYouβre going to thank me properly first.β
Jungkook nods, trembling, eyes wide and glassy. βYes, Mistress. Anything.β
You shift up the bed again and straddle his face.
His heart nearly bursts from his chest.
And thenβyou lower yourself slowly until your heat is pressed against his mouth.
He groans like he needs this more than air.
His tongue works desperately between your folds, lapping and sucking, nose buried in the soft swell of you, and your moans. Those soft breathy sighs make him throb helplessly in the air.
He licks like heβs praying.
You ride his face with a slow, controlled rhythm, fingers gripping his hair, and he lets you take everything from him, his breath, his restraint, his mind. When you finally come, shuddering and gasping, he moans beneath you like he just found heaven.
And when you lift off of him, soaked and radiant, you smile down at him like heβs your prize.
βStill want to cum, bunny?β
Heβs breathless. βMore than anything.β
You reach between his thighs and stroke him once, twice, just enough to make him cry out.
Then you climb off the bed, and leave him there.
Eyes wide.
Mouth parted.
Cock leaking.
And you say, cool and casual, βThen be patient. Weβre not done yet.β
He watches you walk away from the bed, his entire body trembling with need. His cock pulses in the air, flushed dark and leaking, glistening at the tip with every beat of his heart. Every instinct screams at him to chase you, to reach for you, to do something.
But he canβt.
His wrists are still cuffed above his head. And you havenβt told him to move.
So he doesnβt.
Instead, he watches, helpless and hungry, as you walk over to the dresser and open the shallow velvet lined drawer. The one that holds all the toys you love to use on him. His eyes go wide when you lift the wand vibrator from its place.
You donβt say a word as you climb back onto the bed.
But your smile speaks volumes.
You straddle his thigh, kissing the inside of his knee, then the curve of his hip. Heβs panting already. Shaking. Barely keeping his whimpers contained.
βTsk,β you scold softly. βWhat did I say about staying still?β
βI-Iβm sorry, Mistress,β he gasps. βI couldnβt help it.β
You hum, tapping the wand lightly against his thigh.
βI think you can help it. You just needβ¦ more practice.β
And then you begin again.
The wand returns to the base of his shaft this time, sliding slowly up the length of him before you lift it just as it kisses the swollen head. Again and again. No pressure. No friction. Just the constant vibration around him but never enough.
Jungkook moans, his hands clenching into fists above him, his abs twitching as he tries to keep himself anchored.
βPlease,β he whispers, voice cracking. βPlease, Mistressβ¦ please let me cumβ¦β
You tilt your head, pretending to think. βHmmβ¦ no.β
You stroke him once with your free hand. Just once.
Itβs devastating.
He cries out again, hips stuttering, the heat coiling too tight in his belly now, too fucking much to endure.
βYou want to cum that badly, bunny?β you murmur, placing the wand against his inner thigh while your hand wraps around his cock.
βYes,β he breathes, chest heaving. βYesβplease, Iβll do anything.β
Your grip begins to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, paired with the soft hum of the wand teasing the space just beneath his balls.
βAnything?β you echo.
He nods rapidly, moaning, breathless and ruined. βYes. Yes, Mistress.β
You lean over him, your mouth just above his, voice a whisper of silk and steel.
βThen youβll hold it.β
He sobs.
Because he knows whatβs coming.
You stroke faster, the wand drifting closer, the pressure finally increasing. His body arches, tenses, his thighs trembling. Heβs right on the edge.
You lean in again, licking a stripe up his throat before whispering, βDonβt you dare cum.β
He tries. He tries so hard. But heβs been waiting eighteen long months. His mind is foggy, body burning, nerves alight with the promise of release.
And it breaks him.
He comes with a choked cry, body convulsing under your touch as his release spills across his belly and chest, thick and hot and endless. His entire body shudders from the force of it.
And the moment heβs finished you stop. The wand powers off with a click. And your hand stills. Silence settles in the room, save for Jungkookβs panting breaths and the soft whine of his voice breaking.
βIβm sorryβ¦β He sounds wrecked. Wrecked and afraid.
You climb up beside him and stroke his hair back from his forehead.
βI know,β you say softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. βThat was beautiful, bunny. But I told you not to cum.β
Tears prick at his eyes.
βI triedβI tried so hardββ
You hush him gently. βYou did. And Iβm proud of you.β
You press your lips to his temple and uncuff his wrists slowly, gently, massaging each one after the release.
βBut youβll need to be punished.β
Jungkook nods, broken and grateful. βYes, Mistress. Please.β
You smile. βDonβt worry. Thatβll come later.β
You let him curl up in your arms after that, pressing slow kisses to his flushed cheeks and whispering praise in his ear. You stroke his hair, gently bring him back down. He clings to you, boneless, sated, and soft.
Eventuallyβyour hand drifts back between his thighs.
He gasps softly.
βYou didnβt think you were done, did you?β
The cuffs are gone, but his wrists still tingle with the phantom ache of restraint.
Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes glassy and red rimmed, his body limp where it sinks into the bed. Heβs flushed everywhere, chest rising and falling, thighs twitching with leftover tremors, cum drying sticky across his skin.
You sit beside him, naked and composed, with a wet towel in hand and that same unreadable look in your eyes. He knows that look. Knows it so well.
It means youβre checking in.
You donβt speak at first, just reach out and gently clean him. Your touch is soft. Wiping his chest, his belly, between his legs. He doesnβt even flinch when you wipe over his sensitive cock, still hard, flushed and twitchy from being pushed too far too fast.
He moans softly instead, half lidded eyes watching you work.
When youβre done, you lean forward and press your forehead to his.
βColor?β you whisper.
His throat works around the swell of emotion. βGreen, Mistress.β
You cup his cheek with your clean hand, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheekbone.
βAre you okay?β
βYes,β he breathes. βBetter than okay. Iβ¦ I missed this. Missed you.β
The honesty in his voice carves right through you, and for a moment, the second time today, you falter. The hard edges soften. The roles blur. Your fingers slide into his hair and your lips meet his in a kiss thatβs less command and more confession.
You whisper his name like a prayer. He whispers yours back like heβs scared itβll disappear.
βDid I push too far?β you murmur, eyes searching.
Jungkook shakes his head immediately, pressing into your palm like a cat begging for affection.
βNo. Please donβt hold back with me. I need this. I need you.β
You nod slowly, exhale against his jaw.
βThen Iβll take care of you. Just like always.β
You coax him to sit up so you can massage his shoulders and rub balm over the light marks left by the cuffs. He leans into every touch, humming softly, melting back against your body when you cradle him from behind. His hands come up to hold your forearms where they cross his chest, grounding himself in your presence.
βThank you,β he whispers again, voice cracking with how much he means it.
You smile, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
βMy good boy,β you whisper.
And just like thatβhe shudders again. Moans at the praise, and his cock twitches back to life, still so responsive, so eager to please.
You notice, of course. You always notice.
βLooks like someoneβs ready again,β you murmur, dragging your nails lightly down his torso until heβs shivering in your grasp.
Jungkook whines.
βYes, Mistress. Pleaseβ¦β
You smile against his throat, kissing your way down his pulse point.
βThen hands back behind your head. Knees spread. Stay still while I decide what I want to do with you next.β
He obeys instantly. Because he always does.
β
He canβt see you.
The blindfold hugs snug across his eyes, cutting off the last of the ambient light. His breathing slows, deepens, as he settles back into submission. The sound of the drawer opening sharpens every nerve. The soft clink of buckles, the whisper of leather.
He knows whatβs coming.
And he wants it.
He kneels again, this time on the bed, wrists bound behind his back in the new cuffs youβve buckled together. His chest rises and falls with anticipation, muscles flexing as he adjusts to the vulnerable position.
You take your time.
You always do.
He hears you step around him, feels the shift of air as you circle. Every molecule of him is attuned to your presence. The soft click of your heels. The slight change in the mattress when you climb up behind him.
And thenβsmack.
He jerks, breath catching in his throat as your hand lands clean across his ass. Not too hard or light. Just enough to make his cock throb where it hangs heavy between his thighs.
He moans. Instinctively shifts forward.
You click your tongue.
βBack in place, Jungkook.β
βYes, Mistress,β he pants, throat dry.
Another slap, this time to the other cheek. He moans louder, head falling forward. You lean in, tongue dragging over the faint red mark as your fingers squeeze and knead the flesh lovingly.
βSuch a responsive boy,β you whisper. βYou missed this, didnβt you?β
βYes, Mistress,β he breathes. βMissed everything.β
You hum, pleased, and trail your fingers lower until youβre gently stroking his cock. Heβs rock hard again. A bead of precum paints the tip, smearing down your palm as you tease him with a featherlight grip.
βMm,β you muse. βSo obedient. So needy. And to think you didnβt touch yourself onceβ¦β
βI wanted to,β Jungkook admits, voice tight. βEvery night. Every time I thought of you. But IβI kept my promise.β
You reward him with another stroke. Another kiss between the shoulder blades. Another slap across his ass that has him biting down on a moan that still escapes.
When you finally unbuckle the cuffs and guide him onto his back, he whimpers at the relief in his arms and the heat still coiling in his belly.
You whisper, βStay still,β and fasten the cuffs again, this time to the headboard. Then you run your palm over his blindfolded face, your thumb dragging across his parted lips before you slide two fingers into his mouth.
βSuck.β
He does.
Desperately.
And as he sucks, he hears the soft click of the bottle. The squelch of lube. The glide of something familiar being prepped above him. His cock twitches violently in response.
βColor?β
βGreen, Mistress,β he gasps, lips wet.
βGood.β
When you finally push his legs up and over your shoulders, lubed fingers pressing inside him with practiced ease, Jungkookβs whole body sings. He groans shamelessly, tears welling beneath the blindfold as he rocks into your touch.
And once youβve stretched him enough after all this time, you slide the strap on into him.
He cries out at the stretch. At the fullness. At the sound of your moan as you bottom out inside him. He never thought he could feel owned and worshipped at the same time, but here he is, spread and trembling and completely yours.
You fuck him slow at first. Delicate. Measured. His ankles tremble on your shoulders, bound wrists yanking at the cuffs, head thrown back as you fuck him deeper with each thrust.
βGod, you feel perfect like this,β you murmur, hands braced on his hips. βTaking me so well. Being so good for me.β
He sobs out a moan, completely undone.
βSay it,β you command softly. βSay who owns you.β
βYou do,β he cries. βYou own me, Mistress. Only you.β
You reward him with a sharper thrust, angling just right so the dildo taps against his prostate until heβs wailing through gritted teeth.
He doesnβt last long.
Between your rhythm, the slap of skin, the filthy praise pouring from your mouth, and the ache of need finally being met, Jungkook cums untouched and without warning, cock spurting over his abs and chest, whole body trembling like a man possessed.
And you donβt stop.
You slow down, soften your grip, and fuck him through every aftershock like you have all the time in the world.
The cuffs clink softly as his wrists tug against the headboard.
Heβs panting hard, blindfold still in place, cum cooling on his stomach, thighs trembling from the force of his orgasm.
Silence stretches.
Too long.
Your strap has already slid out of him, your touch no longer bracing his hips.
And Jungkookβs stomach knots.
He hadnβt meant to. He swore heβd last. Swore heβd hold on until you told him to let go. Thatβs what a good boy does. Thatβs what your good boy would do.
But he didnβt.
βFuck,β he breathes, voice shaking. βMistressββ
Still, no touch. No praise. Just quiet.
βI didnβt mean toβI didnβt want toβ¦β His words falter as panic creeps in. βPlease donβt be mad at me.β
Youβre still watching him, silent and still. Itβs not punishment, not truly, but itβs your favorite kind of discipline: space to think.
Jungkookβs voice cracks. βIβm sorry. I didnβt mean to finish without permission.β
The desperation threads between each syllable like a plea.
βI justβ Itβs been so long, I triedβbut you feel so good, youβre always so good to me, I justββ
He cuts himself off with a gasp when your fingers glide up his trembling thigh, smearing through his own release to press gently over his still hard cock.
βDo you think good boys cum without asking?β
βNo, Mistress,β he whispers.
βSo what does that make you?β
His breath catches. βA bad boy.β
βMm. You didnβt used to be,β you hum. βI guess the military made you forget your place.β
βNo!β The panic returns. βI remember. I remember everything. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me touch youβplease let me taste youβpleaseββ
You chuckle softly, cruel in the gentlest way.
βOh, now you remember who you are.β
He nods quickly under the blindfold. βYes, Mistress. Always yours. I never forgot. I swear.β
You loosen the cuffs slowly, not with mercy, but with intent. Dragging out the anticipation until Jungkook is free but still stays put. He doesnβt dare move without instruction. He wouldnβt.
βOn your knees,β you say quietly.
He scrambles upright, kneeling between your legs at the edge of the bed, the blindfold still in place, chest heaving, body flushed and sticky with sweat and cum.
Your voice softens as you tilt his chin up.
βLook at you,β you murmur. βAll messy and desperateβ¦ begging just to touch me.β
βYes,β he breathes. βPlease let me. I need you. I need to make you feel good. I missed your taste. I thought about it every night.β
You hum, pleased. βEvery night?β
βEvery night, Mistress.β
You finally remove the blindfold.
Jungkook blinks through the low light, eyes adjusting quickly to find you sitting on the bed in front of him. Nude, glistening, your thighs parted in invitation, your expression cool but undeniably pleased.
His mouth waters instantly.
βShow me,β you whisper. βShow me how much you missed me.β
He doesnβt hesitate.
Jungkook leans in, kisses first. Long, hungry kisses to the inside of your thighs, your hips, the softness of your belly. Itβs worshipful. Apologetic. Eager.
Then his tongue finds you again.
And everything else melts away.
He moans against your pussy, tongue dragging through your folds like heβs starving. Like this is his last meal. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing gently as he buries his face between your legs, nose bumping your clit, mouth licking and sucking with deep, unrelenting focus.
You sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. βThatβs it,β you murmur. βThereβs my good boy.β
The sound he makes is practically a sob.
He doesnβt stop.
Not even when his jaw begins to ache. Not even when his cock twitches back to life, heavy and needy between his legs. All that matters now is you and your pleasure, your satisfaction, your forgiveness.
When you cum, thighs trembling around his head, fingers fisting his hair, your cries like music in his ears, Jungkook moans so loud it vibrates against you.
And still, he doesnβt stop. He doesnβt stop licking even after you come. If anything, your orgasm makes him hungrier.
Your thighs clamp around his head as you ride out the high, trembling with every flick of his tongue, every suck to your clit, every whispered moan from his lips that vibrates right through you.
But then he changes it up, just slightly.
You feel the brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, slow and cautious at first. One hand slips under to support your ass, the other glides up between your folds, slippery with the mess heβs already made of you. His mouth never leaves your pussy, not for a second, as he presses one finger in.
Then another.
You gasp, hips twitching. He crooks them gently, finding your spot almost immediately, tongue still lapping softly at your clit.
βFuck, Jungkookββ you breathe, your head tipping back, a sharp moan spilling from your lips.
βIβm sorry,β he whispers against your pussy, so low itβs more breath than sound. βIβm sorry for being bad, for finishing without permission. I promise Iβll be good, Iβll be so good for youβjust let me make you feel good again, Mistress. Please.β
You grip his hair, yanking slightly as your orgasm builds again, even faster this time with his fingers curling just right, his lips sealing around your clit like he knows what you need before you even ask.
βI need to make it up to you,β he whines, voice tight with emotion. βIβll do anything.β
Your orgasm tears through you like a wave, loud and messy and soaked. You jerk against his mouth, grinding down as your cries echo off the bedroom walls. Jungkook groans, drinking in every second, like the sound of your pleasure is the absolution heβs been begging for.
When you finally start to come down, body trembling and thighs slick, your chest heaving, Jungkook doesnβt retreat. He lifts his head slowly, mouth and chin wet with you, eyes wild with devotion and need.
And then you feel it.
His cock, thick and hard like velvet wrapped steel, nudging against your pussy.
Heβs rocking into you gently, barely restrained, the tip of his cock bumping your clit with every roll of his hips. Just enough friction to make you moan. Just enough to torture him.
βI need you,β he pleads, lips brushing your inner thigh. βPlease, Mistress. Please let me inside. Let me make you feel goodβlet me show you Iβm still yours. That I never stopped being yours.β
Your silence nearly undoes him.
He keeps going anyway.
βPleaseβ¦ Pleaseβ¦ Iβll beg for the rest of my life if I have to,β he says, voice cracking. βI need to feel you around meβI need to feel you.β
You wait until heβs on the edge of unraveling, his cock glazed in your slick, his body shaking with how badly he wants it.
Thenβ
βYou may.β
Thatβs all you say.
But it shatters something inside him.
Jungkook growls, fingers curling into the sheets as he lines himself up and sinks in, balls deep in one slow, shaking thrust.
βOh my fucking god,β he gasps, body folding over yours, chest trembling, mouth slack. βSo warmβ¦ so tightβ¦ I missed thisβI missed you.β
His restraint breaks.
He starts to move, fucking you like a man possessed. Each thrust is deep, deliberate, full of that intoxicating blend of apology and addiction. He ruts into you with abandon, pressing kisses to your face, your throat, your breasts, your mouth, mumbling filth and praise between gasps.
βSo goodβ¦ so perfectβ¦ my goddessβ¦ my everythingβ¦β
You clench around him and he shudders, hips stuttering as your nails drag down his back.
βIβll never cum without permission again,β he groans. βIβll be the best boy, I swear. Just donβt stop. Please donβt stop needing me.β
Your reply is a moan, breathless and broken, and Jungkook takes it as gospel.
He keeps going until youβre shaking again, the coil tightening in your gut again. And this time, when you come, his name is the only thing on your lips.
β
You roll him gently off of you and onto his back, taking care not to jostle him too quickly. His breath catches. Still shaky, still caught somewhere between release and overwhelm, and you straddle his lap with slow intention, your thighs settling to either side of his warm, trembling body.
Your palms cup his face, thumbs brushing away the damp sheen across his cheeks and brow. His skin is flushed, pink with effort and emotion, eyes shut tight like heβs trying to trap something inside.
βKoo,β you whisper, voice low and laced with concern. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his forehead. βBaby. Look at me.β
His lashes flutter. His eyes open.
And the moment they meet yours, something inside him breaks open.
Not violently, thereβs no sob, no collapse, but a gentle crumbling. Like a final wall finally lowering. Like something tender and fragile unfolding after being kept hidden for too long.
βIβm okay,β he croaks, though his voice trembles. βI justβ¦ youβre here. Iβm here. No more counting days. No more waiting. No more sleeping on a thin mattress thinking about you until I pass out.β
You nod slowly, a lump swelling in your throat as you lower your forehead to his. Your fingers slip into his sweaty hair, stroking through the strands as your nose brushes his.
βIβm so happy youβre home,β you murmur, lips brushing against his as you speak. βSo happy youβre safe. That I can touch youβ¦ hold you. Hear you breathe beside me.β
He gives a small, watery laugh. βYou were always the only thing that felt real. Everything else was just noise. I kept thinking if I just made it through one more weekβ¦ one more dayβ¦ Iβd get to feel this again.β
Your lips find his. Your mouths molding together like theyβd been waiting for this exact fit all along.
And then, without a word, he guides himself back inside you.
Thereβs no rush, no power play, no teasing or edge of dominance. Just the slow, aching stretch of being joined again as he gasps quietly beneath you and your fingers clutch at his shoulders like youβll float away without the anchor of his body.
You both moan in tandem, foreheads still pressed together. He holds you close, palms cradling your hips, his thumbs tracing the softness of your skin with a kind of awestruck gentleness that makes your chest squeeze tight.
You move together slowly. Naturally. The pace isnβt dictated by pleasure, but by need. By the quiet, shared desire to savor this moment.
His hands drift upward, one settling at the curve of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as if to keep you from vanishing.
Youβre both so close itβs hard to tell whose breath is whose. Whose heartbeat thunders louder. Your moans mix into the same air. Your warmth curls around him like a prayer answered.
βI love you,β he breathes suddenly, like the words slipped from his chest without permission.
Your hands tighten in his hair, your hips grinding down, your body trembling around him.
βCum for me,β you whisper, voice hoarse with love. βLet go, baby. Iβve got you.β
He sobs as he comes. Quiet, strangled, drawn from someplace deep and private. The kind of release that feels like surrender. The kind of release that feels like home.
You follow not long after, the warmth of him inside you and the raw emotion in his eyes unraveling you in the most beautiful way. Your body pulses around him, and for a moment, the two of you just hold each other.
And when the world returns in slow focus, the sound of your shared breaths, the heat between your bodies, the tremor in his hands as he runs them along your waist, you know nothing else has ever felt more right.
β
You both stay still for a long time, hearts hammering, limbs tangled. The heat between your bodies slowly cools into something gentle, something quiet. Itβs not awkward or heavy. Itβs peace. Relief. A long held breath finally exhaled.
Eventually, you run your fingers down his spine, murmuring, βCome on, baby. Letβs shower.β
Jungkook makes a small sound, something halfway between a hum and a pout, before nodding. βOkay.β
He moves slowly, almost reluctantly, as you guide him into the bathroom.
The soft light of the sconces glows against the marble tile and fogs the mirror as you turn on the water. Jungkook stands behind you, hands ghosting your hips as he watches the steam rise. You glance at him in the mirror and smile, then reach back and lace your fingers through his.
When the water is warm enough, you both step in.
You guide him under the stream first, letting it cascade over his hair and shoulders, rinsing away the sweat and salt of everything you just shared.
Despite being the one who served eighteen long months, who grew broader and more powerful in your absence, Jungkook melts into you like heβs the one being protected. He bends down so his forehead tucks into the curve of your neck. His arms encircle your waist. And he doesnβt let go.
You let the water soak your hair and his, then reach for the shampoo. He stays still as you lather your hands and thread your fingers into his dark, wet strands. His breath hitches, chest rising and falling in slow rhythm as your nails lightly scratch his scalp. You massage him gently, murmuring as you work.
βSo good, baby. Youβve been so, so good for me. Even when you were bad.β
Jungkook exhales a soft whimper, burying his face deeper into your skin.
βYou followed every command,β you whisper against his ear. βTook everything I gave you. Didnβt stop once, even when it got hard.β
He clings to you tighter.
βAnd you came home to me.β You tilt his head back and rinse the suds away. βYou made it back. Iβm so proud of you.β
Jungkook sniffles but says nothing, letting the praise settle deep in his bones as you move to clean the rest of him. He stands obedient and still, but every time you lean in to scrub his chest or run the washcloth down his thighs, his hands find some part of you to holdβyour hip, your lower back, your shoulder. As if to anchor himself. As if to remind his body youβre real.
You wash yourself quickly once heβs done, and when you shut off the water, Jungkook instantly reaches for the towel and wraps you in it before grabbing one for himself.
You dry off together in the quiet, exchanging soft touches and even softer smiles. And when youβre both finished, he swoops you into his arms with no warning, bridal style, like itβs the most natural thing in the world.
You laugh against his chest, draping your arms around his neck. βWhat are you doing?β
βCarrying my entire world to bed,β he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nuzzle into him, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment. βI missed you so much.β
βI know,β he whispers. βI missed you more.β
He carries you to bed and lays you down carefully, pulling the thick comforter up over you both before sliding in beside you. His arms wrap around you immediately, his body curling behind yours like he canβt stand to let there be any space between you. One of his legs hooks over yours. One arm slips under your neck, the other drapes over your waist.
You both lie like that, heartbeats slowly syncing, breaths easing into a shared rhythm.
βAre you really here?β he asks quietly, voice gravelly with exhaustion. βThis isnβtβ¦ a dream?β
You reach back and cup his cheek, guiding his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. βIβm here. Youβre here. Weβre okay.β
His grip on you tightens. βI never want to leave again.β
βYou wonβt have to,β you promise. βNo more bases. No more night shifts. No more rationed phone calls.β
βJust us,β he breathes. βJust us.β
You nod and kiss him again.
βI love you,β he murmurs, the words feather light against your skin. βSo much.β
βI love you, too.β
And then, finally, your eyes slip closed.
Jungkookβs breath warms the back of your neck. His thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip. And as the quiet of the room wraps around you, you fall asleep in his armsβsafe, sated, and whole.
just wanted to say the color palette and setting i envisioned when reading nobody needs to know was EXACTLY that of stick with you mv like when i watched it the other day i immediately thought of your fic LOL π€π€
Monthly brunches with your little group of friends were never dull. You actually looked forward to them the most whenever lifeβs schedule grew tedious, and work exhausted you to no end.
Although not this time around, with the guy you've been dating for a couple of months now.
Choi Soobin.
He was kind, gentle, and up front with you. Caring in a way you could never fully comprehend, a sincere lover, and certainly a pleasant view for anyone who had eyes.
You would definitely say he made life more colorful, and of course, an immense part of the discussion at monthly brunches.
Various topics would dance around the table, only meeting their end when the waiter returned with the foodβbut once plates were partially empty and bellies half full, the conversation rekindled.
From busy morning traffic to bothersome colleagues, to the inevitable sexcapades you all rounded the table, narrating to one another.
So once the group got to your particular situation, an entire index of questions came hurling at you, desperate to scratch whatever strange, kinky itch they all secretly shared.
βI mean, he just seems too nice,β One of your friends shrugged. β How could you blame us for thinking heβs more on the vanilla side?β
βUh, uh. Itβs the nice ones that scare me,β Another friend muffled, covering her mouth as she swallowed another bite of French toast. βTheyβre cute but get all frisky once they've got you pinned.β
You were fairly private about your sex life and the activities you and Soobin enjoyed.
Not because you didnβt want to tell them, but you did feel a bit self-conscious about being seen differently. You loved your friends, no doubt, but just the topic of toe fetishes made them lose their appetites. So, you continued to play it safe.
βNo, she's right.β You let out a faint laugh, putting down your now-empty cup of mocha. βHe can be pretty basic at times.β
βTold you,β The first friend teased, clearly proud of her speculations, while the rest of the group simply rolled their eyes.
βThat manβs too sweet. Heβs like made of sugar.β
You shifted in your seat, reaching into your purse for your favored pack of Marlboro Reds. Internally, you prayed your smile was sellable enough for them to move on. βTotally.β
Little did they know.
βββ Β· Β·
Earlier that morning, a shirtless Soobin had just finished his morning ritual, placing his toothbrush back in its holder.
You were nowhere to be found when he stirred awake. Reaching over to hold you, there was nothing but pillows and a cold blanket. But it didnβt take long to realize exactly where you were.
He left the bathroom and rounded the corner, hearing the whistle of the kettle he had put on the stove minutes ago. Upon entering the kitchen, he paused, sensing you nearbyβthe air veiled in your soft essence.
Familiar with the scent, he knew it was the body wash you used during early-morning showers. His eyes fluttered shut, completely enamored by it.
Your wet hair. The calm little droplets slowly cascaded down your neck until they seeped into the shirtβs fabric.
His shirt.
He knew you had it on cause you wore it to bed the night before, just inches above your knees as your legs perched up by the windowβyour attention lost in some chapter of a book.
God, just the thought of seeing you like that. He took a deep breath, feeling his dick twitch. He needed to hurry.
Impatient now, he opened a nearby cupboard in search of a mug, his other hand turning off the stove. Then he poured the nearly-boiled water, grabbed two packets of chamomile tea, and added honey.
He stirred only three teaspoons, just the way you liked it, and made his way to you.
A few careful steps later, and there you were, exactly as he had envisioned, in your usual spot during a quiet sunrise. He felt all oxygen leave his lungs, frozen in the doorway as he watched the sunβs rays shine on your skin.
How otherworldly.
He nearly jolted when your voice struck his ears.
βAre you on my time or am I on yours?β You urged more like an order, not even sparing him a glance.
He rushed over, still cautious of your tea, handed it to you, and straightened up beside you.
βMy cigarettes?β
Soobin didnβt hesitate to pull them out, already in his sweats pocket. You gladly took them and placed them on the windowsill.
βGood. On all fours.β You commanded. Almost faster than you said it, he complied, kneeling on the wood, as he stared at the floor.
βI trained you well, I see," Smirking, you flipped to another page.
βMy good boy.β
The man let out a labored breath, though he wasnβt sure if it was because of the sweetness laced in your tone or what he was preparing himself for. Probably both.
He sat in eager silence, pressing his palms to the floor harder, as you took a small sip of your tea. You hissed, letting out a chuckle from the hot liquid burning the tip of your tongue. Perfect temperature.
βJust the perfect little mutt for me.β You turned to him, finally, and pressed the scorching drink on his back.
Instantly, Soobin jerked forward, whimpering as the mugβs rim hit his skin. In consequence, some tea tipped onto him, forcing out a pained moan.
βOh no..β You cooed, returning to your book. βAre you gonna drop my tea, Binnie?β
βShit...β He quickly straightened his back, biting back the whimpers threatening to escape. βN-no, I wonβt, Miss.β
He felt his cock pulse from the feeling, mixing between pain and pleasure every time he shook. Not to mention you. So cold towards him as he poured into you.
Call him a lovesick fuck, but it made him fuzzy inside, wanting nothing but to feel that warmth again, and you gave it to him.
You taking this so seriously, despite being hesitant at first, meant so much. Like you actually cared about making him feel good. Though in a rather cruel way.
He wanted to earn your love. Your rewards, your kisses, your beautiful smile when he did the right thing. He craved it all.
βIβhah! I promise I wonβt, Miss.β Soobin fought his pathetic moans from escaping him, but that quickly faltered when you drove the cup to a different spot, urging it into the flesh.
He gasped, stunned by how good it burned. He could feel himself leaking, precum staining his pants. βYes! Please...β
You let out a low chuckle, staring in awe as he took everything you gave him, getting off on the adrenaline yourself.Β
βPlease, what Binnie?β
Then he fixed his gaze towards you, making you inhale a sharp breath. You met his teary eyes and quivering form, struggling to get the words out.
βPlease..k-keep hurting me,β he cried. βWanna burn-ngh! f-for you.β
You felt a heat surging through you, aching between your thighs as he looked away, which was good in your case. Cause oh, did he look so pretty. Though, even better with his mouth on your wet cunt, drinking you up the way you liked.
You wavered, dropping your book beside you, lifted the ceramic off of him, took another sip of tea, and set it aside the window.Β
Reaching over for your Marlboro Reds and lighter, you observed the fresh wounds, pulling a cigarette between your teeth.
βGod, are you fucking pathetic.βΒ
You continued, lighting up and taking a nice drag. βWell, since you asked so nicely.β
You took a few more inhales before gently forcing the end into his shoulder.
Β Another pitiful whine betrayed him, curling his toes as his cock twitched once more. βMhn! Thank you..β
He tried not to tremble, but the bliss was becoming too much. He writhed and bucked his hips against nothing, craving some sort of friction.
βThank you s-so much.. so grateful.β
You repeated the torture, using a few more on him as he unfolded at your feet.
βMy little ashtray,β You purred with a tilt of your head. βThatβs all you are.β
At this point, Soobin was completely hysterical. Tears coursed down his face, and drool dribbled down his jaw while his body shuddered in pleasure. Truly euphoric.
He felt a tightness coiling in his abdomen with every bud that scorched his skin, each one hurting like a bittersweet kiss.
βThink Iβm gonna come,β Soobin pleaded, fighting with whatever will he had left not to fall over.
βPleaseβIβve been so goodβ¦been so good for you.β
You couldnβt lie; his pleas were making you just as restless, wanting so badly to put his pretty mouth to use, but you had more restraint than that. You could go for hours if it meant having him exactly like this.
βOh no, you wonβt, baby.β The words slipped through your lips like venom. βNot until I say, Iβm done with you. Understand?β
His sobs echoed throughout the room, so close to release, yet entirely loyal to you. He adjusted himself, his knees sore against the floor.
βY-yes, I do...β
You couldnβt help but laugh, smiling down at his injured skin.
βThatβs my good boy.β
βββ Β· Β·
βWhat a shame,β You heard one of your friends sigh, finishing up whatever was left of their plate.
Meanwhile, you took another drag of your cigarette, twisting and teasing it through your fingers. You watched the smoke wane into the air, a new gleam in your eyes as you smirked.
your threat is nothing but a fatal invitation to yeonjun; calamitous attraction beckoning him towards you, only a few sane thoughts keeping him from colliding into you. the separation tastes like copper as it cuts into his tongue.
" i want you. " yeonjun confesses, through webs of sincerity he has long abandoned whenever the topic came to you, but not tonight. he was desperate to hold you; feel your softness under his calloused fingers, and deceitful decisions.
"to own me or to love me?" comes your brave reply. yeonjun doesn't speak a word but he stalks towards you. his hooded eyes reflecting his true intention in a long, long time. his hands touch yours, as though they'd melt away from the heat he is emittingβyou've got to admit they do burn.
it's painful, and satisfying to have him. probably not fully, but the way his hands roam from your palms to your forearms to inch you closer to his embraceβyou cannot help but soak in the scathing fire of his love.
βI missed you, mommy,β Soobin purred out, his beady eyes piercing through you as you settled further onto the couch and your sweet boyfriend sat on his knees. Desperate as ever, nestled between your thighs.
βπΎβ
You werenβt new to the distance, especially when hectic schedules caused drifts between you two from time to time, but youβd also be lying if you said you didnβt miss him equally as much.
Nevertheless, it was three days.
For three days, he had to be away from you, and that was all it took for him to lose himself completely. Almost as if his mind was corrupted with the most licentious urges when your absence was felt, with no way to remedy them.
Not returning to past voice messages where your honeyed tone praised his name. Not phone sex or porn. Not even touching himself to your photos was enough.
He longed for the real thing, wanting nothing else.
Needing nothing else.
So, when he got the message youβd come over after work, his body ignited the second you unlocked the doorβalong with all his repressed cravings.
You promised you were just as excited to see him, but couldnβt ignore the exhaustion hanging over you the more you inched into his apartment. You were so tired, you couldnβt even make it past the living room, ending with your limbs sprawled out on the sofa.
However, your sweet, sweet boy inched behind you at every turn, now peering up at you like some hungry pup.
βπΎβ
βMissed you so so much,β he sighed, his lips barely skimming your knee as he traced his fingers down your sides.
He held your calf, fighting the urge to dig his nails into the delicate skin as he planted wet kisses along your knee. Warm and shaky breaths fanned against you, sending goosebumps down your spine.
You didnβt have to say a word; not at all surprised by his clinginess, but deeply piqued by his ravenous demeanor. Clad in fragility.Β
But the drowsiness left you entirely when he clung to one of your legs, pressing his growing bulge against it. βH-he missed you too-ngh! so fucking m-muchβ¦β
His pretty eyes glossed over as he pleaded, hooded lids never fully closing, watching you watch him. He felt himself pulsing at your little reactions, shuddering at every quiet gasp.
He let out a hollow groan as his bruised knees dug further into the carpet, carelessly rocking and bucking his hips.
βFuck.. Itβs been s-so long,β he whimpered, as his chest steadily rose and fell, syncing with yours the more he spurred you on. βMhn! please..β
Soobin drew in sharp breaths, eyes fluttering shut as he kept the fervent pace. He pumped his aching cock against you, not caring about how humiliating he looked. It was your fault he was such a mess, and he wanted to ensure you knew.
You bent down, cupping his face, feeling his fragile frame quiver to the touch. You pressed your thumb to his plush lips, which he readily took in, sucking and lapping around it. You placed it hard on his tongue, prying his mouth open.
βTell me what you want, pretty,β you cooed, painting his cheeks hues of crimson.
βWanna feel good,β he whined, gripping your leg closer as his steady thrust grew more pitiful and coarse. βW-wanna come just like this, mommy.β
The words made you flutter all over, sensing the arousal pooling in your panties. You were nearly as desperate as he was, but at this point, you didnβt care to do anything about it yet, itching to see the extent of his want.
βYeah? Feel that good humping my leg?β Your lips curved into a smirk, releasing his mouth, the warm spit cooling as you smeared it along his cheek. βGonna make a mess in your pants fβme, Binnie?β
He nodded vigorously, reaching a hand to tug on your top. βY-yea, just like this..β
Soobin was overwhelmed, his head buzzing as his whimpers and strained sobs draped you both. He couldnβt control the roll of his hips anymore, feeling the pressure pressing in his abdomen, borderline bringing him over the edge.
βForgot how g-good this feelsβ¦c-can mommy please remind me?β
most days yeonjun is okay with you going about your day and doing what you need to do.. but some days, heβll wake you up before he leaves for work offering you a glass of water. and those are the days you know heβs expecting you to hold your piss until he returns home
heβll send you constant reminders to pick up your water bottle, make sure you stay hydrated, prettyβ¦ oh how he makes it seem so so innocent and caring, but the both of you know exactly why heβs being on top of that today <3
by the time he gets home, youβre seated on the couch, thighs pressed so hard together that youβre unable to move without feeling like youβll release right then and there
did my baby hold for me all day? heβll whisper in your ear, lifting you so that youβre straddled right up against his crotch. he only chuckles as your thighs tighten around his waist. oh she did, hm? good girl, pretty. you know i love it when youβre good.
all you could do was whimper, hands gripping onto his tight shirt as you try your absolute best not to release without permission.
he adjusts you slightly, your thin pajama shorts and panties rubbing against your clit as he does so,, the roughness of his jeans only adding to the pleasurable pressure.
o-oh.. you whine, hiding against his neck. he chuckles and rubs his hands against your waist and down to the curve of your ass.
feel good princess? he asks, intentionally moving your hips to rub against his growing hard on. he canβt help it, youβve been so so good for him afterall~
mmm, you whimper, nails digging into his biceps. p-please.. please junie can i go now?
he stares into your tearful eyes, a small smile forming on his lips as he realizes the extent of your desperation. but his hands donβt relent, if anything they only move your hips faster against his. wanna go? go now, then sweetheart. iβve got you.
your cheeks burn in humiliation. heβs never asked you to go on him before. w-what do you mean..? ah! i.. i canβt just go h-here! junie iβll ruinβ
i donβt care. yeonjun says gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips to shut you up. either you piss right here, right now. or you can try to hold it in while you cum, baby. no matter what, youβll be a pretty fucking mess fβme.
But first! We must thoroughly understand this man's fractured and devastated sense of self. Only then can we truly appreciate how connected he feels to her while finger-banging the soul from her body.
