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@ivyschim
someone on twt said bts are gonna develop a god complex with how many crowds they can attract but i’m not sure if a) princess diana would ever claim to be a deity and b) if god is bunny-shaped, making heart signs, and way too shy to take the microphone
I think I just got catcalled from a truck but I don’t know because I have auditory processing disorder. misogyny 0 autism 1
“You accidentally start your period in the middle of the night next to your boyfriend, who just so happens to be a vampire with a way too sensitive sense of smell.”
Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut
Warnings:Hard Dom & very desperate!Yoongi, sub & whiney!Reader, rough sex, she’s a tease, he shows her his truest face, period sex, lotsa period blood, they kiss with her blood on his lips, messy oral (f.receiving), that’s the closest you will get to Yoongi drinking her blood, and of course it’s nothing but pussy wetting porn, multiple forced orgasms (f.receiving), his demon tongue is making an appearance, squirting, she uses her safeword to get a break and Yoongi gives it to her, then after some bickering and snuggles the fucking continues jsjsj, strength kink, choking (f.receiving), scratching & hair pulling (m.receiving),graphic dirty talk, praise & degradation, they’re both masochists, Yoongi also shows his sadistic side, he calls her slut & brat, but also babygirl & princess, he rails the shit outta her while his face is covered in her blood fjadsf, he has his huge vampire cock out <3, he also talks about pumping her full of his cum, he is so unhinged, I’m telling you this is craziness, this is once again monster fucker smut ehehe, he domdrops but she gives him affection <3, the softest aftercare and both being giggly, this is reason 666 why I want a vampire boyfriend
Wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: This is nothing but pussy madness, I will not apologize. I was in a mood and you guys are gonna bear witness to it. Enjoy this no brain just pussy story 🤪
You have been slumbering peacefully when a harsh shake wakes you.
“No”, you grumble, getting shaken around again mere seconds later.
“___ wake up”, Yoongi’s voice sound stressed.
With a groan, you let him roll you to your back.
“Too sleepy”, you mumble.
“Fucking hell, open your eyes”, he hisses and groans.
At that you open your eyes because Yoongi normally never snaps at you like that. You blink a few times. He turned the nightstand lamp on, giving view to his distressed features.
“What’s wrong?” you ask him.
“I think you should go to the bathroom, princess”, he says, licking his lips.
“Why should I go to the bathroom? You silly kitten, I don’t even have to pee”, you mumble and close your eyes again, settling into the pillow comfortably.
“Go to the bathroom. Please. I can’t bear to be next to you”, Yoongi stresses.
You open your eyes, studying his distressed features.
“I’m confused. What do you mean? Do I stink?”
“On the contrary”, he whispers, croaks even, all while his fingers are digging into your shoulder in a desperate massage.
“You’re so silly”, you mumble, closing your eyes again, “why do you want me to leave when I smell nice?”
“Because you temptatious woman started your period, for fuck’s sake and I currently wanna fucking ruin you”, he hisses the words, not out of anger but pure desperation.
Keep reading
you’re the worst: two
“Why is it so hot to listen to you use big words?” One call to him when he's at work starts an intensely passionate chain reaction. (3.2k)
cw (18+): major warnings only. see mlist for the general scope and please read at your own risk. Phone sex in public, discussions about free use
a/n: This was part of a much larger chapter, but it made more sense to post it separately. It's short, but I hope you can still enjoy it ^^
To say that something has fundamentally shifted in your world is an understatement.
Years you’ve thought about kissing Jungkook, even planned how to do it whenever you were getting shitfaced together, but something has always held you back. At one point, you were convinced it was the disgustingly cliché “but what about the friendship” thing, but that was just a lie. It was a fucking lie! Yes, you’ve stood by him, yes, you’ve given him a listening ear, yes, you would stab a bitch for him, but god knows he hasn’t been filed under just friends for a loooong time now.
Fast forward to present day, not only did you kiss, but you very much fucked, in a very porny fashion for that matter. You came in his mouth. You choked him to climax. Then you’ve waited and waited for the “Hey, sorry, I was bonkers high, let’s forget about it,” text to arrive, but it never did.
And now the whole thing is haunting you.
Three years. Three years he’s denied himself the pleasures of the flesh, and then the way he completely lost himself in you… He just walked right into it. He didn’t care that you were fucking out on a street. He didn’t care that there were cops a few feet away. The only thing on his mind was his pleasure, and man did he grab it by the throat. When you randomly space out, you still hear his moans in your ears. When you close your eyes, you still see his face all twisted in sheer ecstasy.
To your infinite misfortune, however, your hot flash-inducing memories aren’t the only souvenirs from that night. Miniature elephants keep multiplying in your head, and they keep tapping on your shoulder with their trunks, reminding you that they need to be addressed at some point in time. Like…
Is this why he wanted to go to a concert? That concert specifically? Was it his way of leaving his porn magazines lying around? Was it supposed to be a test?
As the days pass by without any answers, the next Destressfest approaches fast. It’s your turn to host, but you cannot come up with a single idea for the life of you. You hahaha’d about having sex, but like… How do you do this? Do you invite him to your place? Do you book a hotel room? Do you go to fucking Vegas? What do you even do when you get together? Do you jump right into it? Do you assume a persona again? Does he have other expectations now? He did say “This is progressively gonna get worse,” but what does that even mean?!! What does he actually like? Should you talk to him? What do you even say?
So hey, I need a list of everything that makes you cum really hard…
IS THAT EVEN AN APPROPRIATE QUESTION, LIKE HOW ARE YOU GONNA WORD THIS?!
Heaving an exasperated sigh, you shoot him a text.
To: HAHA JK (unless? 👀 ) text me when ur free
And within ten seconds, your phone rings.
“I said text,” you answer the call.
“You keep insisting on that, knowing goddamn well how much I can’t stand it. If you wanna talk, we fucking talk,” he spits into the receiver. “I’m not corresponding in the 21st century.”
“Geez, way to bite my head off,” you respond, taking significant offense at his opening statements. “If you lost a case, go take it out on your associates.”
“Sorry, I’m a bit ant— WHAT DO YOU MEAN IF I LOST A CASE, WATCH IT!!!” he roars, not even presenting his full remorse.
“As much as I looove being your punching bag,” you jeer with a disgustingly sweet smile, “if you’re not available right now, we can just talk lat—”
“I called you, didn’t I?” he interjects. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, nothing like that, just…” you take a brief pause, already struggling right at the introduction. “Thoughts were being thunk, and it wasn’t doing me any good to assume, so…”
“What’s up?”
“Do you think it’s hotter to fuck outdoors?”
The silence drags on for so long that you think the line has cut off. You check the screen, but his name is still there, and the call timer is still elapsing.
“Hello?”
“Where’d that come from all of a sudden?” he finally graces your ear with his voice.
“Just answer the question.”
“I mean, like…” he begins, and you hear some movement, unable to tell exactly what it is. “It’s more about how permissible the location is for conduct rather than the existence of concrete.”
“Why are you being weird?” you contort your face at his unnecessarily Legalese answer. “Are there people around you or something?”
“Company exists, yes. I’m at a lunch meeting.”
“I ASKED you if you were available, oh my GOD, I’m literally calling for something not safe for WORK!” you scream into the receiver. “I’m not on speakerphone, am I? I swear to fucking GOD, I’ll rip your head off!”
“No, and you just proved my point,” he responds with a voice so content you can practically see him smirking to himself. “Not permissible for conduct.”
Oh… So he… likes it when he’s… unavailable?
You wonder if you should book a therapy session for being tickled by the idea so much.
“And people don’t care that you’re having a conversation of explicit nature right now?” you ask, getting more comfortable on your couch.
“The records are sealed. My argument is presented non-aggressively.”
“So they can’t tell,” you nod. “What if I start moaning?”
“There is no access to the source.”
“How so?”
“Low volume of evidence due to means of delivery,” he emphatically replies.
“Got earphones on?”
“Yes.”
“So you could be watching porn right now, and they still wouldn’t be able to tell.”
“No leaks on my watch.”
With every sentence he utters, you’re getting more and more excited. Instead of ending the call, he seems to be goading you into continuing, and unfortunately for you, it works. The idea of him getting flustered as hell in the middle of a meeting while listening to your voice, sweating with a raging hard on, even cumming untouched if you go hard enough, all of it sounds so damn delicious that you’re soaking between your legs.
“Have you ever had phone sex in public, Jungkook?” you dip your hand inside your pants.
Maybe it’s because you’ve known him for so long, but even though silence follows your question, you can hear the smile in it. He is enjoying this. Oh, he’s so enjoying this, and if he could say it, you would hear a “Bitch…” from him like he says every time you get him in some capacity.
“No,” he responds, his voice dropping half an octave lower.
“I keep thinking about our little alley action,” you heave a relaxed sigh, closing your eyes as you caress your pussy. “I haven’t been able to stay dry since that night.”
“The sentiment is mutual.”
“Am I getting you horny?”
“There is a surplus on my end regarding the subject matter.”
“God, why is it so hot to listen to you use big words?” you lace your words with breathy moans, increasing the pressure on your fingertips. “Can I come to one of your trials and finger myself to your defense?”
You hear something loudly crack on the other end of the line, and the sound is so crisp that it makes your ear itch.
“No, it’s fine, I have a very tight grip. I can get another pen. Excuse me,” he addresses someone in an unusually wholesome voice. You hear a chair being dragged, signalling you he’s on the move. “That kinda conduct is punishable by law. I can’t get you out of it.”
“Then don’t get me out of it,” you smile with infinite contentment. “Get yourself in and rail me flat during conjugal visits.”
“Keep going,” he requests, but his voice comes out a bit muffled, and you hear some sort of whirring in the background.
“I’d be a literal caged animal, you know. Pent up as hell, trying to remember what your cock feels like inside me,” you speak very very slowly, but your hand moves faster. “If you don’t show up soon, I will start fucking all the guards.”
There is some sort of movement on the other end, but he doesn’t speak. Maybe he’s looking for a place to lock himself in and get off. You can see the image actually. Jungkook frantically pacing around, trying to hide an erection, yet still refusing to hang up the phone… Then a certain detail from your previous encounter pops into your mind.
“But you’re into that, aren’t you? You’d like that better,” you slip two fingers inside, lazily fucking yourself. “When you finally come see me, I’d be all creamed for you. Fully used. Cock spent. Dripping.”
You don’t care that he doesn’t talk back. You narrate the details of every shameless picture that appears behind your eyelids, knowing damn well you’re gonna die of shame remembering it all when you’re “sober”. You talk and talk and talk, teasing yourself so much that you’re dripping all the way to your ass.
And since you can’t have nice things, the moment gets ruined when the doorbell rings.
“Hang on a second,” you put him on hold and fix yourself to a socially acceptable degree. When you open the door, however, you’re so aghast that your voice comes out as a borderline scream.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” you look at Jungkook in sheer disbelief. “Did you… run twelve floors?”
“You know I respect you, right?” he asks, panting heavily, one hand pressed on the doorframe.
“Uh… yeah?” you respond, brows rightfully furrowed.
“Good,” he takes a deep breath and straightens up, his eyes turning a concerning shade of deep crimson. “Because in a few seconds it’s gonna look like I absolutely don’t.”
He barges in and slams the door behind him, harshly pulling you into a kiss. He knows your place like the back of his hand; he has no trouble guiding you to your bedroom as you rip each other’s clothes off in the hallway. When your back hits the mattress, he finally stops to let you breathe a while, and that’s when you open your eyes. You kinda wish you didn’t because you were SO NOT ready to see him in his full glory on such short notice.
Jungkook. In your bed. Naked.
In broad daylight!!!
“The fuck are you doing getting me horny as hell in a partner’s meeting, huh?” he utters, quietly enraged, and slowly spreads your legs apart.
“You could’ve just hung up,” you smirk at him with infuriating smugness. “Why didn’t you?”
“And give up listening to you be an absolute whore for me? I’ve never been this turned on in my goddamn life.” He hisses in contentment as he brushes his thumb on your sodden folds. “Look at this, you’re wet as fuck…”
“Not so bad yourself,” you lick your lips as you stare at his mouthwatering girth.
“Hmm, let’s see how long it’ll take for me to stretch you,” he aligns his flushed cock with your entrance. “I give it like five seconds.”
“GOD, YES!!!”
If anybody asked you how you like it in bed, you wouldn’t necessarily declare a preference, but Jungkook crashlands on you like that, and it makes you wanna bark, “Hard.” Getting entirely fucked senseless. Bite marks. Back scratches. Hair pulls. A few spanks here and there. This man makes you feel some type of way that is embarrassing to discover about yourself, but at the same time you wanna see more. So much more of him. You wanna know what makes him go rabid. What makes his toes curl really hard. What gets him weak in the knees. Everything.
Everything.
“Thought about you at that meeting. Right across me. Playing with yourself, talking shit to me, driving me up a fucking wall,” he punctuates his words with a sharper thrust. “Then I snap and bend you over. They all watch how I discipline you.”
“Do they take turns on me, too?”
Your words come as such a shock that Jungkook looks at you with eyes as wide as saucers, seemingly trying to remember what words are. Never in a million years would he guess one day he’d hear these words stacked in this order coming from your lips. Those beautiful lips. That he wants to kiss for hours. Fuck for hours. Have it wrapped around his cock for hours.
He’s gonna lose it. He’s gonna fucking lose it because of you one of these days.
“Tell me,” he slows down just a tinge, thrusting deeper. “Tell me what they are doing.”
“All my holes are stuffed,” you start painting him a word picture, clinging to his shoulders. “Cocks in my hands. I’m getting licked everywhere. My clit, my nipples, my toes, my fingers… They cover me in cum for you.”
“Hhhaaa don’t… Don’t stop…”
“It drips. It drips from my throbbing cunt. It drips from the corner of my mouth.”
“You look beautiful. So… fucking… beautiful… GOD!” he groans, diving straight into your lips and stealing a few bites. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I’m almost there.”
“They make me cum. They make me squirt over and over again, but none of this is to make me feel good. It’s to embarrass me. To fucking bully me. You know why?”
“W–Why?”
You hold his face and look into his eyes, crawling with a mixture of lethal lust and desperation, and speak your words right against his lips.
“They know I can’t help it. You just look at me, and I’m gone.”
“FUCKING—!!!!!”
He buries his head in the crook of your neck to suppress his screams of pleasure. You feel that tremor coming from deep inside him right before he erupts. His body convulses over you, precise thrusts waning into an erratic rhythm as he creams your cunt with a hefty load. With each moan he lets out against your skin, you feel rejuvenated. Your hands on his back, you kiss his neck. You kiss his cheek. You kiss his temple. You hold him in your arms until his feet touch the ground, and he finally musters enough strength to move again.
“Fuck, I needed that,” he rolls to his side, breaking into the most fucked out smile as he looks at you. “You’re nasty.”
“Why, thank you,” you chuckle.
You idly remove the damp locks sticking to his forehead for a while, thinking about the impromptu rendezvous that just took place within the span of a lunch break. As you’re going through the instant replay reels of the debauched details in your head, an idea suddenly strikes you.
“I think I have an idea for the next Destressfest,” you say, spacing out a little bit.
“Mm, intrigue me,” Jungkook speaks quietly, his eyes still closed.
“How would you feel about one day of free use?”
He immediately opens them and stares at you with peak seriousness, his lips parted only because he doesn’t have enough strength for his jaw to drop.
“I said intrigue me, not concuss me,” he protests.
“Interested?” you ask with a giggle.
“You can’t go around saying stuff like that so recklessly,” he says with an unreadable expression, though with a slightly concerned voice. “Do you understand what it means?”
“I’m pretty sure I do,” you respond.
“I know you and your friends like saying ‘Complete free use for them’ when you’re thirsting, but pretty sure is not enough here,” he props up on his elbows. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“You make it sound so ominous,” you nervously chuckle.
“Well, it kinda is. It’s you saying, ‘Jesus take the wheel’, and I’m Jesus,” he explains, but with each word he utters, his eyes turn darker and his voice becomes deeper. “If you’re on the receiving end, I say and you do. You’re giving me full permission to do whatever I want with you, and you’re not allowed to say no.”
“What do you mean I’m not allowed to say no?”
“The entire point of free use is unlimited access. You transfer complete ownership of your body to someone else, make yourself available to them whenever they want. It doesn’t happen at your convenience,” he continues his depraved lecture. “Otherwise it just means you wanna do a scene with the guarantee to safeword your way out of it if it becomes too much.”
“What even is the difference?”
“How do I explain this?” he scratches his forehead. “Half the thrill is knowing you can’t get out of it whenever you want. This is a game of control, and you have none. You’re just an object of pleasure.”
Huh…
Well, it’s sort of in the name, but you realize you’ve never really thought about what it might entail before. Sure, it’s a game of control, but it’s also a game of trust, isn’t it? It’s letting him cover your eyes when you’re at the steering wheel and hope his directions will not get you both killed.
It’s… thrilling.
“See?” he smiles at you, somewhat disappointed. “Doesn’t sound that hot anymore, does it?”
“Actually,” you immediately return his serve, “it sounds hotter to me now if you can believe it.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?!” he almost shrieks with surprise.
“I did, but I’m not asking to do it with a complete stranger. That would be a true crime documentary waiting to happen.” You extend your hand and touch his face, gently caressing it with your thumb. “It’s you.”
Jungkook feels like his chest is getting crushed at a junkyard. The implication behind your words is so much more than meets the eye, and he has no idea what he might have possibly done to deserve this honor. Because being worthy of your trust to this extent is an honor. To think that, you’re doing this just to indulge him…
It’s not… just to indulge him, is it?
“You trust me too much,” he holds your hand and kisses your wrist, pulling you closer. “What if I ask you to fuck a stranger?”
“Then I’ll at least know you’ve recently received a full panel of STD tests coming back negative,” you respond with pursed lips.
“What even?” he bursts out laughing.
“You’d never do something without covering your own ass first. You’re way too cautious,” you huff a laugh, then narrow your eyes with suspicion. “Are you trying to talk me out of this by any chance?”
“I’m just trying to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he declares as he lays you on your back and slithers down between your legs. “Once we start, I’m not going to stop just because it’s you.”
“Bring it on, lawyer boy,” you challenge him through a satisfied sigh as his tongue glides on your clit.
Jungkook doesn’t care. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve just called him “lover boy”.
And he finally knows what it feels like to get butterflies in his stomach.
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you’re the worst: one
“It’s not that my body doesn’t react at all; it’s what it reacts to.” The regular appointments you keep with the best damn attorney in the city have nothing to do with pending litigation—you and Jungkook get together once a month to catch up and blow off steam. Your only expectation for tonight is to attend a concert, but as the night progresses, a side of him you’ve never known to exist starts to unravel. And just like that, your long-standing “friendship” starts turning into something too hot to handle. (8.8k)
cw (18+): major warnings only. see mlist for the general scope and please read at your own risk. repressed feelings, sex work roleplay in public, choking (m rec), heavy creampie obsession fetish
Sometimes it feels like the correct word to describe Jeon Jungkook hasn’t entered the language yet. Enigmatic? Charming? Egomaniacal asshole? Whatever you can think of somewhat does the job, but none is quite it.
Maybe that’s why you were immediately drawn to him when you first met all those years ago.
He blurts out all his intrusive thoughts whenever he damn pleases as if he doesn’t have the correct operating system to install a filter on his tongue. You have waited and waited for the big reveal as to why he’s like this, but it has never arrived. Born into a loving family, no underlying tragic trauma, nothing like that. He just loves himself, but like LOVES himself, sometimes to an off-putting degree, and that’s it. If you think about it, it’s quite admirable, actually.
Self-loathing comes a lot easier to most than shaking hands with themselves, let alone full-on loving.
It’s fascinating how stacks of polar opposites can coexist within the same body. The man argues million-dollar cases for a living, but is the most tactless person you’ve ever seen. Drops TMI bombs on the most trivial matters, but is extremely secretive about anything with juicy gossip potential. The socialest butterfly, but has no one to call a “friend”.
Well, except for you.
One would expect this kind of volatility from a confused teenager at the peak of their angst phase, but to think that this is a grown-ass man who is a well-respected attorney makes it even funnier. To this day, he looooves bragging about being the youngest associate that ever made partner at his firm. He has a ginormous set of accolades under his belt, but that one he refuses to let go for some reason. It reminds you of a smug jock opening party conversations with “Have I ever told you how we won the championship game, beautiful?” to impress the girls he wants to bed. And the story somehow gets more dramatic with each retelling.
How would you define Jeon Jungkook? Contradictory? An anomaly? Plain lonely?
If he ever heard that you were occasionally hosting self-debates to come up with an all-encompassing adjective, he would directly address your brain like, “Objection, Your Honor, hearsay. Also get a life.”
He is a charming egomaniacal asshole, but he is also… there. He always has been. No matter what happens in your lives, no matter how swept up you get in work—and frankly not much else—you just know he’s always there. But just knowing isn’t enough sometimes. You feel the need to see him.
Thus the reason you’ve forced Destressfest on him.
It’s exactly what it sounds like—just a promise to meet once a month and do something to destress. No requirements, anything goes. A nice dinner, boxing class, playing pool, slot machines… It’s not like you’re severely derailing his life, but whenever it’s his turn to “host”, he keeps bitching about what a needless idea this is. Every time without exception. Oh, he will need to carve out time just to come up with an idea now when he could be drafting a deposition instead. Oh, he will need to find just the right venue because he is a man of excellent standards and blah and blah and blibbity blah.
Yet for so much bitching, he always crafts unforgettable experiences, and rather than unamused, he looks proud when he sees your reaction.
The only problem is this man doesn’t know how to do normal, so whenever you’re the “guest”, you mentally prepare yourself for something WAYYY over the top, and hope you don’t end up in a) a hospital, b) jail, or c) some remote corner of the world as hostages to warlords.
The last time he said, “Meh, we’re just gonna get pizza”, he had chartered a fucking jet to Rome, so you never know.
Which is why it’s strange that he just wants to go to a concert this time. No world-class act in a huge stadium, no private performance in an obscenely expensive villa, it’s literally a no-name band at a small club downtown. It’s not the expectation of a costly gesture that makes the choice odd; normal just isn’t the way he operates. If he gathered trash from the street and said, “We’re gonna make soap bombs at a public park,” it would be a lot more on brand for him.
Can litigators sue themselves for illicit activity? Like, is that a thing?
“Considering your itinerary for tonight, I am required to do a mental health check,” you lean against the bar counter and tilt your head. “You good, bro?”
“The audacity just because I didn’t take you skydiving,” he tsks. “Rude.”
“Well, at least the crowd is very attractive here tonight, but I thought you said this was a rock concert,” you examine the room, then face him again with increased embarrassment. “So my follow-up questions are, one—we look super out of place with our biker gang-adjacent fits, so what the hell were you thinking? And two—what kinda band plays a damn Michelin restaurant?”
“The show is obviously someplace else,” he deadpans. “We’re just grabbing a few drinks here.”
“Oh… Well, in that case,” you scan the cocktail menu, “I feel like vodka cranberry is a mandatory accessory to the OOTD right now.”
“Well, I think limoncello will be a more refreshing choice, but we can have those after if you want,” he raises his hand to signal someone at the far corner of the bar, and the man promptly arrives with an ice-cold yellow bottle as if he had an epiphany about what Jungkook’s order was going to be.
“The D’Amalfi Supreme you requested, Mr. Jeon,” he pours the drinks with utmost respect. “Enjoy.”
The scandalized gasp you let out thankfully suppresses your originally planned reaction—a roaring “SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP!”—which would be a bit too pedestrian for such an upscale venue.
“Um… Mr. Jeon,” you imitate the bartender, forcing a smile only a raging psychopath would flash. “What are you doing?”
“Ordering drinks?” he states the obvious.
“No, no. No, no, no, no. No. You’re laundering money.” Your smile fades in an instant, and you open hellfire from your eyes, hissing at him through a loud whisper. “That bottle is worth fucking 44 MILLION, man, what the hell is the matter with you?!”
“Now you know why we’re going to a hole-in-the-wall club after this,” he raises his glass with an ultra amused smile. “Cheers, baby.”
Thoroughly aghast, your jaw drops because this kinda money demands a chalant reaction. Yup, he’s lost it. He is going through something he’s not telling you and trying to make up for it with impulse purchases, but his income bracket is so damn high that he doesn’t fucking know what would attract the FBI’s attention!
If you wake up to frozen assets tomorrow, you’re gonna kill him. At least then you won’t feel sorry about jail.
“Relax, I won the defamation case for that bitch of an idol, so the firm came into some goooood money,” he gloats, genuinely expecting a gold star from you. “So what if I wanted to splurge a bit?”
“Then get a goddamn Rolex!” you howl. “Or a girlfriend with a shopping addiction. Still a much cheaper alternative.”
“Why? Don’t I already have you?”
Your heart must be playing hopscotch with the beats, the way it skips so many at once.
You know it doesn’t mean anything; he says shit like this all the time, that charming egomaniacal asshole rizz machine. It’s just that your heart doesn’t understand what nuance is, and your unwavering, bane-of-existence levels stupid crush on one Jeon Jungkook, Esq. has no intention of dying down anytime soon.
You’ve lost count of how many years it’s been by now.
“I meant it as in… Retail therapy is just bootleg dopamine epipen. If you had someone to have regular sex with, you wouldn’t spend a small country’s external debt on fucking limoncello,” you attempt a weak explanation, somehow managing to sound convincingly sassy. “It’s not even scotch, man, come on. You’re better than this.”
“So you’re saying I should get a girlfriend because you won’t have sex with me?”
You’re so flustered, your mind momentarily halts all activity. No banter material all of a sudden. Not one good comeback candidate. You so wish you were in a mockumentary so you could get out of the scene to yell, “DOES HE KNOW HOW WET I AM?!” at the camera.
“I’m kidding,” he breaks into a giggle fit upon your silence, but his tone quickly turns serious as if he’s stating a grim fact. “Though your argument is flawed since it’s based on the assumption that the existence of a girlfriend equals having sex.”
“Thanks, counselor. Now please switch to layman’s terms on the grounds that this ain’t your courtroom,” you deride with a saccharine smile. “And yeah, I figured two plus two would equal four. What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s Catch-69,” he continues seriously. “I allegedly need to be in a committed relationship to have regular sex, but anyone who is sexually active would not go for a guy who doesn’t have sex.”
“Doesn’t hav—? I’m sorry, what?” you knit your brows, leaning in closer to make sure you didn’t go temporarily deaf. “We went to the same college, motherfucker. I know your body count.”
“I didn’t say I don’t know how to have sex,” he corrects. “I just haven’t had any in like three years.”
“THREE YEARS?!”
Well, that did it. The shock is so real that you can’t help that scream, and now the entire dining room is staring at the shrieking batgirl by the bar.
“Goddamn, your jaw didn’t drop this hard when I showed you my tattoo sleeve the first time,” Jungkook turns his gaze to the space between you, face contorted in absolute judgement. “That hole on the floor is at least halfway to China.”
“How the fuck is this even possible?!” you look at him like he has told you the earth is not only flat but also rectangular. “I’ve seen a woman walk into a streetlight because she couldn’t stop staring at you.”
“My dick prefers lips over eyes, baby,” he smiles into his drink.
“Why don’t you say it louder so a lucky listener can have the chance to volunteer as tribute?” you quip. “Which you could use, it feels like.”
“Nah, I’m good,” he purses his lips in sheer disinterest.
Now you’re even more confused. The sex god among mortals has been celibate for three whole years for reasons unknown, and he doesn’t seem the least bit interested in revving the horny engine again. Which makes NO goddamn sense because back in college, during the two weeks you had to share an apartment, you were inadvertently subjected to A LOT OF TMI regarding what this man did with his dick on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, seven days a week.
With seven different people.
“What is this really about? You’re literally the only guy I know who’d refuse getting his soul sucked out of him,” you press further. “Oh, god, wait, it’s not health-related, is it?”
“Would you be sad if it was?” he grins at you.
“DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT!” you punch his arm as hard as you can.
“Niiice jab. Aim lower next time,” he proudly compliments the hit with feedback attached. “I’m healthier than a pure-bred stallion in its prime, don’t worry.”
“Then?”
“The kinda head game that’s up to my standards just can’t be found in the wild anymore,” he nonchalantly shrugs, pushing your annoyance to dangerous heights.
“How many ways can there possibly be to suck dick?”
“Infinity if you’re creative enough,” he proclaims. “Can we drop this now?”
No, you absolutely can’t because you just can’t wrap your head around it, pun fully intended. What does creative enough even mean? You literally try to think of ways that’s beyond putting a dick in your mouth and bobbing your head, but your imagination can’t render anything. Does this mean you are not creative enough? Are you a closeted prude? Should you be offended by this?
Why does it suddenly feel like you are… not good enough?
“That’s like saying there are infinity ways to eat soup,” you continue to pry, now squinting. “So, what, like, is it about what you can use instead of a spoon?”
“Or not using anything at all,” he responds in an unusually deeper voice. “Straight from the bowl. No hands.”
No hands.
Your sponge of an imagination immediately absorbs the words and starts to paint a brand new scene for you in crisp detail.
A cozy room. Maybe even a fireplace. Lights dimmed to a sultry lumen. Jungkook in a suit. Jungkook in slacks and nothing else. You in a dress. You in a torn dress. Tied to a chair. Hands cuffed behind your back. Blindfolded. Jungkook holding his belt. Jungkook holding all control. Jungkook holding your life in a chokehold. Jungkook smearing his precum all over your lips. Jungkook ordering you to open wide. Jungkook fucking your face as hard as he wants. Jungkook drenching you in his cum… Jungkook.
Jungkook.
Jungkook.
Oh… GOD!!!
IS THIS GODFORSAKEN LIMONCELLO 150 PROOF OR SOMETHING?
“Refreshing”, my ass… Not only is it doing a terrible job of keeping you chill, but it seems to fuel the fire that has just broken out on your face. You HOPE the heat is at least contained within your body and Jungkook can’t feel it from where he’s sitting.
“So what if you can’t find it in the wild? You know the red light district exists, right?” you casually comment as if you’re not having the horniest mental breakdown.
“I don’t pay for sex,” he sternly counters.
“Don’t you have like five different porn subscriptions?” you sneer.
“Along with six other streaming platforms, yeah, what’s your point?”
“Fine, smartass, why not hookup apps then?”
“No one really swipes right with the kinda shit I put on my profile,” he heaves a bored sigh. “I mean, if they did, I’d probably have to call the cops to report a raging lunatic at large.”
“Doesn’t that also make you a raging lunatic?”
“Precisely. One is enough.”
“Puh—lease! You so have the pretty privilege,” you snort loudly. “Bitches would swipe right today just to climb your hot ass body even if your bio said ‘There’s a true crime documentary about me on Netflix’.”
“Which is why my avatar picture is a stoic capybara. Showing the goods up front is amateur hour minute one,” he declares matter-of-factly, then annoyingly smirks. “So you think my body is ‘hot ass’, huh?”
“So you are on digital brothels, huh? Which means you are actively searching,” you immediately block the door so the topic wouldn’t even dare to change. “How come you’re not hitting that every lunch break?”
“Why would I do that when I can just get high and rub one out instead?” he scoffs. “Did you know weed makes lunch break feel like three hours?”
“Why are you being so evasive?”
“What do you mean?”
“This. I’m asking a very simple question,” you draw a circle around his stupid gorgeous figure, your voice swelling with your patience running thin fast. “I know you’ve calmed down a lot over the years, which is suspicious as fuck by the way, but just what the hell kinda ‘standards’ do you have that no one in the universe seems to meet them?”
Jungkook’s lips faintly curl as he swirls his drink in his hand. You’re the only person in this world he feels something akin to trust for, yet he could never bring himself to talk about any of this even with you, not that he never came close to on particularly drunk nights. He is immune to strangers getting scandalized now, calling him names, borderline running away screaming as if he put a gun to their heads, but just the thought of you being nauseated by him, being disappointed in him in whatever capacity fucking kills him inside. He can’t afford to lose you. He’s never been able to.
But something about you insisting on squeezing this out of him is doing things to him because god fucking knows he wants you to squeeze a lot more things out. Things that have been forced into dormancy for years. Things he couldn’t say, things he couldn’t feel, things that physically hurt him because of how heavy they have grown inside him. So heavy that sometimes it feels like if you touch him the right way just once, it will induce such an intense release that he will cry with unbearable relief.
Why don’t you squeeze some bodily fluids out of him while you’re at it? Preferably aim it at your ridiculously beautiful face that haunts his every waking minute so he can reach nirvana.
He doesn’t know why he’s getting such a kick out of it; maybe it’s the pregame drinks he’s rolled too fast, but it’s dangerous. It’s so damn dangerous that he can feel the control he always holds in a death grip slipping through his fingers like butter on sizzling iron. There’s a reason he never talks about these things with you because every time you’re around, the angel and the devil on his shoulders start making out heavily out of nowhere instead of giving him any sage advice.
“Maybe it’s better if I just showed you,” he knowingly smiles, then finishes his million-dollar drink in one go and leaves the stool. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for the show.”
When Jungkook said hole-in-the-wall, you didn’t expect an actual hole in the wall. Not only is that literally the name of the venue, but the entrance has also been designed like a cave carved into a brick wall. Once you are admitted inside, your biker gang-adjacent fits suddenly make a lot more sense since no one in the audience wears any color. The closest thing to a pigment is the mid-shades of grayscale, which look like the official color of morals in the room.
Or the lack thereof.
The first notes of the opener blast from the gargantuan speakers, and this already feels less like a concert and more like an orgy lite with background music. The trio on the stage riles up the crowd with a setlist that only gets more and more obscene, faster rhythm, harder kicks, louder screams. With each song, the sweaty bodies surrounding you seem to wrap tighter around each other under the guise of dancing, kissing, touching, damn near fucking with clothes on. Their attempt to hide behind deafening decibels is a complete failure because your ringing ears still pick up moaning around you. You wonder if Jungkook is noticing these people, too, or if this is a violent lust-induced hallucination on your part. Everywhere you turn your head, it’s like you’re looking at what you and Jungkook could be doing right now. Should be doing right now.
You’re about to go insane.
Jungkook moves from standing next to you to behind you, and soon you feel a pair of thick arms wrapped around your waist. The closer you feel his body, the more you want to risk it all. You’re a bit buzzed and slightly high thanks to the heavy smoke in the air—if there’s any chance for you to sneak a kiss, it’s right now. If it backfires, you can always blame your lowered inhibitions like “Haha, I know, right? I don’t know what I was thinking.”
You know exactly what you’re thinking.
You want that wet-dream fuel nest of sin he calls a mouth pressed on your skin. You want it on your lips. You want it on your neck. You want it on your pussy. In some way. You don’t care if it’s a brush, a peck, a kiss, or a throat culture swab performed by his tongue. Anything goes as long as you get to taste him. Once. Just once. Just to see it in 3D if his lips really feel like what you always imagined them to be. To find out if you’ll really cum if he kisses you once. Once. Just once!!!
But Jungkook doesn’t make a move.
You’ve been waiting for a sign, the vaguest allusion to a green light, but it never comes. He is behind you, but there is still this space between you even if it’s maybe only a few inches. You don’t feel his chest on your back. You don’t feel his crotch on your hips. Despite the lowered inhibitions you were banking on, you can’t find it in you to jump the gun. Maybe you’ve spectacularly misread the whole vibe and were indeed seeing things.
Fuck your life if you make the first move.
Before you know it, the band’s short set comes to an end, and after thanking the crowd for their passionate enthusiasm, they disappear backstage. When the lights change, Jungkook moves away, and you can’t think of what to do next. Do you say something? Do you suggest something? Do you ask his hand in marriage?
What?
He doesn’t ask for it, but he does grab your hand and drag you towards the bar for some post-game drinks this time. No million-dollar limoncello, just regular beer. The little lamp on the bar counter illuminates his face just enough to show you how he has magnificently sweated, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he still looks this good while this disheveled.
You’re not gonna attempt a kiss, but he’s still given you some ammunition tonight to open fire.
“So,” you initiate the conversation, hoping your embarrassing thirst isn’t showing that much. “Are you gonna show me yet?”
“Show you what?” he takes a huge sip from his beer.
“The playing dumb thing is getting a bit tiring, just saying,” you press your tongue inside your cheek.
“I’m not playing dumb,” he says, but with a smile so vexing that you get a violent urge to pinch his cheeks.
“I asked you what your unattainable standards were, remember? And you said it’d be better if you just showed me,” you jog his memory.
“I said maybe it’s better, and I didn’t say anything about showing you things tonight,” he responds triumphantly, thinking he has the perfect loophole to refute you.
Oh, you fucking snap.
You grab him by his collar and yank him close, only a single inch away from your face, your eyes seeing nothing but red. It’s like watching yourself from afar—even as you move, you can’t fully grasp what you’re doing.
Meanwhile, Jungkook is so taken aback that he almost loses his balance on the stool he’s perched on.
“Do not treat me like I’m one of your bimbo clients, Jeon, I’m fucking warning you,” you threaten, your jaw clenched so hard that it’s about to break. “Piss me off some more, and I swear to fucking god I’ll tie you to an MRI table with all your piercings still intact.”
Jungkook’s life starts flashing before his eyes.
He gulps, eyes wide open, suddenly breathing way heavier. The little lamp on the bar counter illuminates his face just enough to show you his pupils are dilated so much that it looks like his eyes are actually black. Did you actually manage to scare a man who once had a pet tarantula into a panic fit? Or…?
Or does this mean…?
“S–Sorry, I’m…” you take a step back, raising your voice to banter levels again to shoo the awkwardness away. “You’ve made me really mad, okay?!”
He shakes his head to snap out of it because if he stays in that headspace for five seconds too long, he doesn’t know what will come out of him, either. He closes his eyes, exhales heavily through his nose, and the long-awaited TMI bomb finally makes landfall.
“I have trouble getting hard, and if I do, I can’t sustain it for too long. There, happy?” he confesses, hints of embarrassment still audible through his aggravation.
You look at him blankly, thoroughly unable to process the information you’ve just received. You can’t be sure if you’ve heard correctly because you were totally expecting something utterly radical like, “I’m training to be a monk.”
NOT dick no get big.
“That’s–That’s it?” you keep blinking through your confusion, almost disappointed at how anticlimactic that was. “Having erectile dysfunction was your hush-hush secret?”
“I’d say it’s more of an affectile dysfunction. It’s not that my body doesn’t react at all; it’s what it reacts to,” he offers an unsuccessful alternative explanation, his voice waning into a barely audible volume by the end of it. “Or doesn’t anymore, for that matter.”
“Which is?”
He gives up. You’re not gonna let this go, he knows, and there is only so much verbal account he can give. He told you he would show you, so he will show you. He chugs his drink and slams his glass on the counter.
“Come with me.”
You follow after him with furrowed brows, having absolutely no idea what to expect. Jungkook pushes through the crowd and makes it to the backstage area. The bodyguards flanking the door seem to know him; they greet him with big smiles and friendly hugs. When they open the door, the faded neon blue light hits your retinas first. You cross the threshold and turn right, and that’s when you feel a falling sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your lips part, but not because you’re shocked, per se; your body just doesn’t know how to react to a stimulant this foreign.
You have never seen a real-life orgy before.
There must be about fifteen people inside, and nobody in the room gives a fuck. Everybody acts like this is just standard party decorum, and all they do is drink, eat, and have fun. Well, there are things being eaten here and there, but it feels… unfamiliar. Your mind can’t process a scenario where sex is a social activity.
You turn to Jungkook, and an uneasy feeling settles in your chest seeing him like that, completely devoid of emotion. He seems so used to this—too used to this to the point of jaded, actually—that there isn’t a shred of excitement in his blank eyes. Words can always lie, but the body seldom can; you can’t fake that kind of numbness in front of something like this unless you actually can’t feel anything.
“It wasn’t a transition from 0 to 100; I started at 100,” he divulges in the flattest voice you’ve ever heard him use. “Most of my early twenties were spent in places like this.”
“So… things like this don’t excite you anymore,” you paraphrase. “You don’t find them novel.”
“The first few times were of course memorable. I remember where I was, what I was wearing, even the people in the room, even though it was quite crowded. After some time, it just turned into another Tuesday night,” he reminisces, minus the delight. “When this is your vanilla threshold, the things you crave start becoming—”
“JEON!”
A man that has honey for skin approaches with a big albeit faded as fuck smile. You recognize him as one of the performers, and he wears sunglasses in a room that’s already way too dim. You wonder if he and his entourage were getting a room full of people that horny earlier as an audition method for the raunchfest in progress.
“Long time, no see, man! We miss you around here,” he gives Jungkook a big hug, then lowers his glasses to make direct eye contact with you as he greets you. “Well, hello ther—”
“Paws off, we’re not here for that. Just saying hi before we leave,” Jungkook slaps the man’s hand away, doing a quick introduction. “This is Namjoon.”
“Damn, all about that monogamous life now, are we?” Namjoon knowingly grins, his eyes still on you.
“You could say that,” Jungkook responds.
That’s COMPLETELY false information, yet Jungkook does not correct it. You don’t know what to do with yourself. The fire on your face thing from earlier tonight returns again, and this is the WORST place it can happen. If Jungkook feels it, he will totally get the wrong idea.
The wrong idea being your willingness to participate in group sex right now, not your devastatingly strong feelings for him.
“Actually, so am I,” Namjoon’s sleazy grin unexpectedly melts into the wholesomest dimples. “I’m getting married.”
“FUCK, SERIOUSLY? CONGRA—! Wait…” Jungkook’s elation suddenly crashes into a wall and breaks into rage. “If you’re creeping behind Rina here, I swear to fucking god—”
He points towards the back of the room at who you assume to be his bride, currently getting her pussy eaten by both his bandmates and another girl riding her face. You have looked as a total knee-jerk reaction, but you immediately avert your eyes. Despite being welcomed in here, it still feels like you’re intruding.
“Yeah, we fuck around, but we only love each other,” he lovingly looks at her as if the scene depicts her picking fresh spring flowers. “She’s the one, man.”
“Then I’m very happy for you both,” Jungkook pats his shoulder.
“Which is WHY you guys are obligated to be present for this legendary day we never thought would come,” Namjoon declares with amped up enthusiasm. “Bachelor party in two weeks, ceremony in six. If you wanna bail on the reception, you totally can, but you are required to get me multiple items from the registry.”
“I’ll get you the whole list, just don’t bring me to a family function where I’ll have to converse,” Jungkook grimaces. “Talk to you next week, then?”
“You got it.”
“Congratulations,” you celebrate the groom-to-be, and after politely nodding in acknowledgement, he returns to hosting his guests.
Once you walk out from the back door into the alley, Jungkook lights up a joint and leans against a wall. You smoke in silence for a while, passing the cigarette back and forth. You can’t be sure if you just hallucinated. What even was that? What even was this whole night?
“So um…” you hesitantly begin. “If one wants to… say, surpass a Tuesday night…”
Jungkook looks at you and waits for you to finish your sentence, but you don’t. The faintest smile appears on his lips, and he answers you based on the pretty accurate sophisticated guess he makes.
“They aren’t things found in your average romance book; I can tell you that much,” he puffs out the smoke and hands you the cigarette again.
“Not commenting on the cringe levels, but dark romance books also exist, you know,” you respond before your big inhale.
“Yeah? And what are they about?” he chuckles somewhat derisively. “Missionary while holding hands with the fuckboy CEO?”
“I’ve read one where the main character could only cum when threatened with a gun,” you submit the most apt example you have in your repertoire. “A fake one, of course.”
“WHAT?!”
It seems to be Jungkook’s turn to clutch his pearls now, and you’re the one being weirdly nonchalant. A gun? You read books that have people cumming to guns in them?
Are you fucking HEARING yourself?!
“I’m sorry, were you under the impression that you were the only person in the world who had unconventional fantasies?” you stare at him stoically. “Go on Reddit sometime.”
“You don’t find that… uncomfortable?” he asks with deep creases forming between his brows.
“Why would I? Cum to the thought of sandpaper for all I care,” you shrug. “In my experience, as long as you don’t spring it on someone, anything your partner greenlights goes.”
“In your experience?”
“Why are you acting like I’m citing blasphemies back to back?”
Because you are, and it sends him reeling. What do you mean in your experience? What do you mean why would I? Are you even AWARE what this is doing to him?
Not necessarily the what, but you are aware something is making him short-circuit.
“I’m going to ask you a question, but don’t give me that law school bullshit again. I want a direct, to-the-point answer from you,” you earnestly request. “Are you really not having sex because everything feels too vanilla for you now?”
“It’s part of it,” he replies.
“What did I just say about being dir—?”
“It’s not that easy, okay?!”
Jungkook never raises his voice at you unless it’s in a heated debate context, but this time he does. Because you’re pushing it. You’re pushing it too much. He can’t say it exactly as it is, just why can’t you get it?
Why can’t you just figure it out already?
“Then help me understand it,” you take one step closer. “Whatever you might be into, I’m sure there are like whole ass communities around it. Rule 34, you know.”
He inadvertently bursts out laughing. This is exactly why a part of him hates you. Because you know exactly what to say to make him laugh when he’s in the middle of a full-on spiral. You know exactly what to do to make him forget everything that happened five seconds ago, and he hates you for that. Because hating you is the only way it doesn’t hurt.
Hating you is the only way he can accept there is no chance of you ever waking up together.
“So what is it that makes you step away from it all completely?” you softly ask.
“Just because you’re into something doesn’t mean you want to do it with anyone willing,” he answers, staring at the pebbles on the ground.
“How come?”
“A lot of things are at play. Attraction…” he explains, then pauses before his next item. “Trust.”
“Or,” you emphasize the word, “maybe you’re looking at this all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know that cliché, It’s not what you say, but how you say it?”
“Yeah?”
“Then maybe it’s also not what you do, but how you do it.”
Your high has permeated all corners of your body by now. You feel lighter, but your mind feels weirdly clearer, and you definitely feel more courageous. It was just weed, not speed, yet it still feels like you can do everything, all the time, and achieve great results.
“Maybe you’re dismissing it because it’s so simple,” you put your hands on his chest, then start playing with his collar. “You’re so convinced you can only sate your hunger with complex, expensive dishes with the rarest ingredients that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
“And… w–what would that be?” he stammers.
“Soup,” you whisper into his lips. “But straight from the bowl. No hands.”
You finally press your lips on his, and your entire world gets rocked. You can’t fucking believe you’re kissing Jungkook. The Jeon Jungkook. It doesn’t seem likely that you’ll cum from kissing once, but you do feel the texture of his lips in 3D.
Oh, it’s everything you always imagined it to be.
Bootleg or not, Jungkook feels like he’s been injected with hundreds of adrenaline shots all at once. It’s your lips within his. Your lips that he’s kissing, and he can’t control how rapidly it’s escalating. He feels so good. He feels so high. He feels so thrilled. He remembers this feeling.
It’s lust.
“We… We could have done this inside,” he pants into your mouth when he manages to stop to catch his breath.
“But everyone’s doing it inside. We’re not supposed to do it outside,” you oppose. “Public indecency is against the law, you know.”
Your attention sways towards the main street when you hear a quick siren, and a cop car stops in front of a coffee shop. So many lightbulbs go off in your head that your brain looks like a Christmas tree visible from outer space.
“So is sex trafficking,” you mumble to yourself with a smile growing on your lips as you stare at the officers having coffee, then turn to Jungkook again. “Do you have any cash on you?
“Huh?”
“Don’t think. Just check it.”
He reaches for his wallet and opens it. You pull out a single hundred dollar bill and lean against the wall behind the dumpster. Your whole demeanor changes all of a sudden. You look unimpressed. Bored even.
“Fine, I guess. This buys ten minutes of my time. What do you want?” you look at him with blank eyes, then tap at your wrist impatiently. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”
Mr. I-Can’t-Get-Hard looks so fucking feral, you should call animal control.
He slowly approaches you, trying to regulate his breathing but failing, and checks you out from head to toe. He’s eating you alive with his eyes. He’s licking every corner of your body with his gaze, and you can feel it.
“How many clients did you see before this?” he asks in that unusually deeper voice again.
“I was at a bachelor party,” you smirk at him. “Do the math.”
“Did anyone cum inside?”
“I don’t know, did they?”
He rests one hand on the cold brick wall behind you, and runs the other up your bare thighs excruciatingly slowly. When he hits a warm dead end, he slides your underwear to the side and swipes a finger on your folds. It’s so wet that his eyes flutter close on their own in delight, and he licks his lips just imagining that taste.
“How… many?” he slowly asks again, somewhat threateningly.
“All… of them,” you reply in the same rhythm.
He hooks his fingers to the sides of your underwear, but instead of dragging it down, he rips it off of you completely. The loud sound of tearing makes you gasp. He curls the fabric into a ball and puts it in your mouth.
“Bite on it,” he orders.
So you do.
Eyes glued to yours, he kneels before you, trying to brace himself for what he’s about to witness, knowing damn well he won’t be able to. He has thought about this, dreamed about this, driven himself to the brink of insanity about this for so long that it doesn’t feel real. He spreads your sticky thighs apart with unrushed movements, and it takes every drop of his willpower not to swallow you whole.
Not even his most vivid fantasies compare to the real thing.
The sheer sight of your soaking wet pussy fills his entire mouth with saliva, and he thickly gulps, instinctively wiping the corners of his mouth. Such a feast spread before him, and he can’t decide which course to start his meal with. Maybe just a taste from your swollen clit. Maybe just a few licks from your slick folds. Maybe nothing whatsoever and just tease you to death until you snap and shove his face into your cunt.
All… of them.
Your voice suddenly echoes in his head again, and he buries his tongue into your oozing hole like an intrusive thought.
You immediately grab fistfuls of his hair to keep yourself in place because you are severely weak at the knees. You can’t believe it’s real. Jungkook is actually between your legs, going at it like a starved animal, tongue hard at work with flicks so fast that at this rate, he is going to end you within seconds.
“You told them to use you as a cumdump, didn’t you? You told them to breed your cunt, and you fucking liked it,” he growls into your pussy. “Look how creamy you are, fucking cumslut. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
No one has ever kissed your lips the way Jungkook makes out with your clit. It’s obscenely wet, dangerously vehement, yet the pressure is just right. He is being strangely soft when he wraps his lips around it, gently sucking on it, so damn happy just to be able to cover his chin with your arousal, but when he goes back to your dripping hole, it’s a different story. He slurps with all his might like he’s actually trying to taste a bachelor party’s worth of cum in there. You understand exactly why he wanted to put a silencer on your mouth because the more he moans into your cunt, the harder you scream. You can’t help rolling your hips into him, seeking as much friction as you can possibly get before you go certifiably insane. He sticks his tongue out and flattens it, hands firmly on your ass, and makes you ride his tongue. It’s warm. It’s slippery. It’s addictive, and it feels so fucking good.
“Now you’re gonna cream for me,” he demands. “You’re gonna give me everything.”
He puts one leg on his shoulder and sucks on his fingers, sliding them inside you with eager ease. He hooks his fingers upwards and moves with beguiling care, slow, calculated, alert like he’s searching for something. He must have found it because even though he looks up at you with blank eyes, you can clearly hear the curls on the corner of his lips going, “Oh, it’s over for you now.”
Then he closes his mouth on your clit and starts fingering you so fervently that pressure rapidly builds inside you, albeit in uncharted territory. It’s nowhere near the surface like it always is; it’s charging at you from somewhere too deep, a spot you didn’t even know existed. He beckons. He beckons as he licks your pulse on your clit. He beckons as he hums years’ worth of shameful confessions into your core. He beckons your demise closer when he clings to your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, jarringly contrasting the rawness of his animalistic grunts. Everything that happened tonight, the lemon drinks, the sex playlist, the dancing, the backstage orgy, the grassy high, the ravenous lust he devours you with, everything, everything morphs into a ball of pure fire and scorches your sanity away as he makes you squirt in his mouth.
You can’t tell if you’re falling apart or falling deeper in love.
Without giving you a moment’s respite, Jungkook springs back on his feet, quickly unbuckles his belt, and takes his cock out. You’re fucking drooling at his size, and just imagining that looming stretch makes your pussy throb. You want him. You want him. You’ve never wanted something this much in your life, and now you know how creative you can get. No hands, with hands, sideways, upside down…
Turns out you just needed the right… muse.
“I still got two minutes,” he checks his watch. “Now give me my money’s worth.”
He rams himself into you with such force that you’re seeing stars with every thrust. His face twists with unbearable amounts of pleasure, and he’s trying really hard not to go off the rails. Not yet. Not right now. But you’re making it almost impossible for him. The way your eyes are rolling back, the way your moans come so deep from your throat, the way you cling to him, groping him, scratching him.
He fucking loses it.
“Don’t be gentle,” he urges you as he takes your hand and puts it around his throat. “Go for it, you can’t hurt me. Harder.”
You start closing your fingers around his throat, and the magnitude of his moans suddenly triples. He starts fucking you with afresh fervor like he wants to pass through you, and you get the weirdest thrill out of being trapped between him and the cold wall. He reaches for your makeshift gag out of nowhere and removes it from your mouth, and gives you your final order to end his life.
“Bite my lips.”
You sink your teeth so deep into his flesh that you taste a hint of iron on your tongue, and he cums so hard that you watch his soul leave his body. You instantly backtrack and take his lips within yours as if to soothe him, letting him ride his high for as long as he wants with his forehead pressed against yours. You don’t know how long it takes for him to come back, but even when he calms down, every breath he takes still comes out as a faint moan. With every breath he takes, something swells bigger in your chest.
And your little euphoric bubble loudly pops when a scream approaches closer.
“HEY! WHAT’S GOING ON IN THERE?”
When you turn to the source of the voice, the flashlights aimed at you almost turn both of you blind, and the officers activate your fight or flight mode. Jungkook grabs your hand, and you start booking it, laughing your asses off for who knows how many blocks.
“This is exactly why I don’t pay for sex!” he roars when you finally stop in another alley. “Fucking christ, my life literally flashed before my eyes just now.”
“Relax, will you? This is not in their juris–dick–tion.”
The reaction comes out as quiet wheezes. You’re both so tired that you can’t even laugh anymore. You take a minute to fully recover, now at least sober thanks to the adrenaline jumpstart, then hail a cab to head home.
“Maybe instead of a bunch of activities, we should just have sex from now on,” you suggest, trying to pass it as a super chill remark.
“Yeah, I’ve heard somewhere that it regulates dopamine and whatever, right?” he casually comments. “Not to mention fiscally responsible.”
“I said regular sex; I didn’t say anything about regulate,” you snort. “Your dopamine levels are likely permanently fucked up because of your workaholism.”
“Wanna permanently fuck me up, too?”
HE LITERALLY NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP BECAUSE, YES, YOU VERY MUCH DO!
“Wait, are you…?” he squints. It’s only dawning on him right now that you might not be joking at all. “Are you serious?”
“I mean, yeah… I had a lot of fun tonight,” you answer, but your face starts falling upon his lack of reaction. “Unless… you didn’t. Then we don—”
“I DID! God, I so did, it’s…” he raises his voice in panic. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
How to properly word this? Well, maybe it’s not that bad—you’re the one who reads gun smut after all. But reading is something, doing is something else. What if you think there is something fundamentally wrong with him? What if this damages your perception of him so bad that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? What if this permanently fucks up your friendship instead, IF it hasn’t already, and he will have to drift through this life all by himself again? He can’t imagine a life without you, and nothing is worth taking that risk, but it feels like the window has long closed on the “Never mind” grace period.
When his urges only lived in his fantasies, they weren’t this maddeningly itchy, but he knows what you taste like now.
“Remember what I said at the club?” he fidgets with his fingers. “When I said if this is your vanilla threshold…”
“You didn’t,” you counter. “You said, ‘the things you crave start becoming—’ then got interrupted by that dimpled Squirtle.”
“That’s Joon’s actual nickname, you know. Rina gave it to him after their squirtathon,” Jungkook shares with a super straight face, making you giggle.
“Then complete your sentence right now,” you encourage him. “The things you crave start becoming…?”
He has backed himself into a corner. There is no turning back from this now. If he senses that this is going to massively blow up in his face, he will deploy everything at his disposal to erase this conversation from your mind, this whole night, all of it, and will never ever talk about anything even remotely reminiscent of it. He will forever keep your taste at the back of his palate as the one souvenir from tonight, though.
He takes a few seconds, then finally lets it rip.
“Sicker,” he confesses through a heavy sigh. “This is progressively gonna get worse.”
“Define worse,” you start an impromptu deposition, appealing to his “Objection!”-loving Phoenix Wright side. “Does it involve anything other than consenting adults?
“No.”
“Does it involve coercion of any kind?”
“No.”
“Does it involve anything illegal at all?”
“Except for my dealer whom you call more than I do, no.”
“Does it involve anything that can only be found on the dark web?”
“GOD no, what?!”
“Had to ask. Since you have a particular fascination with loopholes,” you shrug. “The rest is negotiable.”
“So you’re fine with this?”
“Again, go on Reddit sometime,” you advise as a cure for his extreme caution. “If it’s going to benefit my pleasure also, then yes.”
No.
No, you’re bullshitting.
There is no way you meant it. You’re just saying things because you feel bad for him. It will maybe be fine for like three times, and then he’s going to hear the inevitable, “Yeah, listen, I don’t think I can do this”, and then it’s going to be unsalvageably awkward between you.
He has to stress test it.
“In that case, I regret to inform you that once a month is NOT enough,” he firmly declares. “My opening offer is five times a week.”
“Five–Five times?”
“Well, I was actually gonna say every day, but figured your pussy needs some downtime, too.”
“EVERY DAY?!”
“I have three years to catch up on, and you’re surprised I wanna fuck 25/8 now? You’re the one who poked the bear,” he protests. “Fine, I’m willing to negotiate. Four times a week.”
“ONCE IS FINE!” you shriek. “I can’t come up with a production like this four times a week.”
“Three times then.”
“Once.”
“Twice?”
“I said once!”
Jungkook wheezes his lungs out, and it’s such a pleasant sound to your ears that you’re actively thinking of ways to stay mad at him. He has no business being this endeared, but he loves it when you’re ticked. He can’t help it.
And even though he doesn’t want to load too much meaning into it, he does notice you insist on “once” instead of rescinding your offer altogether on the grounds of “This is sus af.”
“What’s so damn funny?!” you snap.
“Granted, it would depend on the agenda, but even once a week is pushing it,” he answers rather seriously. “We can just get together once a month like we always do. Any time you wanna pass up on sex, just say it, and I’ll blow like 100k on some golden hotdog or something instead.”
“Why did you stress me the fuck out then?!”
“I wanted to see if you really knew the difference between caring and caving,” he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You don’t owe me anything just because we’re close.”
You want to keep yelling at him, but something in your chest sizzles all of a sudden. Not only are you not used to him being solemn like this, but also… Of course you don’t owe anything to him, it’s just that… It’s just that you…
Ugh, fucking charming egomaniacal asshole.
“That’s manipulation,” you scorn, a lot more calmly than you intended to.
“I believe the correct term is occupational deformation,” he quips.
“I mean… we can do like twice a month at least,” you purse your lips. “You have three whole years to catch up on after all.”
His lips slightly part in surprise, but the façade only lasts for like two seconds.
“Wow, dick so good you can’t wait to get back on it, huh?” he slowly nods with narrowed eyes, exasperatingly proud of himself. “Or was it my insane pussy eating skills?”
“Oh, fuck you, Jeon!” you groan and punch his arm, a lot lower this time.
He bursts out laughing and pulls you close entirely instinctively. In a momentary lapse of sanity, he has completely forgotten what he is and is not to you. His body seems to have gotten used to your skin so scarily fast that, for a second there, it actually made him think he has the liberty to kiss you whenever he wants. If he didn’t stop himself at the very last minute with a panic-ridden “WHAT AM I DOING?!” who the fuck knows what would follow that?
You, on the other hand, get heart palpitations, butterflies in your stomach, and a headrush all at the same time simply because you’re this close to him.
This motherfucker is going to kill you before you can eat soup with no hands even once.
“I’m dying to,” he quietly speaks into your lips as the cab comes to a halt. “Keep it wet for me until I come to collect.”
thank you for reading! if you've enjoyed this, your reblogs and feedback would motivate me very much to keep going ♡
taglist :: @lovingkoalaface @hainwhatever @eegyo @mimi1097 @kkjagi @ivyschim @jkgivinsleeplessnites @evrtgoes @thelyricistedan-blog @taegiverse7 @m4aimm @j0cgr0c @bjoriis @jjkluver7 @somehowukook @sslaira @nayaheartskth @ushiwakjimatoshiii @moonchildthingss @girgal73 @gimeow @thatgirliehan @user5464632780543 @kmpj9 @girlyminmin03
mono still the best mixtape ever thanks
ooh it's raining time to whip out my emotional support father figure album mono.
i mean shakespeare could never write this
This song....
oh mono the masterpiece you are....... one of my all time fav albums. saved my life honestly.
[no beers in] do you think im ever going to belong somewhere
it's fine i don't even need to be part of social groups or friend groups anyway (giant hole appears in my chest spontaneously) ? what's that
If you take it than I'm gonna give it- Kim Taehyung
synopsis: you and Taehyung used to be fuckbuddies before you started dating his best friend. after he cheated on you, you go to a party to clear your head, only to find yourself in a blunt rotation with no other that Kim Taehyung himself.
pairing: college student!Taehyung x college student!fem.reader
warnings: 18+ only, use of marijuana, use of alchohol, mentions of violence, mentions of cheating, sex under the influence, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, swearing, degrading, creampie, overstimulation, tae yearns a bit there
word count: 4.9k
author's note: in honour of buff Taehyung...... hope you guys enjoy. he goes a lot between being a simp and a dom in this cuz I couldn't decide on just one :). didn't proof read this so it might be a bit messy, sorry for any errors.
dividers by @pixopix
You close your eyes as you inhale the smoke from the blunt, throwing your head back.
The music blasting through the speakers and the voices of people around you were getting muffled by the effect of the substance you were now holding between your fingers. You took a moment to just hold the smoke inside your lungs, the way it was making you forget about your worries and just let you fiddle away into ignorance giving you contentment. As you exhaled, you passed the blunt to the person sitting on your right, slowly getting your head back to its' normal position and opening your eyes, only to be greeted by someone else's staring right back at you. He had been there the entire night, of course, but you were just now acknowledging him, his gaze feeling almost magnetic.
Taehyung and you had been fuckbuddies for a year. Neither of you wanted anything serious, or at least that's what you told eachother. You were in his bed every other night, both of you pleasing eachother in a way only you knew how to. In front of others, you were nothing more than distant acquaintances, only stealing glances to signal each other when no one was paying attention, just to find yourselves in the nearest bathroom stall, your skirt lifted upwards and his pants and boxers pushed down as you gave each other what you needed. That's what you were used to, it had become a given to Taehyung that you were always there for him when he wanted you, no questions asked, no hard feelings involved, no emotional baggage. And the fact that nobody knew about your little arrangement made it all the more thrilling, the constant sneaking around giving you both the excuse to never linger too long on the thought of the rising affection between you. The relationship between you was a turbulent high Taehyung never wanted to get down from. Until it all came crashing down one day, when you started dating his best friend.
Jeon Jungkook.
Taehyung's gaze didn't leave yours as the blunt got passed to him, but you didn't look away too. He lifted it to his lips, slowly wrapping them around the filter, eyes still on you. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising, the muscles on it becoming more visible as it expanded under his white shirt. He then put his lips together, exhaling the smoke straight to your face while never breaking eye contact.
Your mind was so dizzy already that you absentmindedly allowed your eyes to drift– from Taehyung's hair– black and long, pulled back, a few strands falling on his forehead, down to his lips– looking soft and plump, his tongue coming out of his mouth to swipe across the lower one, catching it between his teeth after– as if he had noticed the direction of your stare. You were unable to feel any shame at the moment, your gaze drifting further down to his wide neck, in the middle of it– his adam's apple, slowly bobbing as he took a sip from his drink, a silver chain hanging on it, most of which was hidden under his shirt. The short sleeves were pulled tightly around his biceps- he has obviously been hitting the gym more, the buffness of his chest obvious under the thin material
It was your turn to take a hit. You didn't close your eyes this time. Instead you lifted them back up to meet Taehyung's. You inhaled deeply once again, letting the smoke fill your lungs, your head, your senses. You were disconnected from reality, you probably wouldn't be able to answer if someone asked you what your name was right now, but it felt good. You needed that– to forget about everything.
You and Jungkook had recently broken up after you found out he had cheated on you with a girl from his class. How you found out was funny in the light of current events– Taehyung had posted a story of himself and Jimin at a party, Jungkook and the girl in question caught in a steamy make out session in the background of it. The video was dark and blurry, but you could recognize your boyfriend's tattoos and piercings anywhere. Minutes after, Jungkook's Mercedes was scratched all over and his tires were flat. Every single belonging he had left at your dorm was flying out the window and his number was blocked. Humiliation. That's what you felt knowing everyone had seen that video, so you avoided everyone as much as you could, not wanting to face the shame, the pity on their faces and their careful tone, as if you were a frail piece of glas they were afraid of breaking. Tonight, you wanted to forget all about it. You hadn't seen him or any of his friends since that night. Until now.
As you passed the blunt to the next person, still in a staring competition with Taehyung, it suddenly looked like he briefly tilted his head to the side, signaling you, only to lift himself up from the floor and walk in the direction in which his head had pointed.
You were in a hazy state and decided to follow him, giving little thought to your actions. You briefly saw his large frame enter a room and close the door behind, only for you to open it seconds after and close it again yourself. You were met with the sight of a large bedroom, black walls, and a vanity right across the door. It wasn't your first time here, you had been in here, in this bed many times. You recognized the room instantly– it was Taehyung's, and he was standing there, leaning against said vanity, staring at you cunningly, as if he was able to read you throughts, as if he saw the exact moment you realized and the chain of memories that followed.
You moved your eyes from the large bed, black sheets matching the walls, to the tall man in front of you, then down to where his hands were laid flat– on the vanity table. His gaze didn't leave your face for even a second, noticing the way your eyebrow quivered when you looked down at the furniture piece.
He had you bent over it the last time you were here. He had you dumb and repeating his name over and over again, begging him for mercy.
"Been a while, right?" Taehyung muttered, voice low, as if it came from the depths of his soul. You looked up at his face again, a faint shade of anger visible on it.
"Yes, really." you answered dryly.
"Why did you follow me here?" he asked.
"You called me." you replied.
A breathy chuckle left Taehyung's lips. "So would you follow everyone who calls you into a random room?"
"No."
"Then? Why are you here?" he insisted.
"I don't know, actually." you said to him as you turned around to leave.
"Stay." his firm voice reached your ears, his voice leaving a tingle on tha back of your neck. You turned around on your heels, just to see he was walking closer to you.
"How have you been?" he asked.
"Good."
"No, really. Are you okay? After what happened. I was worried."
You laughed. "Worried? After posting my boyfirend cheating on me for the whole internet to see?" you really didn't feel like playing the whole pity game again, especially with him.
"I wanted you to know." he answered, head dropping to look at his feet, as if he couldn't bear looking straight in your eyes anymore.
"Well, you could've just come to me and told me then. That's just pathetic." you scoffed, turning to the door once again, only to feel a hand wrap around your wrist.
"And would you have believed me? If I was the one who told you?"
"Well, at least I wouldn't have been humiliated in front of everyone, Taehyung." your head was still turned to the door, your attempt at stepping forward being halted by Taehyung's fingers tightening around your wrist.
"I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear telling you. We hadn't talked since you started dating him. I couldn't come to you and I didn't want to be the one to tell you." his voice was now quieter, slightly shaky.
"So you decided posting it was the better option? I really can't with you," you were now turned to him, the anger inside you from the excuses he was making growing enough to make you want to face him once again. "Why don't you just let me get the hell out of here instead of pretending you care about my feelings? Spare yourself the theatrics."
"I wanted to kill him, y/n," his glistening eyes were now on your face again, fingers spasming around your wrist. "I really wanted to kill him when I found out."
"Fuck off with this bullshit, really." you spit out, feeling yourself suddenly get pulled forward, your face now inches away from Taehyung's chest.
Your obstructed view was suddenly cleared, your eyes falling on your reflection in the vanity mirror. And on your right, there was Taehyung, going around your frame to end up directly behind you, his red eyes meeting yours in the mirror.
"You're so high," he stated. "you shouldn't be here by yourself.
"I'm not alone, I'm with Mina, you're just keeping me hostage right now."
Taehyung slowly closed his eyes, head dipping down to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. He stood frozen like this for a few seconds to indulge in the sweet scent of your skin mixed with you perfume. It had been a year since he was close enough to be able to catch the smell.
He then opened his eyes again, right hand coming up to grab the side of your hair to move it behind your shoulder.
"Come on, don't touch me." you felt a familiar tingle go through your body, signaling you that it's probably best for you to be on your way.
However, before you could move, you wrist was caught in Taehyung's big hand again, pulling it to fold your arm snugly behind your back. His eyes didn't leave yours in the mirror, his head dipping down again, lips dangerously close to your ear now.
"I was going to kill him, I swear. I almost gave him a concussion that night." Taehyung confessed in your ear, his voice raspy.
Your eyes widened in shock. You suddenly remembered the bump on Jungkook's head the day after the sorority party- he had told you he hit his head on the counter while setting up the beer kegs. You never questioned it. The realization that hit next was what made your blood freeze. The party and the night Taehyung posted that story– they were three months apart. He had been cheating for three months before you found out.
"T-three... he did it for three months?" you said to yourself, voice now shaky.
I'm so sorry, y/n. I'm so so sorry for everything. I couldn't stand it, I really couldn't stand even looking at him. I don't know why he did it. I wanted to grab him and shake him and scream in his face that he doesn't deserve you, that it should've been me."
Your breath got caught in your throat at Taehyung's words, yet you were still unable to break eye contact. His eyes were now glistening, tears threatening to pool at the corners of his eyes any second now.
"It should've been me, y/n. Why did you choose him? What did he do that I couldn't?" his voice was now whiny, mouth directly next to your ear, every singe breath he took sending shivers down your spine.
"Taehyung-..."
"Did he make you feel better? Could he?" he whined in your ear again.
"I waited for you for a year, Taehyung. To tell me you felt something for me."
Before you had a chance to utter another word, Taehyung pulled you hand even tighter against your back, his lips crashing down on your neck, tongue running against you skin, his teeth pulling on it harshly.
You threw your head back, resting it on his shoulder. The mix of alchohol and weed in your system made you feel everything ten times stronger, every breath, every bite, every lick intensified, making you feel like you could reach the moon. Taehyung lightly pushed you forward, urging you to walk ahead, his lips never leaving your neck, peppering bites and kisses all over it.
He stopped as soon as your front hit the vanity table, both of you now dangerously close to the mirror. Taehyung pushed himself flush against your back, left hand coming up to grab your hair in a pony, pulling your head back and placing a soft peck on your cheek.
"I never knew, y/n. Why didn't you say something?" his voice was now on the verge of breaking.
"I- I was too scared." you muttered, body pushing back into his just to feel whatever friction you could.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked gently. "I won't touch you if you say so."
"N-no, don't stop." you muttered quietly. The need was growing in you, Taehyung's fucked out expression making it hard for you to put an end to what was happening.
He didn't waste another second, letting go of your arm and going straight for the zipper of your dress, pulling it down in one swift motion, the thin straps falling down your shoulders and with that the whole dress pooling at your ankles. You were left in nothing but your black strapless bra and matching panties, now noticing how they were sticking to your core with arousal you had hoped to stay hidden.
Taehyung almost winced at the sight of you so bare in front of him, eyes dropping to your stomach.
"Your belly ring. You changed it." he stated.
"I did. Got tired of the old one."
The previous one you had on had a dangly heart charm on it– it was a gift from Jungkook, one which withouth your knowledge Taehyung had helped pick out. When his friend asked him for a favour, he couldn't say no. He couldn't tell him about you two, so he just swallowed it down pretended to be okay with it.
"I would've ripped it off of you anyway." he spat out as he turned you around to face him, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you to sit on the vanity. His arm let go of your hair, long strands of it now falling all over your shoulders and over your breasts.
Hot lips suddenly crashed on yours, Taheyung's long fingers roaming all over your body, squeezing your butt and pulling you against himself, making you feel the needy buldge that was growing between his legs. You moaned into his mouth from the sensation of his boner rubbing against your needy core, his hand flying up to grab the roots of your hair, angling your head so he could push his tongue even deeper inside your throat. He was going at it like a man starved, your saliva spreading on both of your lips, mixing together. The taste of marijuana and vodka, combined with the smell of Taehyung's cologne was intoxicating you.
He suddenly pulled away from the kiss, making your body lean forward, chasing his warmth. However, when you opened your eyes, he wasn't there anymore. You looked down between your legs to find him on his knees, head now leveled with your soaked panties.
"I've missed her so much." he said under his breath, lips immediatly latching onto your heat, peppering kisses all over your panties, the sensation feeling just short of enough, making you push your hips forward into his mouth.
The feckless movement caused Taehyung to laugh, looking up at you with faded eyes, still red from the joint.
"I'll please you baby, I promise. Just be good." he assured, diving back in to press kisses all over your clothed sex. Your brows were now scrunched in pleasure, your hand flying to his hair and tugging on it.
He then grabbed the hem of your panties and took them off in a single motion, long fingers sinking into your inner thighs to spread your legs apart, baring your glistening pussy in front of his face.
"Hmm, so wet for me." he hummed, tongue sliding from your entrance to your clit, stopping there to circle around it gently.
"Fuck, Tae-," you jolted at the movement, tugging harder on his hair to push his face in to you. "More, please."
He didn't wait for you to ask a second time, lips wrappng around the bundle of nerves and sucking down on it, slender finger pushing on your entrance for a second before flowly dipping into your hole, already sluggish from the arousal. Your walls welcomed him greedily, sucking his finger in as if it was the first time you were being stretched open. Taehyung then pulled his finger out completely, only to push back two inside, moving slow as he waited for you to accommodate to the intrusion.
You threw your head back, his long fingers now knuckle deep inside your wetness, the tips pushing rudely on your g-spot.
"Come on, princess, let me hear you." Taehyung ordered, voice vibrating onto your clit, sending electric signals to all nerve endings in your body before going in to continue abusing your clit.
The movement of his tongue on your bundlemof nerves was getting to your head, your hips starting to rub against his face. His fingers were still deep insde you, curling in to hit your sweet spot again and again. The tightness in your lower stomach was getting more intense by the second, one last rub of Taehyung's tongue against you sending you over the enge, broken moans of his name falling off your lips now, eyes shut in pleasure.
His fingers never stilled inside of you, starting to pump in and ot of you faster, while he was looking at your fucked out expression- brows scrunched and mouth hanging open helplessly, inarticulate sound leaving it, hips trembling on the vanity. The overstimulation caught up with you, eyes shooting open to look at the man between your legs- his fingers were still plungung deep into you while his other arm was squeezing your thigh, keeping your legs open for him. His mouth and chin were soaked with your juices, long tongue coming out of his mouth to lap at them while he stared at your every reaction to his touch.
Your brows scrunched further from the intense pressure you were feeling in your abdomen, your fingers pale from gripping and pulling onto Taehyung's black locks.
"Tae, I ca- fuck, I can't take more." you whimpered.
"You can, baby, come on. I know you can." his hand suddenly left your thigh and went to press on your lower stomach, his fingers once again buried in your pussy to the hilt, curling just at the right angle. A loud moan left your mouth, not being able to handle the intensity anymore, feeling as if you were about to pass out, when suddenly the pressure inside of you snapped.
You felt pleasure rush through your entire being, releasing itself with force. Taehyung pulled his fingers out of you to let your juices shower his face, his mouth now open to catch as much as he can, fingers coming back to your clit briefly to rub on it and make you release even more. That's when you felt wet splashes reach your tummy and thighs, coming back to your senses and opening your eyes, only to see yourself squirting all over the man kneeling beneath you.
"Mhmmm, princess, that's it, give it all to me."
You tried to stop, to move, to close your legs together, but you were too numb to be able to do anything.
"F-fuck, Tae, I can't-," your voice cut off, tears pooling in your eyes.
You felt warmth wrap around you, Taehyung's long arms coming around your body to embrace you, his lips now flush against your forehead, rocking your body side to side to calm you down and bring you back to your senses. You reached your hands up to place them on his chest, fists grabbing handfulls of his shirt, legs wrapping aroud his waist and pushing him more into you. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, tears now falling on your cheeks, slowly feeling yourself come back to it. He slightly pulled away, placing a finger under your chin to lift your head up to look at him. Noticing your tears, his thumb swiftly swiped across your cheeks to wipe them off.
"You okay, baby?" you quiclkly nodded your head, pulling Taehyung down by his neck to kiss his lips again, him quickly melting into your touch. You squeezed your legs around his hips again, pushing his body flush against yours and feeling the hardness under his jeans.
"I want more," you whispered into his mouth, pecking his nose gently. "Yeah? I can't say no to you when you ask like that,"
Taehyung grabbed your hips to lift you off the vanity and turned you around, your back now facing him. You were met with both of your reflections in the mirror once again, your eyes now darker, hair messy and mascara smuged around your eyes. The sound of Taehyung's belt unbuckling reached your ears, hips bucking backwards to meet his, only for his large hand to land on your butt with a slap.
"But I'm not gonna be gentle, and you're gonna take what I give you. Not really in a position to be greedy, hm?" his voice was velvety in your ear, fingers reaching to unclasp your bra, boobs spilling out for both of you to see in the mirror.
You felt Taehyung's cockhead slide through your folds, gathering your juices, before nudging at your entrance for just a second. Before you could realise, he pushed in, stretching you out and burying himself to the hilt with one swift motion. His hands flew to squeeze your breasts, his chest now flush to your back and teeth nibbling on your earlobe.
Scattered whimpers were leaving your mouth at the feeling of his thick cock inside of you, your walls fluttering to try to accomodate the size while the head was pressed flush against your g-spot.
"You're taking it so well. Such a good girl for me." he whispered as his hands kept kneading your boobs, fingers grabbing on your nipples to play with them. He wasn't moving in the slightest, just sitting there with his cock buried deep inside of you, admiring the way you were squirming for more friction in the mirror.
"Taehyung-," you whined, hips once again pressing back into him.
"Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." he said, voice stern.
"Move, please. Fuck me, I need it so bad." he grabbed your right leg, lifting it on top of the vanity table, his other hand going to lgrab your hair again, pulling your head back by the scalp.
That's when he started moving.
He pulled his hips all the way back, leaving only his cockhead inside of you, only to forcefully slam back into you, pushing in every single inch roughly. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, if that was even possible, making your hips jolt forward, pulling away from him. Taehyung hissed and pulled harder at your hair at the motion, his fingers sinking into your hip and pulling you back into him.
"You're not running away from this, baby. You asked for it so you're gonna take it, hm?" the hold he had on you didn't allow you to move, his hips now going into a steady and rough rythm, pulling back just to slam into you again, his dick invading every inch of your pussy, your walls wet with slick welcoming him every single time, swallowing all of him deep to the hilt. You felt wettness pool in the corners of your eyes once again, the friction from Taehyung fucking into you, his hand pulling your hair and the sight of him behind you in the mirror, muscular torso all sweaty, his abs flexing every time he thrusts inside you, his black hair sticking to his forehed, bottom lip locked between his teeth, all the while he was squeezing your hip, hand traveling down to carress your thigh spread out on the vanity table, sink his nails into it and land a nasty slap on your butt cheek.
The haze from the marijuana combined with the nasty sounds you bodies were making and the sight of Taehyung in the mirror, handling you like a toy, slamming into you as if there was no tomorrow, all piled up, tears now streaming down your face, leaving black traces from your mascara.
Taehyung's eyes were now locked on yours in the mirror, his thrusts suddenly getting even more abusive, your body jolting forward everytime he entered you, g-spot being abused again and again by his lenght. His hand let go of your hair to grab at your jaw squeeze it, not letting you look away from his face.
"That's it, cry for me, little slut. Cry for this dick. Who makes you feel this good, hm?" he landed a slap on your face, the speed of his hips now relentless. You were whimpering and moaning uncontrollably, tears falling down your face, barely any make-up left on it at this point.
"You're not cumming if you don't answer," another slap on your cheek followed, making you hiccup, the pace with which he was fucking into you never faltering.
"Y-you, Tae, f-fuck. Only you." you answered, voice breaking at each word, eyes shutting from the uncontrollable pleasure you were receiving, only for another stingy slap against your face to be delivered. "Look at me while I fuck you. I wanna see how you fall apart."
You open your eyes again forcefully, hands grabbing on Taehyung's arms to keep yourself steady.
"Fuck, I missed you so much. I missed this little pussy so much, squeezing me in so good. But you had to go ahead and ruin it, hm? You just had to go and date my best friend, so now I can't have you properly. I can never have you the way I want to. Such a slut. My dick wasn't enough for you, hm? But you come running back to it, following me in here, begging to be fucked. Cry for this cock now, show me how much you missed it."
Taehyung's fingers were now on your clit, rubbing vicious circles and pressing down on it. He felt your walls tighten around him and your body tense, a sign of your high approaching he knew all too well. The angle of his cock inside of you changed once again, hitting your uterus again and again, making you lose control. His fingers let go of your jaw, only for a series of slaps to meet your face- one after another after another. You coulnd't take it anymore, a scream leaving your mouth as you threw your head back onto his shoulder for support. His hand flew over your mouth to silence you, fingers on your clit still rubbing on it, when you collapsed in his arms. Your orgasm took over you violently, vision going white from how intense it hit you, pussy clenching around Taehyung's dick, milking it for all it's worth, walls fluttering around it and your juices leaking down his balls. He kept fucking up into you, letting you ride out your high while he was whispering dirty nothings into your ear, your tears still streaming down your face over his hand, mascara smudged all over it, muffled moans and curses staying locked behind his arm on your mouth.
The sight of you so fucked out, spread open on the vanity table, tits jiggling from the jolts of your body, completeli surrendered to him was Taehyung's last straw. With a few more powerful thrusts, he was spilling deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. His hips were now on a roll, thrusting shallowly inside of you, trying to pump every last drop of cum he could inside of you, claiming you in the only way he could.
You were both standing there, panting, him still deep inside of you, cum now sweeping from your insides and leaking on the floor. Taehyung was placing wet kisses all over your face and neck, hand wiping off you tears and smudged make-up, before going to wrap around your neck and squeeze on it lightly, teeth grazing your ear, lips coming to whisper into it.
"Put your clothes back on now, and keep every single drop of my cum inside of you. I want you to walk around full of me. And next time you want to get fucked, you call me, you understand? Anytime you want to get touched, just call me, nobody else."
᭡୧ Fix your route? Nah, Fuck you right.
᭡୧ synopsis: in which nanami is a longtime divorced man but got a very active sex life. and in which a new, bimbo… and a very much younger neighbor moves in next to his apartment. worst part is, he’s not able to control himself around you. especially when you’re at his door, asking him to fix your wifi late at this hour.
᭡୧ pairing: older!nanami kento x kinda bimbo fem!reader
᭡୧ c. warnings: age gap, heavy sexuál tension, eyefu cking, solo m. mast urbation, nanami is in his 40s and reader is early 20s, belly/tummy bulge, fing ering, did i say heavy se xual tension?, pus sy eating, overstim ulation, squi rting, weak plot/heavy po rn — if there’s more to tag lmk.
nanami kento has always kept his life neat and quiet, the kind of man who folds his shirts the same way every morning and times his coffee exactly seven minutes after the water boils. forty years old, divorced once a long time ago, and now he lives alone in the corner apartment on the fourth floor where the hallway light flickers just enough to remind him he should probably call maintenance but never does.
his sex life is the same as everything else he controls, sparse and deliberate. a few times a year he lets himself download one of those bland apps, meets a woman his age in a hotel bar, fucks her slow and polite in the dark so neither of them has to look too closely at the other.
most nights though it is just his own hand in the shower, quick and efficient, eyes closed while he thinks about nothing at all. he likes it that way. clean. no mess. no complications. until you moved in next door three months ago and ruined every single one of those careful rules without even trying.
you showed up on a rainy tuesday with too many cardboard boxes and a laugh that carried through the thin walls like it belonged there.
early twenties, fresh out of whatever college or job that spat you into this building, always in oversized shirts and tiny sleep shorts that rode up the back of your thighs when you bent over to pick up your mail. nanami noticed you the first time he passed you in the hallway, the way you smiled at him like he was just another neighbor instead of a man who suddenly felt every one of those twenty years between you. he told himself it was nothing. just new noise in a building that had been quiet for years. but then the noise became something else.
the soft thump of your music when you cooked dinner, the way your balcony light stayed on late while you scrolled on your phone, the faint vanilla scent that drifted under his door every time you took out the trash. he started catching himself pausing at the peephole when he heard your keys, hating the way his cock twitched at the mere sound of your footsteps. hating it more when he realized he was hard again in the shower that same night, fist wrapped tight around himself while he pictured those sleep shorts pooled around your ankles.
he tried to ignore it at first. threw himself into longer office hours, came home later, kept the volume on his television higher so he would not hear you humming in the shower through the shared wall. it did not work.
every little thing you did chipped at him. the way you waved from your balcony in the mornings wearing nothing but a thin tank top and no bra, nipples stiff from the cool air. the way you asked him once, all sweet and shy, if he knew how to fix a leaking faucet and stood too close while he worked, soft focused grunts leaving is chest and his rolled-up sleeve. after that night he jerked off twice before he could even get his jeans off, coming so hard he had to brace one hand on the shower tile just to stay upright.
he hated how easily you affected him. hated that a girl barely old enough to rent her own apartment could make a man like him, a man who prided himself on control, feel like some desperate teenager again. his sex life used to be something he managed. now it was just quiet frustration and the occasional guilty stroke while he thought about how small you would look under him, how tight you would feel, how pretty you would sound moaning his name.
then came the router. you knocked on his door at nine-thirty one random night, voice small and embarrassed over the phone first, then in person when he opened up still dressed in his white button-up and black jeans.
nanami stands at your doorway with one hand already in his pocket, the other holding the small toolbox he keeps for these exact random neighbor emergencies all ready, and he tells himself for the tenth time that this is nothing. just a quick fix.
your voice is soft and a little embarrassed over he’s not surprised. “sorry to bother you, nanami-san, but my wifi router just died and i have no idea what i’m doing with these things.” he had sighed, told you he would be right over, and now here he is, hating every single second because the moment you open the door he feels it again. that pull. that stupid, inconvenient heat low in his gut that has been creeping up on him since the day you moved in.
you are wearing your famous oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and tiny sleep shorts that ride up when you shift your weight, bare feet on the hardwood, skin glazed with a thin layer of sweat like you had been lounging on the couch all evening.
you smile at him, grateful and a little shy, and nanami’s jaw tightens. he is forty, a divorced but settled, a man who likes order and quiet and routines that do not include getting half-hard at the sight of his much younger neighbor’s collarbones. yet here he is, eyes dragging down the line of your neck before he forces them back up.
“thank you so much for coming,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. your voice is warm, a little breathy from the relief of not having to deal with it alone. the apartment smells faintly of vanilla and whatever takeout you had for dinner.
nanami nods once, polite as always, and follows you toward the corner where the router sits on a low shelf. he can feel the weight of his own body, the clean but lived-in scent of his white button-up clinging slightly to his skin after a long day, black jeans sitting snug on his hips. he is musty in that grown-man way, soap and faint cologne mixed with the faint trace of office air and the walk over, nothing overpowering but undeniably male. he knows it. he hopes you do not notice how it fills the small space between you.
you hover close while he crouches down to look at the router, your thigh brushing his shoulder as you point at the blinking lights. “it just stopped working out of nowhere. i tried restarting it but…” your words trail off when he glances up.
his eyes catch on the way your t-shirt hangs loose, the soft swell of your tits visible at the neckline, the smooth skin of your legs right there at eye level. he should look away yet nanami does not. instead his gaze lingers, slow and heavy, tracing the curve of your hip, the way the hem of those shorts digs into the flesh of your thigh. he feels his cock twitch in his jeans, thickening against the zipper before he can stop it.
fuck.
he shifts his weight, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only makes the fabric pull tighter.
“let me see,” he mutters, voice lower than he intends, rough around the edges. his fingers work the cables, checking connections, but his mind is not on the router. it is on you. on how you smell like warm skin and faint lotion, on how you keep biting your lip while you watch him, on how easily he could reach out and slide his palm up the back of your thigh.
he has been trying to ignore it for weeks. it takes him back to the way you wave at him from your balcony in the mornings, the sound of your laugh carrying through the thin walls when you are on the phone with friends, the soft thump of your music when you cook.
every little thing has been chipping away at his carefully built restraint. he is older. he should know better. but his body does not care about should.
he stands up slowly, taller than you by a good amount, and when he does his chest brushes your shoulder. you do not step back and the air between you feels thick, charged, and nanami’s eyes drop again, this time to your mouth, then lower to where your nipples have tightened under the thin shirt.
he swallows hard. his cock is fully hard now, pressing insistently against the front of his black jeans, the outline obvious if you were to look down. he turns slightly, pretending to fiddle with the router settings on his phone, but the movement only highlights the bulge.
he can feel the heat of it, the way it throbs when you lean in closer to see what he is doing, your breath ghosting over his forearm.
“is it the cable?” you ask, voice quieter now, like you have noticed the shift too. your eyes flick to his face, then down, then back up, and nanami sees the faint flush creeping up your neck. good. at least he is not suffering alone. he clears his throat, forcing his attention back to the device, but his free hand flexes at his side, knuckles whitening. he wants to touch you. wants to back you against the wall and slide those tiny shorts down your legs, wants to feel how wet you already are because he can smell it, that sweet faint arousal mixing with your usual scent.
his mind supplies the image without permission: you bent over the couch, his cock buried deep while he grips your hips and fucks the whimpers out of you. he exhales sharply through his nose.
“try it now,” he says, stepping back just enough to give you space, but not enough to hide anything. the router lights flicker green. you pull out your phone to test the connection and let out a small happy sound that goes straight to his dick.
“it works! oh my god, thank you, nanami-san.” you turn to him fully, eyes bright, and for a second he lets himself look. really look. at the way your chest rises with each breath, at the bare stretch of thigh, at how your lips part when you realize he is staring.
he does not smile. his expression stays bland, almost stern, but his eyes are dark and hungry, eye-fucking you so openly now that there is no pretending. his cock strains harder against the denim, a small wet spot forming where he is leaking, and he makes no move to hide it.
he is half heartedly relieved you do not notice. your gaze still stuck on your phone screen, lashes fluttering, and when you look back up, you read there is something new in his expression, something needy and waiting to be unleashed.
nanami’s voice comes out rougher than he means. “you should get a better router. this one is outdated.” it is the most neutral thing he can think of, but it does not matter.
the tension is already there, thick and undeniable, wrapping around both of you in the half-unpacked living room. he can feel his pulse in his cock, the heavy ache of it, the way his balls feel tight just from standing this close to you. he wants to hate how easily you affect him.
he does hate it. but he cannot stop the slow drag of his eyes over your body one more time, imagining exactly how you would look spread open on his bed, taking every inch while he tells you how long he has been fighting this.
you shift on your feet, thighs pressing together, and nanami catches the tiny movement. his jaw clenches. he should leave. he should say goodnight and go back to his quiet apartment and jerk off to the memory like he has done more nights than he cares to admit.
your heartbeat picks up its rate, your finger tips sweaty. you feel the air thickening already, noticing the print of your neighbors dick without even looking down.
“so maybe you could stay and i could make you some te–” your proposal is short lived.
“i’ve fixed what you’ve called me to help for. goodnight.” his stern voice catches you off guard, watching him collect and grab the toolbox on the floor that was forgotten seconds ago. you try to say something but stay frozen when he pushes past you, his neck veins slightly showing on his skin.
nanami strides out fast. because right now, with his cock hard and obvious and his control fraying at the edges, he is not sure he has the strength to stay in the same room with you.
and so he leaves you standing in the middle of your apartment with your wifi fixed and a pile of notifications ‘ding-ing’ every seconds.
+
a week drags by in thick, unspoken tension that sits heavy between the thin apartment walls like smoke that refuses to clear.
nanami wakes each morning with the same stern resolution burning behind his eyes: keep the distance, lock it down, pretend the night you called him over for the router never happened. he leaves for the office before the sun fully rises, comes home long after the hallway lights have dimmed, and when he passes your door he keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed floorboards like they hold the answers to every moral question he has been asking himself since he first felt that inconvenient throb in his jeans. but the memory refuses to fade.
it lingers in the shower when hot water runs down his chest and his hand wraps around his cock without permission, stroking slow and frustrated while your freshly known name slips out between gritted teeth like a confession he wishes he could swallow back.
it follows him into bed at night, where he lies stiff on his back and remembers the exact shade of flush that crept up your neck when his eyes dragged too long over your body.
he hates it. hates how easily a girl barely out of her early twenties can unravel the careful, quiet life he has built for himself. he is older, disciplined, a man who values order and restraint above almost everything, yet here he is, reduced to stolen glances through the balcony railing and late-night strokes that leave him emptier than before.
you do not make any of it easier. you still wave at him from across the narrow gap between your balconies in the mornings, soft smile curving your lips like you know exactly what you are doing to him. you leave polite little notes taped to his door about shared packages or the new recycling bins downstairs, your handwriting neat and looping in a way that makes his fingers tighten around the paper every time.
each accidental brush of your fingers when you hand him mail in the hallway sends a spark straight down his spine, and every polite “good morning, nanami-san” you offer chips away at the walls he keeps trying to reinforce. he catches the sound of your laugh through the thin wall sometimes when you are on the phone with people… your age, light and warm, and his cock thickens in his slacks before he can stop it.
he tells himself it is nothing. just proximity. just the natural reaction of a man who has been alone too long. but deep down he knows the truth: you have gotten under his skin, and the more he tries to push it away the harder it pulls.
tonight the last thread of his restraint finally frays and snaps.
the familiar knock comes at exactly the time he wishes it to, soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet of his evening like a hook sinking into flesh.
nanami opens the door still dressed from the office, white button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, black jeans sitting low on his hips, the faint musty-clean scent of him drifting out into the hallway, clean and faint cologne and the long day clinging to his skin.
you stand there in another oversized t-shirt that slips off one shoulder and those same tiny sleep shorts that have been haunting him, hair not perfect like you had been caught up in something… private, cheeks already carrying that telltale pink flush. it’s as if last week was repeating itself.
“the router again,” you say, voice small and breathy, but your eyes are not on any imaginary problem. they trace the open collar of his shirt, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his chest fills the doorway. “it keeps dropping signal. i tried everything you showed me last time but… i think i need your help again.”
he should tell you no. should suggest you call the building manager in the morning this time and close the door before the air between you thickens any further. instead he exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, and reaches for the small toolbox he keeps by the door without saying a word.
he follows you next door, the faint click of the lock behind him sounding louder than it should. the moment you are both inside the living room the atmosphere shifts, warmer and heavier, like the space itself is holding its breath. you lead him to the same corner shelf where the router sits, but this time you do not hover at a polite distance.
you stand close enough that your bare arm brushes his rough skin when he crouches down to look. the lights on the router are steady green. he knows it is working fine the second he glances at it. and most definitely you know it.
the excuse is paper-thin and neither of you bothers to pretend otherwise.
nanami rises slowly, turning to face you fully, his tall frame casting a shadow over you in the soft lamplight. his eyes do the same slow, solemn drag they did the week before, only heavier now, sharpened by seven long days of fighting the memory of your body.
he watches the way your nipples have already tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, the subtle press of your thighs together like the ache between them is already building. his cock responds immediately, swelling thick and heavy inside his black jeans, the thick ridge becoming obvious as it presses against the denim. he’s sure a faint damp spot is beginning to form, but he does not try to hide it this time. he lets you see. lets the weight of his stare settle on you like a touch.
“the router is working fine,” he says, voice low and rough, carrying that same stern tone he always uses, like he is delivering a verdict in court rather than standing in your living room with a hard-on he cannot will away. “you know that as well as i do. why did you really call me over here?”
you swallow visibly, eyes flicking down to the clear outline of his cock straining against his jeans before rising back to his face.
your chest rises and falls with a heavier breath, lips parting slightly, but instead of answering you take one slow step back. then another. your hands move to the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking under the fabric, and you bend forward just enough to slide them down your legs in one smooth motion.
the shorts pool at your ankles and you step out of them, leaving you in nothing but a pair of grey lace panties with delicate pink ribbons threaded along the edges. the soft fabric clings to the curve of your pussy, the faint outline of your folds visible through the thin material, and nanami’s right leg twitches involuntarily, his cock jerking hard inside his jeans at the sight.
his brows draw together in a quick pretend of frown, serious expression tightening. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice dropping even lower, a clear warning threaded through the words. but you do not stop. your fingers catch the hem of your oversized t-shirt next, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the delicate dip of your waist, the underside of your breasts.
you pull the shirt up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside the shorts, and now you stand there in only the grey lace panties, tits bare, nipples stiff in the cool air of the room. nanami’s breath catches, his hands flexing hard at his sides, the long fingers curling into fists as he fights the urge to reach for you.
he says your name then, low and rough, the syllables heavy with warning. “don’t.” but you only smile, small and soft and knowing, and continue. your thumbs hook into the waistband of the panties, sliding them down your hips with agonizing slowness, the lace catching briefly on the swell of your ass before you let them fall.
you step out of them completely, now fully naked in front of him, skin flushed warm under his heavy gaze. you walk toward him, bare feet quiet on the floor, hips swaying just enough to make your tits move softly with each step. when you are close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from your body, when his mouth opens to speak again, you lift one finger and press it gently to his lips, shushing him.
nanami lets out a small, broken sound, half whimper, half groan, the noise slipping out before he can stop it. his cock throbs visibly in his jeans, another bead of pre-cum soaking into the fabric as the tension coils tighter in the narrow space between your bodies.
he exhales shakily against your finger, eyes dark and conflicted, thick needy lines deepening on his face. “you’re a very young girl…” he trails off, voice rough and strained, the words carrying the weight of every reason he has been telling himself to stay away.
you pull your finger back just enough to speak, voice soft but steady. “i’m legal.”
“barely,” he counters immediately, the word clipped, his gaze dropping despite himself to the bare curve of your breasts, it taught him to squeeze on them and make you feel good, the soft swell of your hips, the smooth skin between your thighs where he can already see the faint shine of arousal. “you’re barely twenty-something. i’m more than twice your age. this… this is not appropriate.”
you tilt your head slightly, still standing naked and unashamed in front of him, the tension so thick it feels like the air itself has weight. “and yet you’re standing here with your cock so hard i can see it twitching through your jeans,” you murmur, eyes flicking down pointedly to the obvious bulge. “you’ve been avoiding me all week, nanami-san, but you still came over the second i knocked. tell me again how inappropriate this is.”
caught him red handed. fuck you.
he lets out another low groan, the sound vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up like he might push you away but instead hovering just above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint. “you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says, voice quieter now, almost pained. “i’m not some young man who can just… give in without consequences. you deserve better than an older neighbor who can’t keep his eyes off you.”
the banter stretches, slow and heavy, every word laced with the electric pull between you. you step even closer, your bare breasts brushing the front of his white shirt, nipples dragging against the fabric, and nanami’s breath hitches sharply. “then why does it feel like you’ve been thinking about this as much as i have?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “why do you look at me like you want to bend me over every time we pass in the hall?”
his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking visibly, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as his cock continues to throb between you.
“because i do,” he admits finally, the words dragged out like they cost him something. “i want to. more than i should. but you’re young. barely out of college. and i’m… this.” he gestures vaguely at himself, the musty yet cleaned scent of his body stronger now with the heat rising off his skin, the faint sweat dampening the collar of his shirt. “a tired man who should know better.”
you smile again, softer this time, and reach up to trace one finger along the line of his jaw. “then stop fighting it for one night,” you whisper. “just let yourself have me. i want you, nanami. i’ve wanted you since the first time you fixed my router and looked at me like you were starving.”
the silence stretches again, thick and humming with tension, his breath coming heavier now, chest rising and falling against yours. his hand finally settles on your waist, large palm warm and slightly rough against your bare skin, thumb stroking once, slow and deliberate.
he does not pull you closer yet, but he does not push you away either. the battle is still there in his eyes, solemn and conflicted, but the hunger is winning, inch by aching inch, as the minutes tick by in the quiet room and his cock continues to strain painfully against his jeans, waiting for the moment his restraint finally gives out completely.
nanami’s hand tightens on your waist, fingers spanning wide enough to nearly wrap around the curve of it, and the last of his resistance crumbles like dry paper under the heat of your bare skin against his palm.
he exhales once, long and shaky, eyes still calculated but dark now with the kind of hunger he has been trying to bury for weeks, and then he is moving, guiding you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sink down onto the cushions. he follows without a word, dropping to his knees between your spread thighs like a man who has finally stopped pretending he can walk away.
his broad shoulders push your legs wider, the white button-up stretching tight across his chest as he leans in, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. he looks up at you one last time, jaw set, like he is giving you one final chance to tell him no, but you only slide your fingers into his neatly combed hair and tug him closer. that is all it takes.
his mouth finds your pussy like he has been starving for it, lips parting to drag a slow, broad stripe up your folds, tongue flat and heavy as he tastes you properly for the first time. the groan that vibrates out of his chest is low and rough, almost pained, because you are already soaked, slick coating his tongue in a way that makes his cock jerk hard inside his jeans.
he licks again, slower this time, savoring the way your thighs tremble on either side of his head, then seals his mouth around your clit and sucks gently, tongue flicking in tight little circles that have your back arching off the couch. one of his huge hands slides up your stomach, palm pressing flat just below your navel, and he pushes down with just enough pressure to make your pussy clench around nothing.
the size of his hand there is obscene, fingers spread wide so his pinky rests near the base of your ribs and his thumb brushes the top of your mound, the sheer scale of him against your smaller frame making everything feel tighter, hotter, more overwhelming.
nanami eats you out like he has all night and nothing else matters, tongue sliding deep between your folds before circling back up to your clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that builds slow and relentless. his free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider, thumb digging into the soft flesh while he buries his face deeper, nose pressing against your mound as he drinks down every drop of you. the wet sounds fill the quiet room, wet and loud, his groans mixing with the slick slide of his tongue and the shaky breaths you keep letting out.
he keeps that steady pressure on your lower belly the whole time, palm rubbing slow circles that make your insides twist and flutter, the tummy bullying so deliberate it feels like he is trying to feel exactly where his mouth is working from the inside. your hips twitch, trying to ride his face, but he holds you down with that big hand, keeping you exactly where he wants you while he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
when you come it hits hard and sudden, pussy pulsing against his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head and a broken moan spills out of you. nanami does not stop. he keeps licking you through it, slower now but just as thorough, tongue dragging over your oversensitive clit until your whole body jerks and you try to squirm away from the intensity.
he only presses his palm firmer against your stomach, holding you in place, the slight overstimulation making your eyes water and your voice crack on his name. “nanami…plea– fuck, it’s too much,” you whimper, but he just hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spark through your core, and slides two thick fingers into your still-clenching pussy without warning. they stretch you wide, the size of them so much bigger than your own that you feel every knuckle, every ridge, as he curls them deep and starts pumping slow and steady.
he lifts his head just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside you, eyes dark and tempting, lips shiny with your slick. “look at how well you take them,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, the praise low and almost reverent as he presses down on your belly again with his other hand, feeling the way his fingers create a very faint bulge against your walls from the outside.
the pressure makes everything tighter, more intense, and you clench hard around him, another wave of overstimulation crashing through you while he keeps fingering you through the aftershocks. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles that have you shaking, the combination of his thick fingers stretching you open and the firm press on your tummy turning every breath into a broken little sob.
he does not rush. he just keeps working you, long fingers dragging along that perfect spot inside while his palm rubs steady circles on your stomach, bullying that soft lower belly until you are dripping down his wrist and whimpering his name like it will make it better than it already is.
only when your thighs are trembling uncontrollably and your pussy is fluttering helplessly around his fingers does he finally ease up, sliding them out slow and careful, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean with a low groan that makes your stomach flip.
he stays on his knees between your legs for a long moment, forehead resting against your thigh, breathing hard while his cock strains painfully against his jeans, the front of the fabric dark with pre-cum. when he finally looks up at you his eyes are still determined, still carrying that quiet conflict, but the hunger has won completely now, and the way he stares at your flushed, marked body makes it clear he is nowhere near done with you tonight.
nanami stays on his knees between your spread thighs for another long, heavy breath, forehead pressed to the soft skin just above your knee while his chest rises and falls like he is trying to steady something inside himself that already broke minutes ago. his fingers are still shiny with you, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the sharp sweetness of your pussy hanging thick in the air.
when he finally moves it is slow and deliberate, like every motion costs him something. he rises to his full height, towering over you on the couch, white button-up wrinkled and damp at the collar from the heat rolling off both of you. his hands, large and steady, slide under your thighs and around your back in one smooth motion, scooping you up off the cushions like you weigh nothing at all.
your legs wrap around his slim waist on instinct, heels digging into the firm muscle of his lower back, and the sudden shift leaves you gasping against his shoulder because he lifts you so easily, strong arms locking you against his chest while your bare pussy hovers right above the heavy bulge still trapped in his jeans.
he does not give you time to look down. one arm stays banded tight under your ass, holding your weight like it is effortless, while his free hand works between your bodies to unbuckle his belt with a quiet metallic clink. the zipper follows, the sound loud in the quiet room, and he shoves both jeans and briefs down just enough to free himself.
you feel the thick, heavy length spring up against your inner thigh, hot and velvet-smooth, the blunt mushroom head already slick and leaking. before you can even tilt your head to catch a glimpse he shifts you higher in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest wall for leverage, and uses that same free hand to guide the fat head of his cock right to your dripping entrance.
the broad tip nudges through your folds, rubbing slow and deliberate, coating himself in your slick while he watches your face with those solemn dark eyes, brows knitted tight like he is still fighting the last scraps of restraint.
“breathe,” he mutters, voice low and rough, the single word almost gentle even as his hips tilt forward. he helps you sink down, one thick inch at a time, the stretch burning so good it makes your jaw go slack and your eyes flutter half-shut.
he is big, thicker than anything you have taken, the veined shaft dragging along your walls as he lowers you steadily until your ass meets his hips and he is buried to the hilt. a quiet groan tears from his throat when he bottoms out, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, and for a long second he just holds you there, letting you feel every inch of him pulsing deep inside your smaller body.
you’re pressed and folded in an awkward position, and it only makes the size difference feel more obscene, your soft curves dwarfed by his tall, solid frame.
nanami does not wait long. his hands grip your ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he starts to move, lifting you up and dropping you back down onto his cock with controlled, powerful strokes that hammer into you deep enough to punch the air from your lungs. each thrust makes your whole body jolt in his arms, tits bouncing under nothing. bare and free for him to watch, back sliding against the wall while he fucks up into you like he has been imagining it for weeks.
his height towers over you completely, shoulders broad enough to block out the room, white shirt straining across his chest with every roll of his hips.
the mushroom head of his cock drags perfectly along that spot inside you on every downstroke, the sheer size of him making your belly bulge slightly every time he bottoms out, a faint outline visible under your skin if you looked down, but he keeps your face buried against his neck so you cannot.
he keeps that steady, punishing rhythm, hips snapping up hard while his arms hold you suspended like you are weightless, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with every thrust. sweat beads along his hairline, dampening the collar of his shirt, and his breath comes in hot, measured pants against your ear.
“too big for you?” he asks, voice strained but still carrying that solemn edge, even as he grinds deep and holds you there for a heartbeat, letting you feel how completely he fills you.
your only answer is a broken moan and loled nod, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, legs tightening around his waist as another wave of overstimulation starts building fast. he does not slow down. he just keeps lifting and dropping you onto every thick inch, eyebrows still knitted in concentration, eyes flicking between your slack mouth and the way your body takes him so greedily.
his shirt keeps getting in the way, bunching up between both of you, so he shifts his grip, one hand sliding up to yank the fabric higher until it is completely off of him, exposing his sweaty chest completely to the cool air and your half-focused stare.
now there is nothing between you but sweat-slick skin and the relentless drag of his cock stretching you open. he leans in, mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin while he hammers into you harder, the angle shifting so the head of his cock bullies that perfect spot with every upward thrust. your smaller frame jolts in his arms with each powerful stroke, pussy clenching tight around the thick length splitting you apart, and nanami groans low and deep, the sound rumbling through his chest as he feels you start to flutter around him again.
he keeps you pinned against the wall like that, towering over you, strong arms never tiring as he fucks you deep and steady, the size difference so stark it makes your head spin. every time he bottoms out his hips grind against your clit, the pressure on your lower belly from the inside making everything feel tighter, fuller, more overwhelming.
you are already close again, thighs shaking around his waist, voice cracking on his name, and nanami just holds you there, determined eyes locked on your face while he drives you closer to the edge with every heavy thrust, determined to feel you come around his cock before he lets himself follow.
nanami’s rhythm starts to falter just a little, hips snapping up with shorter, more desperate strokes while his breath comes hot and ragged against the side of your neck. he can feel it building fast, that tight coil low in his gut, his heavy balls drawing up tight and aching as your pussy flutters and squeezes around every thick inch of him.
but he refuses to let go first. he is older, more controlled, and right now that control means making sure you fall apart completely before he does.
with a low grunt he shifts his grip, one big hand sliding under your ass to tilt your hips forward while the other presses flat against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch that pushes your pelvis out and opens you up even more obscenely. the new angle is nasty, almost cruel, your body folded and suspended in his arms so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock on every upward thrust and the fat head of him drags directly into that spongy spot inside you at a brutal upward curve.
your legs dangle wider, heels kicking uselessly against his lower back, the sheer size difference making you feel like you are being split open and rearranged from the inside while he holds you like a toy.
he starts hammering into you with that filthy new angle, cock bullying that spot over and over until your eyes roll back and broken sobs start spilling from your slack mouth.
the overstimulation crashes in hard and fast, your already sensitive pussy clenching and spasming around him while tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to slip down your flushed cheeks.
your hand flies down between your bodies on instinct, palm pushing weakly at his lower stomach like you can stop the relentless drag of his cock, fingers scrabbling against the damp fabric of his white shirt. nanami’s eyes narrow, jaw tightening, and he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he hisses the words low and dark, “do that again and i’ll fucking hurt you good.”
the threat hits you like a live wire. your whole body seizes, a choked cry tearing from your throat, and then you are squirting hard around his cock, hot fluid gushing out in messy pulses that soak his jeans, drip down his balls, and splatter onto the floor beneath you.
nanami groans deep and filthy at the feeling, the wet heat flooding around him making his cock twitch violently inside you. he does not slow down. if anything he fucks you harder, hips snapping up with wet, punishing slaps while his free hand slides between your bodies and starts tracing tight, relentless infinity signs over your swollen clit with two thick fingers. the pressure is mean and perfect, circling and dragging in that figure-eight pattern while he keeps pounding into that nasty folded angle, cock bullying your g-spot and his fingers never letting up on your overstimulated clit.
“i know, baby, i know,” he rasps against your ear, voice hoarse and strained, the words almost soothing even as he wrecks you. “you can take it. just let it happen.” your legs shake violently around his waist, tears streaming freely now, little hiccuping sobs mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy taking every brutal thrust.
nanami keeps that freaky rhythm going, hips rolling deep, fingers drawing those endless infinity loops over your clit until your vision whites out and another shattering orgasm rips through you, pussy clamping down so hard it almost forces him out. he hisses through his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest, but he powers through it, fucking you straight through the peak and into the trembling aftershocks.
his own control finally snaps. his balls tighten almost painfully, cock swelling even thicker inside your fluttering walls as he buries himself to the hilt one last time, grinding deep while thick, hot ropes of cum flood you. he comes with a low, broken groan that vibrates through his chest, pulsing hard and endless, filling you so full that it starts leaking out around his cock in creamy white streaks every time he gives one last shallow thrust.
the mess is everywhere, your squirt and his cum dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his jeans and pooling on the floor, the obscene wet sounds slowly fading as he keeps you pinned against the wall, still buried deep, both of you heaving for air.
nanami’s forehead drops to your shoulder, breathing hard, the last energy well spent, showing of with both of your sweat-soaked body mixing with the sharp smell of sex filling the room. his arms stay locked around you, holding your smaller frame effortlessly even as his cock twitches with the last weak spurts inside you.
for a long moment the only sounds are your shaky sobs and his ragged breathing, bodies trembling together in the aftermath, messy and spent and still connected. he does not pull out yet. he just keeps you there, suspended in his arms, the quiet weight of everything that just happened settling heavy between you while his cum continues to leak slowly out around where he is still buried deep.
nanami stays buried inside you for what feels like forever, thick cock still twitching with the last lazy pulses while warm cum slowly leaks out around where your bodies are joined, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor in messy little trails.
your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling, heels digging weakly into his lower back like you cannot quite let go yet, and he keeps holding you up without any effort, strong arms locked under your ass, keeping your smaller frame suspended against the wall like it is the most natural thing in the world. your shaky little sobs eventually quiet into soft, hiccuping breaths, tears drying on your cheeks, but the overstimulation still makes your pussy flutter weakly around him every few seconds, milking out another thin trickle of his cum.
finally he shifts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he carefully pulls out, the wet sound loud and obscene in the quiet room.
a thick glob of his cum follows immediately, sliding out of your swollen, puffy pussy and running down to join the mess already pooled beneath you. he lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too shaky to hold you, so he keeps one arm banded around your waist, steadying you against his chest while his other hand tucks himself back into his briefs and jeans with a quiet zip.
the white button-up is wrinkled and damp with sweat when he puts it back on, black jeans dark at the front from your squirt, but he still looks put-together in that quiet, solemn way of his, even now.
he does not say anything at first. just looks down at you with those dark, heavy eyes, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare hip like he cannot quite stop touching you. then he exhales, long and tired, and rests his forehead against yours for a brief second.
“this…” his voice comes out rough, low, almost reluctant. “this can’t happen again.”
the words hang between you, simple and final, even as his hand lingers on your skin and his cum continues to drip slowly down the inside of your thigh.
he presses one last, almost gentle kiss to your temple, the kind of kiss that feels heavier than any promise, before he steps back. his fingers flex once at his sides like he is fighting the urge to pull you close again, then he turns toward the door, shoulders straight, footsteps quiet on the floor.
“get some rest,” he murmurs without looking back, the manly scent of him still clinging to your skin. “and… call the building manager about the router next time.”
the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there naked and trembling in the middle of your living room, thighs sticky, pussy aching and full of him, the quiet weight of what just happened settling deep in your chest. you know he means it. you also know, deep down, that neither of you really believes it.
well y’all i had to claw my nails onto a wall to storm this idea so it better do good or you’re not hearing from me again.. (i’m literally posting in few hours again 😛)
i know i’m days late when posting this but trust i had to edit and fix some plot hole but yall it’s here and if it flops i’ll cry so bad
jimin is the hardest dog in that group how on earth is he smiling to himself with blushy cheeks eating some 700,000 scoville sauce while jin is seeing god and namjoon is entering the mom i miss you stage
Catch Me If You Can
Catch Me If You Can
Ship: Crush!Jungkook x Annoying!Reader
Description: You lived to get under Jungkook’s skin, constantly trying to rile him up and annoy him just to get a reaction. What happens when, during a cabin trip with friends, you accidentally push too far?
Warnings: PRIMAL PLAY, (primal kink go brrrrrr), Slight Dub-Con, Exercise (we hate running), More Exercise (we love fucking), Degradation, Humiliation, Praise, Choking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Dom!Jungkook, Mad!Jungkook (deserves its own warning), Manhandling, Restraining, Teasing, Reader is Annoying AF for the plot, Pussy Slapping, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex?
Word Count: 10.3k
A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this oneshot! I had a particularly good time writing it up. Please enjoy!
It was a hot summer day when your van strode up to the cabin. Though the roads had been shit, rocky terrain and winding paths to get through the mountains, your arduous journey had come to an end. At last, you could escape the cramped quarters of Yeri's Sedan, stretch your limbs and breathe in the fresh air the wilderness offered. Granted, you would have to squeeze through the extra luggage you guys had crammed in the back with you and Jimin, slipping between the seats and waiting for everyone else to climb out first, courtesy of the two of you sitting in the very back closest to the trunk— but it was well worth the sacrifice.
From your position in the very back you were able to stare at the back of Jungkook's head for a full 8 hours, with him being none the wiser. God, you were a creep for getting satisfaction from that, but you were a woman obsessed. Seeing every time his tattooed fingers would comb through his hair, or the occasional stretches from sitting in the same place for too long, it was a view you were glad you didn't miss from any other seat. Yeri and her boyfriend Jaehyun, who was driving, were sitting in the very front, which left four seats in the back. Jungkook had opted for the middle right, and though being seated right next to him may seem optimal, it would make it too obvious that you were constantly staring. A habit you couldn't keep in check for the life of you. Unfortunately, the sight of Jungkook was irresistible. Instead you let Taehyung take the chosen spot, with you and Jimin sitting in the back with the leftover duffel bags and backpacks you were unable to cram in the trunk.
Not that you were complaining. You could deal with a little less leg room with the privacy you were granted to creep all you'd like. Jimin, sweetheart that he is, was asleep for the majority of the trip, snoring away except for the occasional gas station breaks and rest stops. You were able to peak over Jungkook's shoulder a few times to see what he was up to, but it was mainly doodling in his notebook or playing ad-free games on his phone. No insightful texts for you to spy on or gain intel from.
"Fucking finally!" Jaehyun killed the engine, stopping the radio along with it.
"Thank you for getting us home safely, baby." Yeri reached over the center console to give her boyfriend a kiss, much to the disgust of her brother Tae.
You looked over to Jimin, who was still snoozing, mouth agape and head leaning back in his neck pillow. Shaking his shoulder, you rose him from the dead. "Jimin, buddy, we're here already."
"Here" was a 2 story cabin in a heavily wooded, rural area located in the mountains. With a heated pool and far from civilization, it was the perfect place to recenter and take a breather from every day life. It was a popular destination primarily in the fall and winter, but the six of you were able to get a good price on it for the summer, all of you pitching in on the AirBnB months in advance for this getaway. You were particularly ecstatic about it. Five whole days stuck in a cabin with Jungkook? It was a fanfiction come to life! Granted, you'd prefer it were just the two of you and you had been snowed in, as the story line typically goes, but you'll take what you could get.
Jungkook, who was Taehyung's best friend, had been the object of your not-so secret affections for quite some time now. Always quiet, almost broody, he was a gorgeous specimen who barely even spared you a glance.
Granted, you did your best to annoy him at any opportune moment. Anything to get his attention. Seeing as you were Yeri's best friend, you might as well have been Taehyung's second obnoxious younger sister. Both you and Jungkook were constantly at the Kims' house, giving you ample time to be in his business and know the details of his personal life.
You swore sometimes he hated you, but if he did, he didn't outright show it. When you'd do your best to tease him or get a rise out of him, he'd ignore you or brush off your attempts. Those were the worst. You hated the indifference he gave you. All you wanted was a reaction, to see that pretty face contort into something besides boredom around you for once. Even if it were a joking smile or a grimace or a scowl— you wanted it so bad. Anything to get his eyes to finally lock with yours for more than a second. Anything to get him to notice you.
Then again, after years, you still hadn't gotten much from him. It was as though he were impervious to your feeble attempts. Perhaps he had gotten used to it in your younger years, knowing exactly how to make you tick and truly boil with rage inside. Perhaps he simply never cared. Either way, it was a habit you were unable to break at this point, still acting like a kid with a playground crush, teasing just to get a reaction.
It was the only types of interactions you really got with him anyways.
Jimin, Taehyung's other friend, grumbled as you shook him, looking up and out of the window at the greenery before him. He blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings and turning to you. "How long was I out?"
"Two days," you joked, eyes wandering to Jungkook slipping out of the car. You shimmied between the seats, grabbing your duffle bag with you as you climbed out. "Good luck getting proper sleep tonight. You were pretty knocked out of it."
You stretched your arms overhead, relieving the ache in your shoulders and legs and massaging the sore muscles. You watch Jungkook do the same, observing the sliver of skin revealed as his t-shirt rose up. Thank god this place had a pool. You couldn't wait to see Jungkook shirtless again, to see if his abs had gotten more defined, if his shoulders got any broader, if his biceps got any bigger. Had he gotten any more tattoos in addition to the full sleeve he sported? Your mouth watered at the thought.
"Home sweet home!" Yeri cheered, approaching the front door and putting the code into the lockbox attached to the door knob.
You circled around the car to where Taehyung was opening the trunk. Grabbing onto the handle of your suitcase, you yanked it from the pile, nearly falling on your ass in your attempt.
"Woah! Do you need help with that?" Taehyung questioned (after laughing at your expense). "Yo, Kook! Can you come give Y/N a hand with her bag?"
Your heart practically leapt at the thought as Jungkook approached, immediately grabbing your suitcase as if it weighed nothing.
"How much shit did you pack? We're only going to be here a week," he grunted, reaching for your duffel too. "Go ahead and give me that too."
"Sure you can handle all of that?" you teased, but give him the bag anyway.
"Better than you, that's for sure. You'll be wheezing like an old man trying to carry these upstairs."
He was right about that. You were excited to see him do it, though, seeing his muscles pump up and strain, veins prominent in his hands and forearms as he carried them for you. Sure, Taehyung had told them to do it, but you could let yourself fantasize for a moment that he did so for you. For such an introverted nerd, he was surprisingly a gym rat, with much of his time with Taehyung now spent at the gym.
You obediently followed him into the cabin and up the stairs, getting a great view of his ass. Fuck you needed to stop perving over this man, but you couldn't help it.
Yeri and Jaehyung were going to be downstairs in the master bedroom, where there was one other bedroom for Jimin. Upstairs there were two more bedrooms, one where you'd be solo and the other for Taehyung and Jungkook to share. (Or perhaps Jungkook and Jimin would switch. Taehyung had simply insisted he did not want to sleep anywhere near Yeri and her boyfriend.)
Following Jungkook into what was presumably your room, you took in the space. It was very much a cozy vibe, with western decor and lots of mahogany. The bed was easily big enough for two people.
"Where do you want it?"
Your pulse quickened as you looked at Jungkook with wide eyes.
"Wa— Hm?" You corrected yourself quickly before you could blurt out the words "want it". No need for him to know where your dirty mind had wandered.
"Your bag."
"Oh. On the bed's fine." It'd be fine for you guys to do it, too. You could already see him spread out on the comforter, a meal waiting to be devoured. You tried to wipe the thought from your mind before you started to drool. There'd be plenty of time to fantasize about that later, and all while he was in the bedroom right next to you.
Jungkook dropped the duffel onto the sheets, turning to head out.
"Wait!" You internally curse yourself. "Er, do you need help with your bags, perhaps?"
He raised a brow. "You really think you'd be much help?"
"I mean, your bag is probably lighter than mine. Unless you packed dumbbells are something." You couldn't help but grin at the thought. "Bet a gym rat like you would get withdrawals from being away for so long."
He scoffed at that. "I think I'll manage just fine one week without."
"I dunno." You practically sang the words. "I think I see your biceps deflating already. You haven't been slacking off or anything lately, have you?"
He rolled his eyes, ignoring your comments and leaving your bedroom. You let out a huff of disappointment, grumbling as you tossed yourself onto your bed, kicking at the sheets in frustration. You just wanted him to stay in your room even a minute longer. Then again, if you had the opportunity you'd probably lock him in here. Chain him to the bed and ride him into the sunset if you were feeling truly psycho. (Which, don't worry, you weren't. At least for the time being.)
—
The day after, the six of you were huddled on the carpet in the foyer after binging the newest episodes of Love Island, glasses of wine in hand. Well, you, Yeri, and Taehyung had wine in hand. Jaehyun and Jungkook had opted for sake, and poor Jimin was already slumped over on the couch from it, no doubt in need of the sleep he evaded last night from his extraneous car nap.
The remaining five of you were playing a drinking game, where one wanted to collect as many of the cards as possible through whatever truth or dare was written on it, or be forced to drink. You were currently working through your third glass of wine, careful not to go to the fourth as you knew it would bring you into solid messy-drunk territory. Yeri was undoubtedly sloshed at this point, her face flushed and rosy as she leaned against Jaehyun.
Jungkook wasn't the least bit drunk, it seemed, only taking one shot and successfully pulling off most of the requests the cards demanded of him. He had a pretty impressive selection, whereas you opted for sips of your wine instead.
Yeri picked up the card, grinning as she read what was on it. "When was the last time you had sex?" She squealed, giggling as she further nuzzled against her boyfriend. "Well me and Jae—"
"Nope! Quit it!" Taehyung interrupted, snatching the card from her hand, his ears tinged pink from both being flustered and the alcohol. "I do not need to be hearing about that."
"But Taeeeee I don't wanna take another drink," Yeri whined, reaching for the card, which Taehyung held out of her grasp.
"Someone else can do it for you. I do not want to hear anything about my sister's sex life," Taehyung said with disgust. He turned to you, card pointed between two fingers. "Y/N?"
"Oh-ho-ho, you want to hear about my sex life then?" you joked, taking the card from him.
"Better yours than my sister's," Tae grumbled.
Still, you weren't sure if you wanted to share the truth. However, knowing Yeri's drunk state, she'd undoubtedly call you out on it if you told anything but.
Your cheeks flushed further, this time with embarrassment. The truth was you hadn't gotten laid in almost half a decade. But in your defense your vibrator and fantasizes of Jungkook had brought out more orgasms than any of the guys you hooked up with in college, and you weren't in the mood to set yourself up for disappointment. No one could compare to the fantasies in your head, so you'd everyone a favor and not waste anyone's time.
Jungkook nudged you with his shoulder after you took too long pondering. "Are you going to answer or what?"
You normally would've been elated for the brief physical contact, but instead it served as a reminder of his presence for this question. It also made this harder to avoid.
"Do I really have to? I'm not sure it'd be suited for Jimin's delicate ears."
"I'm pretty sure he's snoozing again anyway," Jungkook shrugged, tilting his head to the friend. "Go ahead and do it if you're brave enough."
Well, there was no other option with that. For once you shy away from his gaze, turning your head away as you stare at the card in your hand.
"Four years," you admit quietly.
Taehyung guffawed. "Four years? How have you gone that long? I can barely make it a few weeks."
"Ew ew ew! Now why do I have to hear that?" Yeri complained, shoving at her brother. "He's right though. We need to get you laid, girlfriend."
"Shut uuuup guys," you groaned. "It's not that hard. There's just... There hasn't been someone I wanted to do that with." Who wanted to do it with me, too.
Yeri's eyes lit up with drunken mischievousness. "What about—"
Jaehyun slapped his palm over her mouth, no doubt knowing exactly what she was going to say. Jaehyun, having been Yeri's long time boyfriend, knew all too well about your long standing crush on Jungkook. No need for her to blurt it out to the rest of the room. "I think it's about time I get you to bed."
Yeri weakly protested, but before long her boyfriend successfully dragged her back to their bedroom, and you're left with the other three.
"How come you haven't gotten with anyone in so long?" Taehyung asked, nosy as ever.
You tossed your card in your pile, picking up your wine glass to take a gulp this time. "No one's wanted me I guess."
"Bullshit. I told you last year my friend Jaemin was into you and you never even hit him up." Damn Taehyung.
"He's cute and all just..." You did your best not to glance at Jungkook, instead observing him from your periphery. "I have this idea in mind of what I want things to be like, and I know no one can live up to expectations."
"You sure you're not just too picky or something?" Taehyung chuckled. You wondered for a second if he was also in on your worst-kept-secret.
"Maybe," you admitted. "But it's not worth wasting people's time. I mean, I'm sure eventually I'll find someone who will make me want to at least try."
"And no one has for four years?" Jungkook finally spoke up.
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks at his direct inclusion. No, you wanted to scream. No one but you! "We can't all be easy," you said defensively. Who knew how many other women Jungkook had been with while you were stuck pining.
"We can't all be prudes, either," Jungkook shot back.
That was unlike him. And it stung. You locked eyes with him, and he held your stare, unyielding for once.
"You know, I think it's about time someone gets Jimin to bed. He's going to complain about back pain if we let him stay in that position on the couch any longer," you redirected, breaking off the stare and looking away, ending the game. Suddenly it didn't feel like fun anymore.
Taehyung groaned. "You're probably right."
As he moved to carry his friend back to his room, you exited, wanting as much space from Jungkook right now as possible. You felt embarrassed for the way he called you out like that. Did he really think you were a prude? Someone who wouldn't put out because she was... what? Too good to? Too scared to?
You got up to leave, the air inside suddenly feeling much too stuffy for your tastes. You needed some space from Jungkook and his words, letting your cheeks burn a little less and get your mind off internalizing the interaction. In the backyard now, you headed to the pool, sitting down to dangle your feet in the water, the LED lights from within surrounding you in a near neon blue. You tilted the glass back to your lips, getting whatever leftover drops of wine there was to offer. You definitely pushed too far with the "easy" comment. Served you right for being an annoying brat.
You let yourself dip further into the pool, submerging yourself in the heated water as you put down the glass. It felt comforting to be in here, clothes and all, though you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear, having pre-prepared for sleep. The shirt floated along with you, drifting around your waist and upper thighs as you glided through, feeling the warm water kiss your bare skin and bring comfort. Sometimes when you were feeling especially weird you'd float in pools like these and pretend you were back in your mother's womb, safe and protected from the inevitable mistakes that would come with living.
You needed to calm yourself, erase the mistakes of a few minutes before in your mind. You move your arms and float within, keeping yourself upright until you tilt back, laying on the surface as you idly glide along the water. Staring up at the stars, they seemed so much brighter than back home. You could clearly make out a few constellations. Orion's Belt, the big and little dippers...
"What're you doing out here?"
Your peaceful swim is brought to a halt, and you righten yourself to see Jungkook staring down at you.
Why was he out here?
"Swimming."
"I see that," Jungkook said. "You shouldn't swim when you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk," you denied.
"Yeah you are. Your limit is three glasses, and you just finished your third." He looked pointedly at the glass left on the edge. So he had noticed how many you took. And knew you couldn't have more than four.
Well, of course he'd know that. The first time you tried wine was when you were sleeping over at the Kims', and you and Yeri had killer hangovers that resulted in the entire guest bathroom being wiped down. To be fair the two of you didn't know that wine got bad after it was opened, and the bottles that had been hidden in the bar had been there for years.
"So what?" You felt like a petulant child, turning away from him. You were still embarrassed, and weren't expecting to interact or see him again until at least morning. You figured he'd be helping Taehyung with Jimin.
"So you should get out of the pool and dry off." He dropped a towel by the edge. Had he brought that with him?
"What're you gonna do if I don't? Come get me?" You couldn't help but tease. Part of you really wanted him to.
"Funny," Jungkook huffed. He squatted down, the lights from the pool causing the shine of the moving water to dance across his face, illuminating him beautifully. "Can you get out now, please?"
"I don't wanna." You swam a bit further away from him to the other side. You had half the mind to stick your tongue out at him.
There's a beat of silence.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook said. That you didn't expect.
You stilled, keeping your place in the water as you tried to process his words.
"I shouldn't have called you a prude," Jungkook continued. "You have standards. That's commendable. I'm sorry if we— I, made you feel like shit about it. It was wrong."
You held your breath, and it helped you float a bit more. You couldn't believe Jungkook was apologizing to you. Your back was still turned to him, so luckily he couldn't see your expression.
"Are you mad at me?" he questioned.
You swallowed, trying to collect your thoughts. "No." You turn your head to the side, still not directly looking at him. "I'm... sorry too. I shouldn't have insinuated you were easy." If he were, maybe then he'd give you a chance.
"It's fine. C'mon, let me get you out."
He held his hand out to you, and you giddily swam up to him. His large hand completely dwarfed your own, and a small part of your gremlin brain gave you an impulsive thought that drunk-you simply couldn't resist.
You tugged, watching him fall headfirst into the pool, water splashing everywhere as he submerged completely beneath. You let out a maniacal laugh as his head popped up from the surface, a mix of surprise and rage on his features. You had never seen that on his face before.
"Now we're even!" You cackled, watching him sputter out whatever water had gotten into his mouth.
"You are so lucky I didn't have any electronics on me!" he exclaimed. He swam towards you, causing you to squeal and try and swim away. "Oh no you don't!"
His large hands grip your waist, pulling you against him as you wriggle and try to escape his hold.
"Look who's ma-ad!" you breathily wheezed, endlessly amused by the anger on his face. You couldn't help it. You finally got under his skin, and like the child you were, it brought you so much delight. So much satisfaction.
"Of course I'm mad, you're being an absolute brat right now."
"I've never seen you this mad," you continued, grinning up at him. "It's so hard to get a rise out of you."
"You still try, though."
"I do," you admitted, looking up at him cockily. "And today I succeeded."
"C'mon, brat, let's get out of here before I get a cramp from keeping us both afloat." He tugged you closer to his chest, and you feared he might feel your heartbeat quicken.
You tried to squirm out, but his arm his ironclad around your waist as he dragged you closer to the edge. "I can swim on my own!"
"I'm not letting you." Jungkook finally let go of you, only to lift you up with both hands and sit you on the ledge. You're blessed with the sight of him hoisting himself up as well, and the outline of his abs and chest through the now transparent white shirt assured you your little prank was well worth the trouble. He grabbed the towel he had brought before and dumped it on your head, pressing a large hand down and rubbing the fabric into your hair. "Dry," he commanded.
You begrudgingly did as you're told, rubbing the towel over your head and face. Luckily it was still a hot summer night, so it wasn't as though you were freezing when you got out.
You dried as best as you can, wringing your shirt out and offering him the now partially-damp towel. Admiring him while he was partially distracted, you couldn't help but replay the image of his irritated face in your head over and over again, and how much you liked it.
"Thank you," you quietly mumbled, almost hoping he wouldn't catch it. "For coming to get me out."
"Well... I was concerned I upset you." He finished patting himself down. "Besides, now we're even."
—
After that, you made many more feeble attempts at catching Jungkook's attention. Asking him to reach dishes on the higher shelves when you'd typically have no issue climbing on top of countertops. Knocking on his bedroom door to see what he was up to— though most times it was just Taehyung. One time you accidentally popped in on the elder in the midst of changing, which was embarrassing. No more of that.
Sometimes you accidentally succeeded, however. Like during your hike through the mountains as a group, your left knee started audibly clicking with every step. You tried to swallow the pain, but with how bruised your feet felt and how often you had to stop the group to take a breather, it was becoming difficult. Curse you for being the least athletic of the whole group. You should've joined Yeri in volleyball sophomore year when you had the chance.
Jungkook, chivalrous gentleman has he was, begrudgingly insisted that you climb on his back the rest of the trek down. Not that you really minded, though, feeling his steady heartbeat through his back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck was a dream come true for you. You simply felt embarrassed that you had caused all the trouble, and not even on purpose this time.
On the final day before you all were set to head back home, however, you officially crossed a line.
You hadn't even intended for the night to go the way it did. It was 2 in the morning, and most everyone was already asleep in preparation for the long drive tomorrow. You, though, were a well known insomniac, with tonight being no exception.
Imagine your surprise when you stumbled across Jungkook, lying across one of the pool chairs, tiny sketchbook in hand. He looked fine as hell, hoodie hiding most of his tattoos, gym shorts showing the expanse of his muscled thighs. You were so upset this was your last day living with him, able to invade his space so easily.
With a devilish grin you snuck up behind him, snatching it from above to get a better look. Unfortunately you lost the page he had been working on, and flipping through the earlier pages you recognized the anime and flower sketches he had been working on during the ride here. "May I?"
"Y/N!" Jungkook's head twisted around as he glared at you, swiping for the book which you quickly held out of reach. He huffed with frustration. "Give that back."
"These are good, Jungkook, no need to be embarrassed," you snickered, flipping over a page to see small doodles. "Don't tell me you've got porn or something hidden in here."
Even through the neon LED lights the pool illuminated, you could see his cheeks burn a slight crimson. Ah, so there was something interesting in here. That or he was particularly attached to it. That only gave you further incentive to mess with him.
He stood from the seat, towering over you as he approached. You took a step back, however, keeping the book outstretched the other way. There was no way you were giving up that easily. Shaking his head, he pressed his tongue against the inside his cheek, irritated. He looked so hot. You were delighted at the sight. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Nope." You flipped over another page, seeing a detailed drawing of a bee and another of a water lilly. Nothing particularly damning yet.
"Why are you always trying to rile me up?" He made a quick move for the book again, but you're quicker, spinning around him and putting it behind your back.
Because it turns me on.
Nope, can't say that, that'd freak him out.
"Cause it's fun," you admitted cheekily. "I rarely get a reaction out of you typically."
"Is this the reaction you're wanting?" He took another step forward, and you take another step back. His eyes were lidded and jaw clenched, irritation prominent in his expression. You're half tempted to run into the woods with the book just to see what secrets he had hidden in it.
"Almost."
"Almost?" he questioned. He glared at you, cocking his head to the side as he studied your mischievous, satisfied expression. "What is it you're wanting?"
Oh, only for you to fuck me where I stand, no biggie.
"Just a bit of fun, clearly. You look like you're about to blow a fuse. There must be something awfully interesting in this book for you to be so territorial over it," you snickered, taking a few more steps back to distance yourself from him and flipping through another page. "I mean, come and get it, if you can."
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, though, because suddenly you hear a very low, very deep: "That's it."
You acted on instinct as you see him lunge towards you, your feet carrying you away without you having to even think about it. Jungkook's hand swiped for you as you dodged, and you were distancing yourself a few feet per second as you dashed away and out of the backyard. Your heart rate skyrocketed as you snapped the journal shut, clutching it to your body as you sprinted into the trees. You're practically flying across the pre-made path, illuminated well enough now by the moonlight over head.
You didn't think it would go this far. You should've given him the journal at that moment, but you acted on instinct, fight or flight mode controlling your every whim as you dove headfirst into the wooded area surrounding the cabin. You stayed along the path, only able to hear your feet beating against the ground and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Maybe you were overreacting, but the look in his eyes as he jumped towards you said one thing: Run.
You looked behind, certain you had been quick enough to lost him, but you see his shadowy form gaining on you. And fast.
Fuck!
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
You shrieked, making a sharp right off the trail and through the trees. You couldn't even remember the last time you had been chased. It must've been when you were a kid at summer camp. This was nothing like those games of tag, however. The fear coursing through your veins, the danger that was approaching from behind, all of it had given you a surge of adrenaline you had never encountered before.
Your breathing was quick as you dodged branches and swerved between the trunks. Luckily it wasn't autumn, otherwise the crunch of the dead leaves beneath your feet would give away your location. Then again, you had no clue where Jungkook had went either.
You didn't think Jungkook would hurt you. No, you knew he wouldn't.
But you didn't know what he was going to do when he caught you, either. And with how fast he clearly was, it seemed like an inevitability.
You internally cursed, spinning around one of the trees and pressing yourself against the bark, breathing through your nose and trying to make as little noise as possible. Fuck, you couldn't even see the trail or the cabin any more. How deep had you gotten? What if you weren't able to find your way back at this rate?
Panicked, you look around, your eyes now adjusting to the darkness. You're able to take a few slower, deeper breaths, relieved you had lost him.
But the relief didn't last long.
A large hand slammed against the bark next to you, Jungkook popping out from around the trunk. His eyes looked like one of a beast's, dark and ominous as he narrowed in on you. You screamed, ducking beneath and around the other side, barreling further into the dense forest. How had he caught up to you so fast? Why was he so determined?
Your shallow, fast breaths were getting louder now as you pumped your body for all you had, using all of your strength to get away as quickly as possible. You weren't going to make the mistake of looking back again— you knew he was right behind you.
And suddenly you felt arms caging in around your waist, Jungkook's catching you and yanking you to him, sending you both straight to the ground as his body weight crushed yours. The ground bit at your skin, all the breath being pushed out of your lungs as he fell on top of you, the crash chaotic and no doubt leaving bruises from where you landed. The book flew out of your hands as both of you tumbled down. You scrambled trying to get out from under him, arm outstretched and fingers spread as you try and reach for the book which was just a few inches away, when his larger one engulfs your wrist, twisting you around and manhandling you to flip you on your back.
You had fantasized about Jungkook on top of you many times before, but never quite like this.
He grabbed your other wrist and pinned it down next to your head, shackling you to the forest floor and forcing you to look up at him. You were able to see far too clearly with your eyes adjusted to the night, the moonlight showing the rage on his beautiful face. He was breathing heavily from the exertion of the chase, chest heaving up and down beneath his hoodie as he glared down at you, a wild look in his eyes. His nostrils flared, mouth parted as he took in greedy gasps of air, his face closer to yours than you were used to. You tried to reach a foot up to kick him in the chest, but he dodged, trapping your thighs between his own. You struggled, pushing your hands up to try and twist out of his iron-clad grip, but he remained firm.
There was another spike of fear that ran through you as you realized he wasn't going to let you go.
Fuck, what had you gotten yourself into?
You were in the belly of the beast, trapped with no hope of escape. You tried and twisted some more, and his grip tightened, keeping you glued to the ground with him practically sitting on top of you. He wasn't even looking for the notebook anymore, all of his attention focused solely on you.
He continued to breathe hard, now deeper as you were both finally at a standstill. "Caught you..." he panted, still trying to catch his breath.
You clenched and unclenched your fists, frustrated with how you were helpless beneath him, now unable to fight back. Offering a weak smile, you tried to catch your own breath. "J-Jungkook..." You hadn't meant for the word to come out so airy, almost like a moan. A plea. "You can have the book back... It's right there."
"I don't want it anymore," he snarled.
You gulped, squirming in his hold, something you could no longer hide given your predicament. "O-Oh," you said shakily, trying to offer a laugh. "Let's... Let's talk?"
"Yeah, let's talk," he sneered, with no intention of letting you out from under him. No doubt you'd try and run away again. You'd probably climb over the mountain if it meant escape. "Why're you always testing me, huh? Trying to get under my skin, irritate me. I've tried so hard with you, tried to be patient, but you just don't know when to quit, do you?"
This time you didn't respond, unable to answer his questions. You weren't sure this was exactly the moment for honesty.
"Thought you wanted to talk, sweetheart."
Fuck, that made your heart flutter despite the situation. You look to the side, anywhere but Jungkook, and instead to the leaves and trees overhead above him. "I-I just like annoying you, that's all."
"That's all, huh?" His fingers flexed around your wrists. "It's almost like you like seeing me angry."
You squirmed again, closing your eyes as you try to kick beneath him, heels digging into the ground as you try to push him off. His body weight didn't give you much wiggle room, though and your weak attempts don't go unnoticed by him. You felt so embarrassed, so small and vulnerable beneath his scrutinizing gaze. You turned your head to the side, wanting to shrink away form his hard stare. He didn't let up, however.
"Nuh uh," he hissed, stretching your arms above your head and trapping both wrists in one hand now. Unfortunately you didn't have enough strength to weasel out of the one. All that time you had spent thirsting over his gym photos, and now it was all being used against you. He roughly gripped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks as he turned your face from the side and back at him. "Look at me."
Hesitantly, you peeked back up at him, the angry expression you had worked so hard for now glowering down at you.
"Just..." You whimpered, biting your lip with shame. "Just wanted your attention."
The fingers around your face seemed to twitch at that, and his eyes flashed with something you don't recognize. Perhaps surprise? His grip on your wrists tightened, stretching your arms out more to make you squirm with discomfort. "Is that it?" You heard a low, ominous chuckle. "Well congratulations, sweetheart. You finally got it."
Before you could wail out your deepest apologies and beg for his forgiveness, he's tilting your chin up further, craning your neck, and kissing you.
Your eyes widened as you felt the lips you had dreamed of for so long on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth and gliding against yours with ease. He completely dominated you, the hand on your jaw now sliding down the column of your throat, feeling every gasp and moan that travelled through it as he took you completely. He lightly squeezed, as though reminding you to behave. Jungkook pressed his lips harder against yours, not letting you escape, forcing you to feel every part of him you had been so desperate for. Your head felt like it was spinning, fists furling and unfurling as you finally shut your eyes and tried to kiss him back, tried to keep up and have your body process this faster than your brain could. You were in complete disbelief this was happening. Was this real? Were you actually back home at the cabin, having another sick, twisted wet dream about Jungkook?
It was better than any of your dreams or fantasies could have predicted. The way Jungkook's mouth moved against yours, the secure hold against your neck and bound wrists, the subtle grind he made against you, nothing could compare. It felt better than you had ever hoped, and far, far filthier than you had ever dreamed.
Jungkook finally pulled back, breathless once again, lips now glistening in the moonlight as he stared down at you. You were panting as well, staring up at him with wonder at what he'd done, and what he'd do next. Did he regret it? Did he suddenly come to his senses? Realize it was you he was actually kissing in the middle of the wilderness?
His eyes scoured your flushed expression, traveling down to where your chest sunk and rose with each breath, and your thighs trapped between his. Biting his lip, he lifted to his knees, hands still firmly pinning you down as he shoved a leg between your own, nudging them apart. "Spread 'em."
Shocked, you did as you're told, slowly opening your legs to his prying eyes, humiliation coursing through your veins. You had gone outside in your pajamas, just some sleep shorts and a tank top, and there wasn't much modesty you could provide.
Jungkook seemed satisfied with the sight, however, moving his other knee between yours as well as he looked down at the tiny shorts that barely covered you now. "Fuck..." He let go of your neck, his grip loosening as he lightly touched the skin available to him, tracing down over your tank top, between your breasts and past your stomach, stopping just above the hemline of your shorts. He was transfixed, eyes drinking in all they could in the dim light. He locked gazes with you again, hard gaze refusing to let you look away. "Do you want me to touch you? Or do you want me to let you go and run away again?"
You gulped, thighs twitching at the thought of either.
"I need an answer, Y/N."
"I-I—" Curse your infernal stammering. You swallowed the saliva that pooled in your throat, trying to collect yourself. "Please... touch me."
Jungkook grunted in response, grabbing onto the waistband of your shorts and roughly tugging them down your legs, revealing a cute pair of pink panties for him to rip apart. He didn’t admire them too long, quickly yanking them down as well to store in the pocket of his shorts. He used the free hand to roughly pin one of your knees against the ground, keeping you spread for him with no where to hide, your glistening folds shining even in the darkness.
"Fuck, you really like seeing me mad, don't you?" he said under his breath, fingers lightly trailing up from your knee and up your inner thigh. You squirmed under his gaze, flustered and embarrassed at how exposed you were as he continued to unapologetically stare at you, eyes reveling at your bare sex. "Just wanted me to pin you down and fuck you every time you annoyed me, is that it?"
"Y...Yes..." you quietly admitted, hips slightly bucking to try and get his hand closer, to no avail. He pushed against your hip to keep you against the ground, thumb inching closer to where you wanted, rubbing slow circles against the inside of your hip. "Please don't tease."
His nostrils flared at that. "Tease? Like how you tease me all the time? Acting like a little slut just for my attention?"
His hand came down to slap against your wet folds, making your hips jump at the delicious sting. You accidentally let out a moan before you could stop yourself, his hand coming back down to rub against your sex and soothe the pain, traveling between your wet folds and admiring the slick that collected on them.
"Fuck, Jungkook!" You whimpered out the words, tears springing in your eyes.
"God, you're something else..." Jungkook said quietly, as though it were to himself. He let his digits dance against you, teasing around your entrance and clit but never giving you enough. "Every time you'd come begging for my attention, pissing me off, I had to walk away. Because I knew this would happen. Knew I'd just lose it and have to fuck the attitude out of you then and there."
He slipped a finger in and you mewled, pushing further against the hand that bound your wrists together. You weren't able to lift them even a centimeter from the ground. You wanted to reach up and touch him, curl your fingers into his hair and tug, wrap your hands around his forearm and feel the how the tendons worked as he curled his digits inside of you. You dug your heels into the ground, savoring the feeling of Jungkook's finger curling in you repeatedly, the sound of your wetness filling the night air.
"You're so wet for me, took it so easily..." He slipped another digit in, watching you keen as you tried to buck your hips again and greedily swallow him in deeper. "Couldn't just ask me out like a normal person, huh? Had to act like we were still on the playground, just irritate me for fun."
"It worked, didn't it?" you questioned, whimpering as the digits aimed at your g-spot, digging deep into your pressure point, his palm pressed against your mound and grinding against you.
He couldn't help but smile at that. "It did, didn't it?" His hand started moving faster, harder, as though to drive further emphasis to your question. "And now you're going to have to face the consequences."
You felt pressure building up in your abdomen, moaning as Jungkook jackhammered his fingers into you, his thrusts hard and precise. You weren't even able to bring yourself to orgasm this fast, but with Jungkook it seemed like it was about to happen any minute.
Jungkook hovered over you, his face close as he finally let go of your wrists, slapping his palm against your mouth the dull your screams. "Shh, not so loud, sweetheart," he cooed patronizingly, a wicked grin on his face as he saw you struggle and whine, a third finger slipping inside, giving you a delicious burn from the stretch of the girthy digits. "Don't want to wake anyone with those slutty sounds, yeah? Those are all for me."
You were finally able to do as you wished with your hands, both wrapping around his forearm as you felt the muscles move and flex with every curl of his fingers, veins bulging beneath as he worked to get you to the finish line. You couldn't help but let your nails scratch along him a bit, overwhelmed with the onslaught of pleasure he brought. The sound of his palm repeatedly slapping against your wet sex was embarrassingly loud, and the movement of his fingers revealed how into this you were.
"Ah..." Your moan was muffled beneath his palm, but he undoubtedly felt the vibrations against his skin.
"You close? Gonna cum on my fingers already?" His smile was near sadistic as he watched you struggle beneath him. "C'mon, let go for me. So fucking desperate for it."
His thumb came up to dig against your clit, swiping against you as he fingered you to an orgasm. Your toes curled and your thighs quaked, your moan muffled through Jungkook's palm as you arched against the forest floor, bliss overtaking you. Jungkook watched your expression intently, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched you unravel underneath him, eyes crossed and face flushed as you took what he gave you.
He slowed the pumping of his fingers, pulling them out and rubbing the digits against your clit again. You hated the feeling of being empty again, hips rising for his touch so he'd sink further into you again. Jungkook tsked, offering two more sharp slaps to your cunt to quell your disobedience. "I think you're all warmed up for me now."
He took his hand away from your face, shoving the waistband of his gym shorts and boxers down so his erection could spring free. Grabbing your hair, he forced your head to look down at his cock.
"Take a look, sweetheart. It's the dick you wanted so badly."
He gives your cunt one final, harsh smack before he's roughly shoving your legs apart again, knees glued to the grass beneath as he shuffles closer to you, his cock lying against your bare sex. You tried to gyrate against him, feel him harder against you, wondering if the orgasm he gave you would be enough for you to fit all of that inside. He was just as big as you had hoped and girthier than the three fingers that had already stretched you out so well.
Taking his cock in his hand, he slapped it against your pussy, teasing you further, letting you feel the heavy length that threatened to destroy you. He laughed when he saw the tears of frustration shine at the corner of your eyes. You tried to reach for him again, grab his cock and force it in you in one go, but he grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above you much like before. His face was inches from your own now, cocky and smug expression gleefully mocking your tearful, impatient one. "Are you gonna cry?" he questioned with a pout, sliding the cock head along your folds and teasing it against your entrance before bringing it back up to your clit, rubbing harshly to see your legs shake again. "Poor baby."
"Jungkook please just—" you sniffled, straining against his grasp. "C'mon, put it in, please?"
"Why should I, sweetheart, when you've been nothing but a bitchy little brat?" He emphasized his words with a few more harsh slaps, letting go of his cock to smack his palm against your wet folds, enjoying the way your hips jumped up against the ground, as though chasing his touch. He sneered as you sobbed, lower lip trembling. "What makes you think you deserve it?"
"Want it so bad. Worked so hard for it," you cried, lips trembling.
"Yeah?" He took his cock again, lightly pushing it against your entrance only a few centimeters, but still refusing to dive inside. "Gonna stop annoying me all the time? Trying to rile me up? Gonna be a good slut from now on?"
You nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes, I promise!"
He slowly shook his head, tongue digging into his cheek, tsking with disbelief. "Fucking liar."
With that he slowly pushed into you, watching your lips part into an 'o' and he sunk inch by inch into your wet heat, stretching you completely. You couldn't help the moans that escaped you, feeling him go deeper than you had ever experienced before, digging in and pressing against your cervix, right against your lower belly.
"Fuuuuck that's it." He emanated a dark growl from his chest, watching himself sink further into you. "Take it all. That's a good slut."
He finally stopped when his hips are flush with your ass, making you feel everything he had to offer. You felt so full. Never had you been filled so completely before, and the fact that it was Jeon Jungkook was almost enough to make you come undone all over again.
"Fuck, what a good pussy." He let go of your wrists, hands gripping beneath your knees and folding you in half as he pulled his hips back, giving shallow thrusts as he felt you take him. "So good for me sweetheart, shit. Look at you. So fucking pretty. Feel so fucking good for me. 'Course a brat like you gets this wet, fuck."
"You.. You..." You struggled to articulate words, gasping them out as you felt him drive into you, his thrusts getting longer and deeper as he pulled his hips back more, shoving his cock inside you harder to bury himself further into you. "You feel amazing."
He chuckled lowly, stooping over and connecting your lips once again, the kiss messy as he continued barreling his cock as deep inside as he could. "Yeah?" he breathed against you, the wet kissing sounds rivaling the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your wet pussy eagerly trying to swallow me deeper. "Live up to those— fuck— those dirty fantasies of yours, sweetheart?"
"Mmm," you moaned, nails clawing at his hoodie to pull him deeper. "Better."
He laughed at that, mouth fully taking over your own, forcing you to taste him as he reached one hand up to your throat, squeezing to choke you in a way that left you lightheaded. "You're better too, baby," he assured. "Never imagined you'd be this much of a slut for me."
You whimpered against his lips, grinding against him with every thrust, greedily swallowing each kiss and praying this moment would never end. You wanted to be glued against this forest floor with Jungkook forever, with only the trees and night air to hide you both. You tugged at his hoodie, bringing it up, letting your hands freely glide along the chiseled abs you had been obsessed over for years.
He rose, tugging it off quickly before diving back into you, not wasting a second to put his hand back on your throat and his lips back against yours. He wasn't letting you breathe for a second, wanting you lightheaded and dumb on his cock. It was as though he couldn't get enough of you, swallowing every moan and grinding his pelvis against your clit, eager to make you cum again.
"You feel so fucking good baby," he groaned, tugging your tank top up and over your tits, kneading at the flesh beneath his fingers before leaning back and landing another slap on your clit. You squealed, your legs nearly kicking as he brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing hard circles. "C'mon, give me another. Be a good slut for me, c'mon. Cum on the dick you wanted so bad."
He drove you to the edge, making you cum so hard you practically see stars, your body trembling like a leaf as he pounded against you, stimulating every part of you. He leaned back down to swallow your cry, groaning against your mouth as he felt you clench and shake around him, your pitiful cries only driving him harder, faster against you. Unrelenting, like the punishment this was originally meant to be.
"Good girl," he moaned, head burying into your neck to littler kisses all over it, harsh sucks and nibbles to mark you along with the scrapes and bruises you undoubtedly acquired when he tackled you before. "Good f-fuuucking girl."
You buried your hands in his hair, curling your digits between the strands and tugging as he dug his hips against yours, cock nestled in as deep as it could go as he ground his hips against yours, pelvis practically glued against your clit. He pressed himself as closely as he could to you, and you hugged him closer, embracing the feeling of his smooth, bare skin beneath your finger tips. You felt so sensitive from the constant stimulation, tears springing to life again. He noticed, giving a small peck at the corner of one of your eyes.
"Sensitive baby? Need me to stop?"
"No," you tugged him closer, not wanting it to end. "Don't stop."
He laughed, melting into you, one arm still holding himself up above you by the elbow. He pressed his other hand down against your abdomen, "Want another then?"
You squirmed at the thought, and your reaction only made him more determined, pushing further against you and grinding as deep as he could go, feeling himself move inside of you. The tip of his cock pressed against your g-spot, refusing to give you a break as he ground against it, the bulge below your belly button showing exactly how deep he was inside you.
"You're so cute when you cry." He kissed the other tearful corner. "Come on, one more with me. You were so desperate for it earlier. Need to fucking ruin you like the brat you are, c'mon."
He pulled his hips back, heavy thrusts returning as you're forced to take what he gives, feeling the bulge protruding from your lower tummy against the palm of his hand. He kissed you messily again, his tongue casually dominating and sliding against yours smoothly and effortlessly, as though he had been kissing you for years. Like putting you in your place was simply second nature to him. You mewled into his mouth, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier as he got closer to finishing. His hand slid down your stomach and back to your clit, and he grinned against your lips as you squealed.
"Fucking pathetic. Desperate for this dick and can't even take it," he teased, panting against your mouth. "Giving up? Little pussy can't take it?"
"I can- I can take it."
"Yeah? You gonna cum on this dick again, sweetheart?" He looked at your fucked out expression, the concentration in your eyes as you look up at him pleadingly. "Cum for me now and maybe I'll fuck you again, how's that sound? Show me you deserve it."
You raked your nails down his bare back, feeling your third orgasm of the night overtake you. Jungkook can feel it, too, his digits on your sex getting as sloppy as his thrusts, trying to milk it out of you.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon, fuuuuck yes take it. Good fucking girl— fuck—" He felt you cum on his cock, thighs trembling, moan ringing out through the night, and it's enough to undo him. He pulled out, stroking himself and biting his lip as he came all over your twitching pussy, letting out a deep, gravelly moan at the sight of you covered in him.
He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you, as both of you caught your breaths, basking in the afterglow of what you had just done.
You held Jungkook in an embrace, feeling his heart rate slow as the minutes pass, his dick softening against your thigh, and the sudden awareness that the two of you were basically naked upon grass in the middle of the woods. The blades tickled at your sweaty back, but you didn't care, absentmindedly combing through Jungkook's hair. While your post-nut clarity was currently fantastic, you were unsure if he was having second thoughts.
Jungkook nuzzled his nose against you, buried in the crook of your neck as he took in a deep breath. Hiding his face from you, he grumbled the words into your skin. "Open the sketchbook."
Right. The sketchbook. The whole reason you had gotten into this predicament in the first place. The reason he had chased you down into the depths of the forest. You looked back to where you had dropped it, and Jungkook sat up and reached for it on your behalf, grabbing it and handing it to you.
You stared at him, confused for a moment. "I don't need to see it, really. You have your right to privacy. I shouldn't have taken it from you. It was a dick move. I was just trying to annoy you."
He laughed a little. "I know. Just open it."
You did as you were told, opening it up and thumbing through the pages. They were the same ones you had seen before. Some anime sketches, some doodles, some wildlife. It wasn't until you got to the final page he had drawn on. It was you. It wasn't finished yet, but it was undeniably a light sketch of you. You blinked, processing it, staring at the page and tracing your fingers lightly over the pencil strokes. Before what had just happened, happened, Jeon Jungkook was sketching you in his journal.
Jungkook let out a breath, as though he had been holding it the entire time you were flipping through the pages. "That's why I was so embarrassed. I didn't... I couldn't sleep. Couldn't get your face out of my head."
You locked eyes, yours wide, almost with disbelief. "Really?" You feel like all of the air had been knocked out of your lungs yet again.
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, as though nervous. "It's not done yet, or anything, but—"
"I love it," you blurted out, grabbing him and kissing him, pressing your lips firmly against his so there'd be no doubt. "Can I keep it?"
He chuckled. "Maybe when it's done. I've got no use for it now with the real thing."
You both share a smile at that, and you reached for the discarded clothes that had been strewn about, no doubt with dirt and grass stains now. "How far did we wander off? I really hope we didn't get lost."
"Nah, I remember the way back. C'mon." He pulled your shorts back up your legs, put back on his hoodie, and grabbed your hand, leading you back towards the cabin. You couldn't believe you were actually holding his hand, his large one engulfing your own, and you could feel how steady his heartbeat was through his palm. True to his words, you made it back home, and surprisingly he ended up falling into bed with you, though purely to sleep. And perhaps not to wake Taehyung.
He never gave you back your panties, though.
—
"All right, everyone, let's get a move on! We've got an 8 hour car ride ahead of us and that's not even including the bathroom breaks I know Taehyung will need!" Yeri shouted, shoving her final bag into the trunk before slamming it shut.
"Excuse you, bitch. Everyone needs those bathroom breaks," Taehyung grumbled, yanking at the back door of the Sedan.
The side door to the back seats slid open, and you climb in to same seat you had been in on the way there. Instead of Jimin, though, the person who came to join you was Jungkook, offering a small smile as he approached. "Mind if I sit here?"
"Yes," you said, but yank your duffel to the floor so the seat was clear. "Sure a muscle pig like you can squeeze in here?"
"I have a talent for squeezing into tight spaces."
You blushed at that, causing Jungkook to laugh at your embarrassment, sitting down next to you. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and making your heart practically leap from your chest.
"Look at you, making the quips for once." You couldn't seem to wipe the grin of your face, and you knew before the end of the ride your cheeks were going to hurt from smiling so much. "Uno reverso, huh?"
"It's about time I did the chasing from now on," he grinned back, squeezing your hand.
Jimin sat down in the middle seat next to Taehyung, confused as to why Jungkook stole his seat. He turned to Taehyung, puzzled. "What happened with them?" he mouthed.
"I don't even know man. Whatever it is, it's about damn time."
'We were fans of artists who speak the different languages from us but we didn’t think differently of them because of that.'
