THE VOICE
Summary: Jungkook returns home past midnight from a stressful board meeting to find his wife Y/N asleep on the living room sofa, wearing a dark red silk nightgown she bought to surprise him. Her sleepy, vulnerable state—combined with her husky, slurred "Ah" sounds and the sight of her body barely covered by silk—shatters his restraint completely.
Content Warning: Explicit sexual content (21+), somnophilia-adjacent themes (consensual), premature ejaculation, breeding kink, rough sex, scratching/marking, established rough sex dynamic.
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It was past midnight when Jungkook finally stepped through the door, his tie loosened, his temper frayed from the twelve-hour board meeting from hell. He wanted silence. He wanted bed.
What he found instead stopped him dead in the foyer.
The living room was bathed in the blue flicker of the television, volume barely a murmur, casting long shadows across the leather sofa. And there she was.
Fuck.
Y/N had fallen asleep waiting for him.
She was sprawled across the Italian leather in a heap of dark red silk—a nightgown he'd never seen before, something sinfully expensive that clung to her full breasts and rode up her pale thighs. Her wavy hair was tangled around her shoulders, her lips slightly parted, her chest rising and falling in the deep rhythm of sleep.
One arm was thrown over her head, the other resting on her stomach, and the position had caused the neckline to gape, revealing the upper swell of her breast, the lace doing nothing to hide the dusky pink of her nipple beneath.
Jungkook's mouth went dry. His cock, which had been dormant all day, stirred instantly, thickening against his zipper. He crossed the room in three strides, his shoes silent on the marble, his eyes devouring every inch of her.
"Baby," he rasped, kneeling beside the sofa.
She didn't wake fully. Just shifted, her nose wrinkling, a soft sound escaping her throat—a whimper, sleepy and confused. "Mmm?"
That sound.
That fucking sound.
It was husky, slurred, dripping with unconscious sensuality. Her voice, usually soft and clear, was now rough with sleep, lower in register, breathy and lazy and obscene without trying to be.
Jungkook's cock jumped, straining painfully against his trousers. Precum leaked from the tip immediately, staining his boxers.
He reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed hair from her face. "Y/N," he tried again, his voice guttural. "Wake up, baby."
She stirred again, turning toward his touch, her eyes fluttering open—hazy, unfocused, heavy-lidded with sleep. Her lips parted, and when she spoke, it was like liquid sex poured directly into his ear.
"Koo...?" she mumbled, the syllable stretching out, thick and slow. "You home...?"
Jungkook felt it like a physical blow to his groin. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hand flying to his crotch to squeeze himself through the fabric, trying to stave off the sudden, violent urge to orgasm right there.
"Yeah," she continued, not fully awake, her voice dropping to a whisper that scraped like velvet over gravel. "Missed you... waited..."
She shifted again, the silk sliding higher, and Jungkook saw she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The sight combined with that voice—that sleepy, sex-drunk, innocent-yet-filthy voice—shattered his restraint.
He unzipped his pants with shaking hands, freeing his cock—it sprang out, heavy and veined, throbbing with his heartbeat, already leaking copiously.
"Koo...?" Y/N blinked, trying to focus, her voice still thick with sleep. "What're you...?"
"Can't," he groaned, the word torn from his throat. "Fuck, baby, your voice. I can't—"
He climbed onto the sofa between her legs, the leather creaking beneath his weight. She was already lying on her back, her body warm and soft and open. He didn't undress her. Didn't take off the red silk. Just shoved it up to her waist, hooked her legs over his shoulders, and aligned himself with her entrance. The position folded her nearly in half, her hips tilted up to meet him, completely vulnerable.
"Wait," she breathed, her voice still that deadly, sleepy husk that made his cock twitch. "Jungkook, I'm not—"
He thrust in.
"Ah!" The sound she made was sharp, surprised, still rough with sleep—ah, not oh—that open-mouthed, involuntary sound of penetration. She was tight—always tight—but warm and yielding as he forced his way in, inch by thick inch, her legs draped over his shoulders opening her completely.
"Fuck," he grunted, his head falling forward, his face finding the curve of her neck. He leaned over her, his biceps flexing on either side of her head as he braced himself, his hips already drawing back to slam forward again. "Fuck, you're so hot. So tight."
"Ah..." she whimpered beside his ear, her voice cracking slightly, breathless and overwhelmed. Her hands found his arms, her fingers gripping his biceps—and then she scratched, her nails digging deep into the hard muscle, leaving red crescents as he pounded into her. "Koo... ah... too deep..."
The whimper did it. That ah, dragged out, sleepy, helpless, right against his ear, combined with the sharp sting of her nails marking his skin.
Jungkook had intended to last. Had intended to fuck her properly, thoroughly. But that sound—the way she couldn't form full words, just "ah" and "Koo" and "ah" again, breathed directly into his ear while she clawed at his arms—shattered him.
He pulled back and slammed in, and on the third thrust, he felt his orgasm cresting with terrifying speed.
"No," he gritted out, trying to hold back. "No, not yet, fuck—"
But then she moaned again—quietly, right beside his ear, her lips brushing his lobe, her voice that deadly sleepy rasp. "Ahhh... Koo..."
That was it. That ah, stretched out, lazy, drunk, whispered directly into his ear while her nails raked down his biceps.
Jungkook lost it completely.
With a guttural roar that he barely managed to muffle against her shoulder, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted. His cock pulsed violently, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum directly into her womb—load after massive load, more than he'd ever produced, spilling out of her immediately because there was too much, coating her thighs, soaking the leather beneath them.
He kept thrusting through it, his hips jerking involuntarily, milking every drop into her as his body shook. "Fuck," he gasped, his face still buried in her neck, his biceps trembling beneath her scratching fingers. "Fuck, baby, I'm sorry, I couldn't—your voice—that fucking ah—I couldn't hold it."
Y/N was waking up fully now, her hands still gripping his arms, her nails still dug into his skin, her legs still draped over his shoulders. But her voice—that voice—remained thick and lazy, accepting, wrecked.
"S'okay," she slurred beside his ear, her breath hot against his neck, her fingers relaxing slightly but still tracing the stinging marks on his biceps. "You always fuck me rough anyway... ah..."
The words, delivered in that sleepy, sex-drunk rasp directly into his ear, sent a jolt through his spent cock. He was still inside her, still leaking, her legs still hooked over his shoulders keeping her open, and her complete acceptance—her expectation of his brutality—made him want to ruin her all over again.
"Yeah?" he growled, lifting his head just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with renewed hunger. "You like it when I can't control myself? When I use you like this?"
"Mmm... ah," she hummed beside his ear, her eyes fluttering shut, her voice dropping even lower, every vowel starting with that open-mouthed sound. Her nails dug into his biceps again, harder this time, marking him. "Like it... ah... like when you lose it... makes me feel..."
"Feel what?" He pulled back slightly to thrust shallowly, making them both groan, her legs tightening over his shoulders to pull him deeper.
"Yours," she breathed right against his ear, the word stretching out, thick and filthy, starting with that ah that made his cock jump. Her fingers scratched down his arms again, claiming him as he claimed her. "Ah... makes me feel yours... completely..."
Jungkook was fully hard again.
He pulled out—the sound was obscene, wet and filthy—and flipped her over onto her stomach. He dragged her hips up, her knees sinking into the leather, her face pressed against the cushions.
"Going to take my time this time," he warned, lining himself up with her swollen, cum-slick entrance, his biceps still burning from her nails. "Going to fuck you until you can't make that sound anymore."
He slammed in from behind, bottoming out in one thrust, and Y/N's cry was muffled by the cushions—still husky, still breathless, still starting with that ah.
"Ah! Jungkook!" she cried out, her voice breaking with every impact. "Ah... it's too much... ah... you're hitting... right there..."
"Here?" He angled deeper, grinding against that spot.
"Ah! Yes! Ah! Yes! Please... ah... please..."
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing furiously. "Come back to that voice," he ordered. "That sleepy voice. That fucking ah. Let me hear it."
Y/N let herself drift, and when she spoke, it was perfect—slurred, thick, helpless, every word starting with that sound, her hand reaching back to scratch at his bicep again.
"Ah... Koo..." she mumbled, her voice barely audible, drunk with pleasure, her nails dragging down his arm. "Ah... feels good... ah... don't stop..."
Jungkook's thrusts became erratic, savage. "Fuck, baby. Fuck. That's it."
He pounded into her, the sofa scraping across the floor, her breasts bouncing, the red silk bunched around her waist. He could feel his second orgasm building, his balls tightening.
"Going to fill you up again," he warned, his voice strained, his grip on her hip bruising while her nails scored his other arm. "Going to breed you so full you can't walk."
"Ah... yes," she whimpered, her voice dropping back into that deadly sleepy register, every syllable starting with that ah. Her hand clawed at his bicep again, harder, leaving marks. "Ah... give it to me... ah... please... fill me up..."
He exploded.
With a roar, Jungkook buried himself to the root and released, his cock pulsing violently, pumping endless hot seed into her already-saturated depths. It was endless—spurt after spurt, his body shaking, his groans low and animalistic.
Y/N came with him, her walls clamping down, milking him, her voice rising in a sleepy, broken keen that started and ended with that ah—"Ahhh!"
When it was over, he collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the sofa, both of them trembling, sweating, covered in fluids. His biceps bore her marks—red lines and crescents where she'd scratched him, claimed him.
"Couldn't make it," he panted against her neck, flexing his arm where she'd scratched. "The second I heard that ah in my ear... felt your nails... fuck, baby, I was done."
Y/N turned her head, her eyes heavy, her voice still that rough, sexy rasp, her fingers tracing the marks on his arm. "S'okay," she whispered, accepting, sated. "Ah... you always fuck me rough anyway... ah... I like it..."
Jungkook groaned, already hardening for round three.
"Then I'll pretend to be sleepy every night," she teased, her voice dropping into that deadly register, drawing out that ah like honey, her nails digging into his bicep once more.
"Don't," he warned, though his hips were already rolling again. "I'll die."
"Then die happy," she slurred, her eyes fluttering shut, her body going limp, one final ah escaping her lips as she drifted back toward sleep, her hand still resting possessively on his marked bicep.
Jungkook took her twice more before dawn—once in the shower, once against the window—and each time, she greeted him with that voice, those scratches, that ah-filled surrender that made him lose his mind completely.
He never came home late again.
But he made sure she was always waiting.
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