𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝜗𝜚 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤
SUMMARY -> in which jeon jungkook is staying in your city to film a show. he is at your hotel, on the floor you are assigned to clean.
WORDS -> 6.8k
WARNINGS -> jungkook x female reader, idol!jungkook x maid!reader, yearner!jungkook, yandere!jungkook, possesive!jungkook, sub!jungkook, soft dom!reader, unprotected sex, hair pulling
now playing: anything - swv˚.⋆♪
jungkook was tired. lonely. bored. a lot of things he shouldn’t be feeling in the thick of his group’s hiatus. he thought his time away from promotions, constant studio sessions and public appearances would allow him to discover himself, but all he has discovered is how he really doesn’t have anyone to talk to.
there was a lingering, bone-deep loneliness that permeated throughout his body. he yearned for any form of real connection that asked nothing from him.
then you came into his life.
“room service!” you called from the other side of the door, followed by a polite knock.
the first thing he noticed was your eyes, filled with the indifference of being around someone you didn’t know.
he wasn’t jeon jungkook, maknae of bts to you.
he was just some guy.
and somehow, that made his heart race with excitement.
“mr. jeon?” you stood there, silver breakfast platter in hand.
the second thing he noticed was that you were beautiful, his heart skipping a beat when your wide eyes made contact with his.
he stared at you. you smiled, snapping him out of it.
“hello.”
“did you order breakfast?”
he stepped out of the door way, gesturing for her to come in, “yes.”
you rushed to start arranging his food on the table. for a moment, he only heard the clicking noise of dishes.
“how’s your morning?”
he swallowed.
that should be trivial. meaningless. but it wasn’t. he didn’t remember the last time someone asked that question.
jungkook’s eyes flicked down to the table before looking at you, “it’s… quiet.”
your hands paused mid motion, turning to him before you smoothed down the front of your skirt. “good quiet or bad?”
he didn’t answer.
you deflated slightly, turning to his coffee. “i guess it depends on the person,” you set the mug down next to some syrup, “how many pumps?”
he ran a hand through his hair, “four.”
you nodded, “yes, sir.”
he watched you move like you belonged there—like this was routine, like he was just another guest, another door to knock on, another voice to answer politely before moving on.
but you didn’t feel like just another housekeeper.
his gaze lingered longer than it should have, tracing the small details he had no business noticing. the way your fingers curled around the handle of the coffee pot, the soft concentration in your expression, the quiet rhythm of your movements.
it made something twist low in his chest.
something warm. something unfamiliar.
he shouldn’t be looking at you like this.
shouldn’t be feeling this… drawn.
and yet, when you’d asked him how his morning was, it hadn’t felt like small talk. it had felt real. like you meant it.
like you actually cared about the answer.
and he’d just… stood there.
said nothing.
watched you pull back, just slightly.
“it’s good quiet,” jungkook blurted.
you glanced at him, a little surprised, before offering a small smile.
“that’s good,” you said gently. “everyone needs a little quiet sometimes.”
you both fell silent, the only thing heard was the clinking of dishes and silverware.
you brushed off your apron, then gestured to his breakfast on the table, “your breakfast is ready, mr. jeon. have a beautiful day.”
this time he was the one to smile first, “thank you.”
“my pleasure!” you replied enthusiastically, your hospitality training shining through as you closed the door behind you.
•••••
you didn’t hate your job.
your coworkers were kind. the guests weren’t, but you always told yourself that made the nice ones feel even nicer. the hotel was beautiful, a place that every service worker in your area aspired to be.
as you sat in the break room with your fellow housekeepers, they all couldn’t stop talking about the same thing: jeon jungkook, maknae of the bts was staying there.
what you didn’t tell them was that he was staying on your assigned floor. you had found out when your manager sent you to a mr. jeon’s room and jungkook greeted you at the door.
the guests you served were almost always memorable—powerful, rich, and sometimes famous people stayed at your hotel, but he was different.
your heart broke a little when you saw him. jeon jungkook was a beautiful man, of course, but what you couldn’t get over was the exhausted look in his eyes. they were dark, lonely, and sad. you had always heard the idol life had its struggles, but you had never seen it first hand.
throughout the day, you didn’t know why you kept thinking about him.
maybe it was the way he looked at you like he was trying to figure something out.
or maybe it was the way he answered your question.
it’s good quiet.
it didn’t sound convincing.
•••••
when jungkook got to his room from a long shoot, he wanted to flop onto the bed and never get up again.
but he knew he couldn’t do that.
because he had a studio session tonight.
jungkook loved being a singer. he was living his childhood dream, and he couldn’t be happier he was doing it, but he wasn’t sure if he could make it back out of his room, his body aching for a good night’s sleep that it would not receive.
he grabbed the hotel landline and dialed the room service number.
“hello! this is room service,” an undistinguishable, customer service voice greeted.
“do you serve coffee this late?” he blurted.
“yes, sir.”
he sighed, proceeding to order an iced coffee with four shots of espresso—something he knew would give him jitters, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
he heard a knock in what felt like no time, “room service!”
jungkook forced himself to get up.
it was you behind the door, holding his coffee with a bright smile on your face.
“hello, mr. jeon!” you exclaimed, glowing even under the slightly dim hotel lighting.
he cleared his throat, “it’s you again.“
“yes, you’re on my assigned floor. we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” you offered the coffee to him, “please take a sip so i know it’s to your liking.”
he took the cup, fingers slightly brushing against your soft hands. “thank you, it’s great.“
you watched him intently, brows furrowed, “may i ask why you want coffee this late?”
he took a moment to figure out what to say, drawing a blank. “um… it’s a work thing.”
your head tilted ever so slightly, “okay, please take care of yourself.”
he was slightly taken aback. why do you care?
“is there anything else you need?” you asked, hospitality training shining through yet again.
“no, thank you.” he took another sip.
“good night, mr. jeon.”
“good night.”
after that, he was shameless.
he asked for more towels, soap, sheets, blankets, food, whatever he could just to see your face. he was an addict and your mere presence was his fix.
when he went on set during the day, he had a pep in his step that created whispers amongst the crew and his management.
it didn’t take long for him to notice it.
the difference.
the way his chest didn’t feel as tight when he knew he’d see you.
the way the day felt… manageable.
jungkook had spent years learning how to perform exhaustion away, smiling through it, laughing through it, pushing through it until it didn’t matter anymore. but this was different.
this wasn’t something he had to fight.
it was something he waited for. between takes, his mind drifted. not to the music, not to the cameras, but to you.
to the sound of your voice, soft and polite through the door. to the way you said his name like it didn’t carry any weight. to the way you looked at him like he was just a man standing in a hotel room.
he found himself checking the time more than he should.
counting down hours without meaning to. wondering if you were working. if you were on his floor. if you were knocking on someone else’s door, smiling that same smile, asking someone else how their morning was.
his jaw tightened slightly at the thought. then he exhaled, shaking it off. it didn’t matter. you always came back.
you always knocked on his door.
and when you did, everything quieted.
the noise in his head, the pressure in his chest, the weight of everything he carried all softened, just a little, just enough.
just because you were there. just because you looked at him like that.
like he was someone worth asking about.
jungkook leaned back in his chair between takes, staring at nothing, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.
he didn’t know when it had started.
didn’t know when you had become the part of his day he looked forward to the most.
he yearned for you. not your looks, not your body. you.
he just knew that the thought of not seeing you tomorrow felt wrong. unsettling. like something important would be missing. like the quiet would come back.
and this time, he didn’t think he could stand it.
the next day, he called for you again. he knew he didn’t need anything, but the room felt too quiet again.
and he already knew what fixed that.
this time, he got breakfast. he loved when he could order food. that was when he had the most time with you. you would tell him little stories about your college classes or your family.
sometimes jungkook thought about what it would be like to meet them. how you would introduce him, your beautiful smile meant for just him. how your mother would overanalyze him as you said she overanalyzes everything. how your father would talk his ear off like you said he did to everyone. how you would cover your face with your hands like you did when you got flustered.
his heart almost skipped a beat when he heard the a knock on his door and your cheery voice, “room service!”
he practically ran to the door as if you would disappear if he didn’t reach you soon enough.
any tension he felt earlier melted away as he opened the door and saw your face. the look you gave him was different this time. still sweet, but a little curious.
he froze.
you giggled, “you really like room service, mr. jeon.”
“i—yeah, i guess,” jungkook rubbed the back of his head, “it’s… convenient.”
he felt heat crawling up his neck as he stared at you.
you had a gold necklace on today. you normally wore silver. was this a special day? did you have anything planned after this? did you change your preference? did you—
your eyes crinkled in confusion. “um… would you like me to come in?”
he jumped. “uh, yes, of course,” he stepped aside, “sorry.”
“it’s okay, it’s early,” you strolled to his table, setting down his breakfast.
when you passed him, his eyebrows furrowed. you had perfume on. you never wore perfume. this had to be a special day.
“i like your jewlery,” he finally said. “is it new?”
your cheeks flushed slightly, “thank you. i’m surprised anyone noticed.”
you paused for a moment, as if thinking about what you wanted to say next, “it’s because…” you sat down the breakfast platter for a moment to lean closer to him. his heart raced.
“i have a date,” you whispered.
the words didn’t register at first.
they hung in the air between you—soft, almost shy, like they weren’t meant to hurt anything.
you have a date.
jungkook blinked. once. twice. as if his mind needed a second longer to catch up to something his chest had already understood.
oh.
that’s why.
the necklace.
the perfume.
the way you looked a little brighter today. it wasn’t random. it wasn’t for no reason.
it wasn’t for him.
something in his chest dipped, slow and heavy, like a quiet drop he hadn’t braced for. he swallowed, forcing his expression to stay neutral, even as his fingers curled slightly at his side.
“a date,” he repeated, softer this time, like he was testing how it felt to say it out loud.
you nodded, a little bashful now, eyes flicking away from his.
“it’s nothing big,” you added quickly, “just… someone who asked me out.”
just. the word sat wrong with him. because it didn’t feel small. not when it was you. not when it explained everything he had been noticing. every detail he had been turning over in his head like it meant something.
it did mean something. just not what he thought. his gaze drifted to the necklace again, the way it rested against your skin, unfamiliar in a way that suddenly felt… deliberate. chosen. for someone else to see.
his jaw tightened before he could stop it. he didn’t like that. he didn’t like the idea of someone else noticing the same things he did. the way your smile softened when you got a little shy. the way your voice dipped when you said something personal. the way you stood just a little closer when you forgot yourself. he had noticed those things. he had been noticing. and now someone else would, too.
“that’s… nice,” he said finally, the words coming out steadier than he felt.
you smiled at that. soft. grateful. the same smile you gave him. and for the first time, it didn’t feel like his.
something tight settled in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.
because he realized, all at once, how easily you moved through your day. how easily you smiled. how easily you would leave this room, step into the rest of your life, and forget him.
jungkook looked at you for a moment longer, quieter now, something fragile flickering behind his eyes. he hadn’t realized how much he had started to look forward to you.
hadn’t realized how much space you had taken up in his day, until suddenly, there was someone else standing in it. someone else who would get your time, your attention, your laugh.
his grip tightened slightly around nothing.
because the thought settled, heavy and undeniable.
he didn’t want to share.
tonight was a rare night off. due to a scheduling conflict, the studio was booked and jungkook didn’t have to work tonight.
his friends dragged him out, saying that the club scene in this city was great, but no matter what, jungkook couldn’t shake the overwhelming numbness of it all. he couldn’t have fun. not when you were out somewhere tonight with another guy.
the music was too loud. the lights were too bright. jungkook sat back in the booth, barely listening, nodding along to conversations he wasn’t part of. he checked his messages. not because he had any he wanted to respond to, but because he wanted to pass time.
his thumb hovered over his screen before it dimmed, reflecting his face back at him. it was tired, distant.
his mind drifted to you. to the way you had smelled that morning. soft. different. how you’d smiled when you mentioned your plans. how easily you had said it. i have a date.
his jaw tightened. he didn’t like that he remembered it so clearly. didn’t like that it had followed him here, into a room full of people, into a night that was supposed to distract him.
“you’re quiet tonight,” one of his friends said, nudging his shoulder.
“just tired,” jungkook replied automatically, not looking up.
“then drink,” someone else laughed, sliding a glass toward him.
he took it, more out of habit than anything, bringing it to his lips without tasting it. it didn’t help. nothing did.
another wave of bass shook the room, lights flashing across the crowd, bodies moving too close, too loud, too much.
he exhaled, leaning back further into the booth, eyes scanning the room without interest.
and then he saw you.
everything stopped. not the music. not the lights. not the people. just him.
his grip tightened slightly around the glass in his hand as his gaze locked across the room.
for a second, he thought he was imagining it. that maybe his mind had gotten so used to thinking about you, it had started placing you in places you weren’t.
but no. it was you. standing near the bar, turned slightly to the side, your face lit up by a softer light than the rest of the room.
you weren’t in your uniform. no pressed apron. no neat, careful presentation. you looked… different. your hair fell a little looser. your clothes hugged you in a way he hadn’t seen before. there was a lightness to you, something unguarded, something that didn’t belong to the girl who knocked on his door every morning.
you were smiling.
not the polite, practiced smile he had memorized. this one was wider. easier. real. something in his chest pulled tight.
you laughed at something. soft at first, then brighter, and jungkook’s eyes shifted. to him.
the man standing next to you. too close.
close enough that he leaned in when he spoke. close enough that you didn’t step away. jungkook went still.
oh. this was what you meant.
your “plans.”
his fingers curled slightly against the glass, condensation damp against his skin.
he watched the way the man looked at you like he was trying to charm you, like he had the right to stand there and take up your space, like he was someone you had chosen to spend your time with.
something unfamiliar twisted low in his chest. sharp. uncomfortable.
he didn’t like it.
he didn’t like it at all.
you didn’t laugh like that in his room. you didn’t smile like that at him.
the thought came before he could stop it. and it lingered.
his gaze didn’t move. couldn’t.
the rest of the room blurred into nothing, the music fading into a dull hum, conversations dissolving into noise.
it was just you.
you, and the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you got shy. you, and the way you looked down for a second before looking back up at him—at him—with that same soft expression.
his jaw clenched.
he forced himself to take another sip of his drink, but it did nothing to ground him. nothing to pull him away.
“jungkook.”
he didn’t respond.
“jungkook.”
a hand waved briefly in front of his face.
he blinked, finally tearing his eyes away for a split second.
“what?” he muttered.
“you good?” his friend asked, brows furrowed slightly.
“yeah,” he said, too quickly.
his gaze drifted back. you were still there. still smiling. still with him.
jungkook’s chest felt tight. too tight. he shifted forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees now, like that would somehow bring him closer, like it would make any difference at all.
it didn’t. you were still out of reach.
worse, you didn’t even know he was there. the thought settled heavy.
you didn’t know. you didn’t look for him.
you weren’t waiting for him the way he—
he exhaled sharply, leaning back again, dragging a hand down his face.
this was ridiculous.
he barely knew you.
you were—
you were just—
his gaze flickered back to you again, softer this time, something quieter slipping into the sharpness.
you were you. that was the problem.
another laugh left your lips, and the man beside you said something that made you nudge his arm lightly.
jungkook looked away this time. he couldn’t watch that. not again.
“i’m heading out,” he said suddenly, already pushing himself to his feet.
“already?” someone asked, surprised.
“yeah.”
no explanation. he didn’t wait for one either.
the music hit him harder as he stepped out of the booth, weaving through the crowd without looking back.
but he felt it. the pull. the urge to turn around. to look for you one more time. to make sure you were still there. he didn’t.
he pushed through the doors instead, the cool night air hitting his skin as he stepped outside.
it was quieter out here. not the same quiet. but better. he stood there for a moment, breathing, trying to steady something inside of him that felt… off. unsettled.
his mind replayed it anyway. your smile. your laugh. the way you stood next to someone else like it was normal. his jaw tightened.
he hadn’t realized how much he had started to think of you as his. not until he saw you with someone else.
•••••
jeon jungkook had become your favorite guest.
he was polite, quiet, shy, and thoughtful. he wasn’t too difficult on the eyes, either. jungkook carried this sadness with him that made your heart ache. his eyes were wracked with a deep exhaustion that made you want to lock him in his hotel room so he had one good night’s sleep.
and yet, sometimes, rarely, he smiled. a real one.
it was subtle. quiet. but when it happened, it was like catching sunlight in your hands. you wished you could play it on loop.
your date was… disappointing. the guy was handsome, successful, everything that would make him perfect to bring home to your parents, but neither of you could escape the feeling of emptiness. when you noticed his eye start to wander to other girls in the club, you called your uber. who takes someone to a club for their first date anyways?
the night air was cooler than you expected.
you wrapped your arms around yourself as you stepped off the curb, the sound of the club fading further behind you with every step. your heels clicked softly against the pavement, slower now, no rush in your stride.
you felt silly for thinking maybe tonight would be something more than what it was.
you sighed, glancing down at your phone, debating whether to call it a night completely or stop by the convenience store on the corner before heading home.
“hey.”
your steps faltered.
you turned, brows knitting together slightly, and your breath caught. “mr. jeon?”
he stood a few feet away from you, hands tucked loosely into his pockets, shoulders slightly tense like he hadn’t expected to actually say anything once he saw you.
his hair was a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it too much. his eyes—
you noticed his eyes first. they weren’t distant like usual. they were focused.
on you.
“i—” you blinked, taken aback. “hi.”
a small, awkward silence fell between you, the distant hum of traffic filling the space.
“you know someone around here?” you asked, trying to fill it.
he nodded once.
“yeah.”
he didn’t.
but that didn’t matter right now.
his gaze moved over you, slower than it ever had before, taking in everything—the outfit, the way your hair had loosened, the faint smudge of your makeup, the same soft scent that had been lingering in his room earlier.
“you went out,” he said.
it wasn’t a question.
you let out a small laugh, a little embarrassed now under his attention.
“yeah,” you nodded. “i had a date.”
there was a pause.
you didn’t know why you kept talking.
maybe it was the way he was looking at you. maybe it was how easy it felt to just… say things to him.
“it wasn’t that great, though,” you admitted, shrugging slightly. “i left early.”
something in his expression shifted.
subtle. but there.
“good,” he said, too quickly.
you blinked.
he froze, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
“i mean—” he exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “i just… you deserve better than that.”
your heart skipped.
“you don’t even know him,” you said softly.
“i don’t have to,” he replied just as quietly.
the air between you changed.
you could feel it. thicker now. heavier. your fingers tightened slightly around your phone.
“mr. jeon—”
“jungkook,” he interrupted.
your breath caught again.
“jungkook,” he repeated, softer this time. “you can call me jungkook.”
you swallowed.
“okay… jungkook.”
the way you said his name—it did something to him. something that made his chest feel too tight, too full all at once. he stepped closer. not enough to crowd you. just enough that you noticed.
“can i walk you home? it’s pretty late.”
you nodded, him walking beside you as you both began to walk up the empty streets. it didn’t take long before you reached your apartment door.
“i saw you,” he admitted, breaking the long silence.
your brows furrowed slightly.
“what?”
“at the club.”
oh. your stomach flipped. “you were there?”
he nodded, “yeah.”
you looked down for a second, suddenly self-conscious.
“that’s… kind of embarrassing,” you laughed softly. “i didn’t even see you.”
“i know,” he said.
there was something in the way he said it.
something that made you look back up.
his eyes hadn’t left you.
not once.
“you looked…” he started, then stopped, like he didn’t know how to finish it.
you waited.
he tried again, “you looked happy.”
you frowned slightly.
“i wasn’t.”
another step closer. this one smaller.
more careful.
“i know,” he said quietly.
your breath hitched.
“how would you—”
“because i was watching you.”
the words settled between you.
your heart started beating a little faster.
“that’s…” you trailed off, unsure what to say.
but you didn’t step away. you didn’t feel scared. just confused. overwhelmed.
“why?” you asked softly.
his jaw tightened slightly.
“because i couldn’t not,” he admitted.
your breath caught.
“jungkook—”
“i don’t like it,” he said, more firmly now. “seeing you with someone else.”
your eyes widened slightly.
“what?”
“i don’t like it,” he repeated, quieter this time. “i thought i could ignore it. i thought—” he let out a breath, shaking his head. “i can’t.”
your heart was racing now. this didn’t make sense.
“why?” you asked again, barely above a whisper. “you don’t even know me.”
“i do,” he said.
you blinked.
“what?”
“i know the way you knock,” he continued softly. “twice. always twice.”
“i know you hum when you think no one’s listening.”
“i know you like extra syrup in your coffee even though you pretend you don’t.”
your lips parted. you hadn’t realized—
“i know you,” he repeated.
your chest tightened.
“that’s not—” you shook your head slightly, overwhelmed. “that’s not the same.”
“i know it’s not,” he said quickly. “i know i should take more time, i know i should do this the right way but—”
he stopped. looked at you. really looked at you.
“i can’t stand the idea of you walking into someone else’s life like that,” he said quietly.
your heart stuttered.
“like what?” you whispered.
“like you did mine.”
silence. the city noise faded again, just like before. just like when he first saw you. your fingers curled slightly at your sides.
“i’m just—” you let out a small, nervous laugh. “i’m just the girl who brings you food.”
his expression softened immediately.
“don’t say that.”
his hand moved before he could stop himself, gently brushing against your wrist—warm, careful, nothing like the rush in your chest.
“you’re not just anything.”
your breath hitched.
“then what am i?” you asked, barely steady.
he didn’t hesitate this time.
“mine.”
the word was soft. not demanding. but certain. your eyes widened.
“jungkook—”
he closed the distance. slowly.
giving you time to pull away.
you didn’t.
his hand lifted, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, like he was afraid you might disappear if he touched you too firmly.
“tell me to stop,” he murmured.
you didn’t. you couldn’t.
not when he was looking at you like that.
not when your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest.
not when you wanted this.
his lips pressed against yours. soft, hesitant at first. like he was testing something fragile. then a little firmer when you didn’t pull away.
your hand came up instinctively, gripping lightly at the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in something real.
you kissed him back. just for a second. just enough.
when you pulled away, your breath was uneven, your eyes wide as you stared up at him.
“you… you want me?” you asked, disbelief laced through your voice.
jungkook’s expression softened in a way you had never seen before. completely unguarded.
“i think about you all the time,” he admitted quietly.
“i wait for you.”
“i look for you.”
your head spun. this is was a lot to process for you.
his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, “of course i want you.”
you unlocked your door, letting him in and locking it behind him.
this time, you kissed him, and pure catharsis washed over you. he kissed you like starved man devouring his first meal. he gently pressed you against the nearest wall as he moved from your lips to your neck, your breath hitching as he left little lovebites all over your neck and chest.
his hands trembled slightly against your skin, a stark contrast to the confident way his mouth claimed you. he was shaking, you realized. this powerful, quiet man was trembling in your arms, and it sent a heady rush through you. he was completely undone, and you were the cause.
"jungkook," you breathed, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer, encouraging him. "don’t stop."
he let out a choked sound, something between a groan and a sigh of relief. his kisses became more desperate, more worshipful. he wasn't just kissing you; he was memorizing you. his lips traced the line of your jaw, down the sensitive skin of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste the rapid pulse beating there. he was addicted, and this was his first real hit in months.
"you have no idea," he murmured against your collarbone, his voice thick with an emotion that sounded dangerously like adoration. "no idea how long i’ve wanted this."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and swimming with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. he looked completely lost in you, his gaze roaming over your face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. he looked at your mouth, then back to your eyes, a silent question passing between you.
you answered by pulling him down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper. You took control, tilting your head and deepening the kiss, your tongue sweeping against his. he yielded instantly, a soft moan escaping him as he let you lead. He followed your rhythm, his hands gripping your hips like you were his only anchor in a storm. the power was yours, and he was willingly, desperately, giving it all to you.
"please," he whispered against your lips, the word barely audible but loaded with meaning. It was a plea. a surrender. he was asking for permission to fall apart, and you were the only one who could catch him.
you nipped at his lower lip, a sharp, possessive bite that made him gasp. "jungkook… what do you want?” you asked sweetly.
"you," he answered immediately, without hesitation. "everything… just you."
you led him down your short hallway to your bedroom, giving him quick kisses on the way there.
you both tumbled onto your bed, you laying below him.
he grabbed the bottom of your dress, “can i?”
you nodded, and he pulled the fabric over your head, leaving you in just your panties. he drunk you in for a moment, staring at you like a worshipper at a shrine. he crawled down so his face was between your legs.
he looked up at you with wide, shiny eyes.
“can i…” he started, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “can i taste you?” he slid his fingers to the waistband of your panties in anticipation, “please.”
just as you were about to say yes, he kept going, “please," he whispered again, his voice thicker this time, more desperate. "i need to... i need to taste you. i've thought about it for so long. please, let me make you feel good. i'll be so good for you, i promise. just... please."
the plea was so raw, so sweet that heat shot straight to your core. “yes,” you breathed, barely a sigh.
he let out a shaky, grateful gasp and surged forward. his hands gripped your thighs as he hooked his fingers into the sides of your underwear and slowly pulled them down, his eyes closing for a second as if he was in prayer. and then his mouth was on you.
it wasn't rushed or clumsy. it was slow, deliberate, and utterly devastating. he explored you with his tongue, learning every fold, every sensitive spot with an artist's focus. he took his time, building a slow, burning fire deep in your belly that made your toes curl. it was overwhelming, the intensity of his focus, the way he seemed to be getting as much pleasure from this as you were.
your hand flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as the pleasure mounted, higher and higher, a tight coil of heat ready to snap. the pressure built until it was almost unbearable, and your fingers clenched, pulling hard.
he stopped instantly. the sudden loss of sensation made you gasp, your eyes flying open. panic seized you. "oh my god, did i hurt you? jungkook, i'm so sorry, i—"
he looked up at you from between your legs, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes hazy with pleasure. there was no pain on his face, only a dark, blissed-out need. "do it again," he rasped, his voice rough. "please. pull my hair again. i liked it."
your breath hitched. he liked it. the thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. hesitantly, your fingers tightened in his hair again, pulling harder this time. his eyes fluttered shut, a low moan escaping his lips before he dove back in, his mouth more demanding, more hungry than before.
with his plea echoing in your ears, you stopped holding back. you tightened your grip, a sharp, deliberate tug that pulled a ragged, beautiful sound from his throat. he didn't flinch away; he leaned into it, his whole body shuddering with what you now understood was pure, unadulterated pleasure.
and then his mouth was on you again, and the world narrowed to this single, devastating point of contact. he was so sweet about it, so devoted. every movement of his tongue was a prayer, every gentle suck a promise. he wasn't just trying to get you off; he was trying to prove something, to show you with his mouth what he couldn't yet find the words for. he was showing you that he was yours, completely.
the contrast was intoxicating. the harsh sting in his scalp from the way you were pulling his hair, and the soft, reverent way he was worshipping you with his mouth. you could feel his moans vibrating against you, little whimpers of pleasure that he couldn't hold back every time you tightened your grip. he was getting off on this, on the pain, on the submission, on the taste of you.
"jungkook," you gasped, your head falling back against your soft pillows. your hips started to move against his face, chasing the friction, the building pressure. you weren't thinking anymore, just feeling. feeling the heat coiling in your stomach, the tingling in your limbs, the overwhelming sweetness of his utter surrender.
he sensed you were close. his movements became more focused, more determined. his tongue found that perfect, sensitive spot and circled it relentlessly, while his lips sealed around you, sucking with a gentle, insistent pressure that made your vision blur. you pulled his hair again, harder this time, a sharp, possessive yank that made him cry out against you.
the vibration was the final push. the coil in your stomach snapped, and pleasure crashed over you in a blinding, all-consuming wave. you cried out his name, your body arching off the wall as you came, your fingers still tangled tight in his hair, holding him to you.
he didn't stop. he stayed with you, his mouth gentle now, lapping at you softly, helping you ride out the aftershocks until you were limp and trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. he finally pulled back, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his face flushed and slick, his eyes looking up at you with a look of such utter adoration it made your chest ache.
he looked completely blissed out, like he'd just been given the greatest gift in the world. "was that... was that okay?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
you could only manage a breathless nod, your fingers still stroking through his hair, now gentle instead of pulling. "more than okay," you managed to say, your voice soft. "jungkook... that was perfect."
he looked at you, a fine tremor still running through him. he was wrecked, his lips swollen and his eyes dark with a desperate, possessive hunger.
"please," he whispered against your lips, the word a raw, needy sound. "i need to be inside you. please, i need to feel you. i need to know you're mine."
you answered with a nod, and he quickly crawled up over you, his body covering yours. he settled between your legs, his hips pressing forward, the hard length of him straining against his jeans. he was trembling, his breath coming in harsh, uneven pants.
"are you sure?" he asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like a plea for you to confirm that this wasn't a dream.
instead of answering, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down, guiding him to your entrance. he gasped as he slowly pushed inside, his eyes rolling back, a high, broken whine coming out of his mouth. he filled you completely, a perfect, aching stretch.
he didn't move at first, just stayed there, buried deep inside you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. he was trembling, his breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. "don't let go," he whimpered, his voice muffled against your skin. "please, don't ever let me go."
"i won't," you promised, your hands tangling in his hair again, this time in a gentle, grounding hold. "i've got you."
that seemed to break something loose in him. he started to move, slowly at first, then with a little more confidence. his thrusts were deep and deliberate, not fast, but full of a desperate, aching need. he was making love to you like it was the first and last time he'd ever get to do it.
every sound he made was a whimper or a moan of your name. "you feel so good," he'd pant, his voice breaking. "so much better than i ever imagined." he was clingy, his hands never leaving you, one gripping your hip, the other laced through your fingers, holding on for dear life. he was needy, seeking your mouth for kisses between ragged breaths, his eyes constantly searching yours for reassurance.
the intimacy of it was overwhelming. this wasn't just sex; it was a confession. it was him laying himself bare, giving you every broken, desperate, devoted piece of himself. and you took it all, holding him close, meeting his thrusts, whispering soft words of encouragement against his lips.
"say it again," he panted, his voice thick with emotion. "tell me you're mine."
"i'm yours, jungkook," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "all yours."
the words seemed to fuel him, his thrusts becoming a little deeper, a little more possessive. he was still sweet, so needy, but there was an edge to him now, a desperate need to claim you, to mark you as his own.
"mine," he sobbed, his rhythm faltering as his own release started to build. "you're all mine."
you came first, a quiet, intense wave of pleasure that washed over you, pulling a soft cry from your lips. feeling you tighten around him was his undoing. he buried his face in your neck again, his body shuddering as he found his release, a broken, beautiful moan of your name spilling from his lips.
he collapsed on top of you, his full weight pressing you into the mattress, but you didn't mind. you held him as he trembled through the aftershocks, his face still hidden in your neck. you could feel his tears, hot and silent against your skin. you just held him tighter, stroking his hair, whispering that it was okay, that you were here.
after a long moment, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. his face was tear-streaked and flushed, his eyes red-rimmed but shining with a light you'd never seen before.
"stay," he whispered, his voice thick and hoarse. "please... just stay with me tonight."
you reached up, gently wiping a tear from his cheek with your thumb. "i'm not going anywhere," you promised softly. "i'm right here."
he let out a shaky breath, a small, watery-eyed smile finally gracing his lips. it was the real one. the one that was like catching sunlight in your hands. and it was all for you.
author’s note: thank you for reading! i hope you liked this, because idk how to feel about it!!! i’ve been wanting to try writing sub!jk so i hope it worked out! if you liked this, please check out my other fics<333
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