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untitled // jjk

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: roughly 10.2k

categories: smut, sub!jungkook, edging, spanking, pegging, overstimulation

You trail your fingers down Jungkook’s left arm, fingers curling around his wrist when you near his hand and you hear him exhale impatiently.

“Kook,” you say quietly.

You lift your eyes to examine his face, to gauge his reaction, his acknowledgment of your voice.

His big eyes flicker up to meet yours and he pouts. “What?”

Before you can speak, lips parting already, Jungkook cuts you off again. “If you’re going to ask again if I’m sure… I am. I already told you. I keep telling you. Why are you so nervous?” he frowns. “It’s not something totally new… Just different.”

“What if I’m, like, bad at it or something?” you inquire, frowning right back.

It’s a weird moment. Not because of the sitting and frowning at each other, that’s relatively normal. You’re straddling Jungkook’s hips, he’s bare underneath you, and every so often he’ll nudge his hips forward and breathe out again and you’ll have to move up, squinting at him in a warning manner while you twist your fingers painfully in the sheets, willing away the hot interest coiling in your stomach; this is exceptionally normal. But the two things combined, plus an almost casual conversation on top of it all is weird.

“Is it you that’s not sure?” he retorts. But his gaze softens and he wiggles his wrist out of your grip so he can lace his fingers through yours instead. “How could you be bad at it? It’s easy, I do it sometimes, when you ask.”

“Yeah, but you’re you… You’re, like, natural,” you scoff, a little more irritated as you try to stifle a giggle, but you soften at his sentiment. But you don’t want to giggle right now, you want to be serious.

You see him roll eyes and then he does nudge his hips forward like he usually does, and you falter, mouth opening again a little bit and you’re unable to make out what you had just been thinking of adding. You fail this time to push his hips away from yours, into the mattress, and scold him for fidgeting when you already told him not to.

“I want it. I want you,” he says firmly, and this time is voice is serious, but in a different way. The determination in his tone is dripping with desire as much as it is annoyance.

You know you’ve been putting this off, you’ve been avoiding this, even when you had already agreed and Jungkook was so eager and he would always bring it up, would always ask and beg and whine and how could you possibly say no to him when he looked and sounded so pretty? You would do anything for him, you know that with every particle of your being, but that doesn’t stop you from being scared, nervous for yourself. What if you felt uncomfortable? What if you couldn’t do well? What if you couldn’t give him what he had been hoping for?

You know you are thinking too much about it. You and Jungkook like to experiment, which normally means going off of any whim Jungkook finds or sees online or even comes up with himself. You try anything at least once (there were obvious exceptions that you avoid considering at all costs, of course). And usually, things work out. Jungkook’s eagerness fuels your own excitement, your willingness to appease him, and your comfort with it all. You trust each other. You shouldn’t be doubting this, you want this, you want to give Jungkook what he wants so badly.

For him, you want to stop putting it off. It’s all he’d been talking about for weeks. He even bought the damn thing already.

You couldn’t lie as far as admitting that it did turn you on. When he initially brought it up, you had immediately agreed. He had looked nervous, he had been worried you would refuse, because often some people thought it was a little far fetched, a little too much. However, when you initially looked just as invested as he was, it drove him to become even more excited. Who were you to deny his smile, his earnest desire?

He had clasped his hands together, grinning excitedly and told you that the two of you could talk about it more. You had been excited, really. When he expressed his desire for you to fuck him, when he painted the image of himself on his knees, spread out beautifully in front of you, you were easily captured by the illustration and you dove in to kiss him, to tell him yes over and over and whisper about how wonderfully hard you would make him cum.

Even afterwards, when you seriously contemplated it, you were hooked on the idea. But now, the actual implementation seems daunting and the only thing holding you back is yourself and your overwhelming desire to do everything just right for him, your fear of disappointing him.

Finally, you find your words again and you sigh. “I want it,” you echo him. “Really. I just want to be good for you. I want it to be everything you want.”

Jungkook giggles when you lean down to kiss him again softly, “Don’t I usually say that to you?”

You roll yours eyes and pull back. “Y’know what, maybe I will back out!” you threaten.

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he grabs your hand quickly, afraid that you’re being serious. “No! No… I want this. Please. So badly,” he breathes out, bottom lip pushed out into a pout.

For a moment, you’re silent, just looking at him, until finally you nod and you say, “Okay.”

It’s as simple as that. Everything feels like it had sped up again suddenly, like you pressed play on the scene you’d left off on.

You’re thankful you’ve already undressed him, it wasn’t much work because on Friday nights you normally do things like this, so he’ll sit and wait in bed in usually just his underwear, enthusiastic, welcoming, and always so, so impatient, until you get home and finish showering.

It also leaves the opportunity to undress yourself now. You peel off all the garments you’d adorned yourself in that morning, carefully having picked a nice outfit for work, gone to waste now, until you’re just in your underwear. Then you climb back over his lap (he had been sulking against the pillows impatiently, even while he had been watching interestedly), you don’t fail to hurriedly tangle your fingers back in his dark hair and pull him up more so you can kiss him ravishingly, other hand cupping the bottom of his jaw.

That’s the way the night had begun before you interrupted it with your insecurity (you hadn’t quite voiced it, but Jungkook had easily picked up on your weariness). You had joined him on the bed and kissed him quickly, hungrily, and had been answered with needy kisses and beautiful, muffled whimpers floating into your ears. Jungkook was eager on most nights, but tonight especially he was excited. His hips pressed up into yours in a nonverbal plea, he so badly wanted to be touched. The way you knew he liked, the way you knew he wanted. You hadn’t stopped him then, just savored his wanton motions until your actual hesitation came forward.

Now, after your discourse, you are more than hopeful to jump back in where you had left off. You are selfish, oh so selfish when you are having sex with Jungkook. Not for your sake, but for his own. You crave his pleasure so badly, to watch him come undone beneath your touch, to gaze upon his features as his eyes well and his lips part and he whines like a fucking angel or something. All you really know is wanting to touch him, to pleasure him, until he begs for a cessation, claiming he can’t possibly take anymore, bordering tears, sometimes already beyond, and then you stop and curl up around him while he whispers thank you, and I love you, over and over.

It’s selfish, to thrive off of someone’s pleasure so much, to crave it so badly that it becomes your own and sometimes all you can think about is being with him again and touching him, watching him, to want to touch him so badly because you know he deserves the pleasure more than anyone, because you want him to feel so good and you want to be the reason. So selfish.

But Jungkook never seems to mind. And you don’t mind that sometimes your own pleasure was a little short lived. Not that Jungkook didn’t offer to return the favor. You certainly don’t go out of your way to refuse if he is ever especially adamant about his desperation to touch you and taste you and compensate for how good you made him feel.

When the two of you did start having sex, months into your relationship, the two of you had, of course, talked it through beforehand. It didn’t take long to find out even more about Jungkook than you did before: his submissive tendencies, the depraved ideas and thoughts he had for you, his almost insatiable craving for just about anything as long as he could at least cum as a result, the way he liked to be made to feel small even when he dwarfed you, and so much more.

He even spoke to you about the extent of his sexual appetite, explained that after years of suppressing any sexual desire, a consequence of religiously and socially institutionalized shame, he felt like he had some catching up to do. He opened up about the initial embarrassment he felt when he started thinking about potentially not wanting to dominate a partner, even when his more masculine features like his muscles and his stature would make others deem him otherwise; he would much rather be the one succumbing to edging, overstimulation, degradation, god, anything. He wanted to be thrown around, to be toyed with and manipulated, but even more so to be taken care of. You had been with him, supporting him and helping him when he was coming to terms with his desires, and while you did, you realized you wanted so badly to be in the context of his fantasies.

Hearing him be so open had ignited something in you like a wick that extended from your dry throat to a hot, zealous coil in the pit of your stomach. You think that after that conversation, you and Jungkook hadn’t really ever had bad sex. It was enjoyable for the two of you in more ways than just one. Sure, there had been blunders and moments that looking back on made the two of you laugh, but you had fun. You both incite comfort and need from each other, and you don’t think you’ll ever need anything else, or ever be bored.

You’re broken out of your thoughts as soon as you break the messy, wet kiss. Jungkook is keen, whines in complaint when you pull away, and you feel his hips stirring underneath your weight, pressing upwards, and you resist the urge to shudder and whimper in response. Your hand slides down from his jaw to find a place on his hip, pressing him down against the mattress to which he just grunts again in response.

You know Jungkook is agitated. As soon as you had gotten home, he was already waiting for you, but you made him wait another twenty minutes just so you could shower (though he did almost sway you by greeting you immediately with a number of warm kisses and tempting gropes). Afterwards, of course, you’d climbed onto the bed with him and you were immediately met again with a barrage of sloppy, uncoordinated kisses, only interrupted when he would break away to mumble something unintelligible about how intensely he was longing for you to just finally touch him.

When you had finally gotten him undressed, discarded his clothes off the edge of the bed, his fingers were pulling and fisting the sheets as he looked at you impatiently. His cock was laying thick and heavy against his abdomen and it was then you really felt your own arousal pooling. But, it was his expectant look, his wet lips parted, slightly downturned in another convincing pout, a look that normally softened your demeanor, that threw you off. You got into your previous discussion when you tried to convince yourself to move past your hesitation, to somehow achieve some acquiescence, only once you had climbed onto his lap to have some leverage over him and start to tease him. But he’d so quickly realized your reluctance and so he stopped you, despite how just a minute before he had been so avidly vying for your touch.

His arousal had dwindled while the two of you had been talking. He had been impatient, yes, but your full desire to want to participate was more important to him. He wanted you to be completely on board, not doing it just for his sake.

Now though, returning to your normal behavior is drawing him out of his shell again and his hips are straining up against yours even when you had already shut it down the first time. “Jungkook,” you say warningly, eyes flickering up to take in the expression on his features, his normally wide eyes are half shut, lidded heavily as he peers up at you dubiously. He knows when he’s pushing his boundaries, the unspoken rules you have (which he loves that you have), and he almost always gives you this look when he is.

“You’ve already kept me waiting so long,” Jungkook retorts smoothly, as if he’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity to say those words, to cater to your guilt in a way that would soften you and make you give in already. Sometimes this type of emotional manipulation worked, other times his attempts to weaken your resolve would result in even more consequences for him.

Jungkook had always been a little bratty, stubborn and whiney. Normally, that kind of thing turned you off. You weren’t fond of “taming” a sub or fighting for any kind of control when it was just gonna end the same way and you’d, of course, be in control. It’d become too repetitive. But, even from the beginning, with Jungkook, you had never felt that way. God, you’d let him light the apartment on fire if he really wanted to. He became especially cocky after he realized how aroused just watching him, being the one to pleasure him, made you. You let him get away with a lot of things, not just small instances like fidgeting too much; you liked the coy grin he would look at you with when he knew he was pushing his limits. You just as equally liked asserting your control, though.

“C’mon, please,” he continues, his voice lilting easily into a whine. “I want it, I want you, I’ve been waiting so long. Not just today, but weeks, for this,” he complains doggedly. “Want you so bad. Want you to touch me,” he practically purrs, eyes narrowing even more and his lips curving up into a smirk.

Usually, his pleading would sway you at least a little, but you’d told yourself recently that you needed to stop being so lenient with him. Besides, if he wanted this so badly, you wanted to make the most out of it. So, you shake your head and retaliate with your own smug expression.

“Not tonight, Kookie. We gotta make the most out of this, don’t you think? I don’t want to rush it. Want to make you feel good, make it worth your while,” you hum.

Your hand tightens on his hips, fingers curling and nails pressing indents into his soft skin. Meanwhile, you lean forward to kiss him again and silence what will surely be an adamant protest. Your other hand, though, slides up his side before coming to a rest against the right side of his chest.

You pull away from the kiss as you pinch Jungkook’s nipple between two fingers, and he exhales sharply, shudders and whimpers, arching up slightly. His chest had always been sensitive, and you often took advantage of that by pinching and teasing his nipples. You’d always receive a rather vocal response, and if he wasn’t already turned on, it would certainly start getting him there.

“Fuck, ah, please touch me,” Jungkook whines, hips jerking up despite the hand you have attempting to hold him down. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels the rough texture of your underwear brush against his cock for just one vaguely pleasurable second before both of your hands are pressing into his hipbones and pushing him down firmly into the mattress.

“Jungkook,” you say his name again warningly. You wait until his eyes have fluttered open again and he’s trying to look at you with at least some focus. “If you want me to touch you, you’re gonna have to be still.”

He looks less like he wants to protest and more like he wants to comply, and you know it must be because he doesn’t want to push too much like he normally does, because he really has been waiting for this and he’s just desperate.

Finally, he nods, and musters a soft, almost broken mumble of “I, uh, okay. I’ll try.”

You grin in response and lean in close to kiss him again, softer this time. “Good, Kookie. The better you are, the sooner you can get what you want,” you tell him when you pull away.

You wait until he nods again and he settles complacently against the mattress. Then finally, you lean up and kiss him again more roughly while you slide both your hands up his sides. He whimpers into your mouth when he feels both of his nipples being toyed with now, pinched, pulled, borderline abused, and it takes a lot of his willpower, if not all of it, to not arch his back and press up against your hands needfully. It’s a fleeting moment, though, and as soon as you’re touching him, you draw your hands back.

“You’re already doing better, Jungkookie. You’re so good,” you purr. You shift downwards so even if he were to jolt his hips upwards again suddenly, he wouldn’t be able to rut against you even briefly.

He whines at the loss of contact, but he’s cut short as you drag your lips down his jawline, pausing occasionally to leave messy, open mouthed, wet kisses against his pale throat. Your own eyes flutter shut momentarily when you feel the vibration of a low groan rising from Jungkook’s throat as you suck on a tender spot just below his ear.

“Please,” you hear him say, his voice breathy and a higher pitch than normal. You almost feel bad for taking your time, but then again you have no intentions of really pleasuring him so soon. But still, if there’s one thing you love most about having sex with Jungkook, it’s how vocal he is, and you’d never ask him to muffle himself. Hell, you had a voice memo of his pathetic whimpers and high pitched moans from one of the times he had taken your vibrator and held it up against his cock until he was cumming in long, white spurts against the toy and in between his fingers. Sure, you had some pictures too of how pretty he looked with the little pink toy as he dragged it over the slit of his cock, and his expression as he gasped, but you were much more fascinated by the recording.

You continue your descent down the column of his neck, he exposes more skin to you as he throws his head back against the pillow. You only focus your attention on the delicate skin of his throat for another few seconds before your lips are running over his collarbones, sweeping over his sternum until finally in an excruciatingly slow movement, you connected your mouth to one of his nipples. The pale, brown skin puckered under your tongue laving over the sensitive area, and the only reason you pulled away was to give the other side of his chest equally as much attention. All the while, though, you were listening acutely for the bitter pants and choked out pleas he was trying to make out. As you turn your head slightly, you’re aware of his hands clawing and wringing the soft duvet cover. You can just imagine the tension he feels in his muscles as he strains to control any abrupt movements that would get him in trouble, would potentially result in tight restraints circling his wrists, snaking around his waist or over his shoulders and then he definitely wouldn’t be able to move; it would just push his impending release even further out of reach.

“Jungkook,” you say suddenly, pulling your mouth away and he whines shortly. You brush your thumbs over the taut skin of his nipples continuously and he’s barely able to raise his dark, unfocused eyes in your direction. You beam down at him and tilt your head to the side as you regard his appearance. There’s already a faint sheen of sweat forming along his hairline and every once in a while you see him flick his head in an attempt to flip his hair away from his face. He hadn’t cut it recently and his dark hair had quickly started growing out, falling into his eyes, and making him complain, yet he never did anything about it.

“You look so pretty for me, sound pretty, too,” you finally continue. “Want me to finally touch you? ‘M sure your little cock is so desperate for attention, huh?” You hear his breath hitch and as you wait for him to finally form some coherent response, you brush your lips over his soft tummy.

“I, uh, f-fuck, yes, yes, please,” he stammers, fingers tensing as he mangles the sheets. “God, please, I want you to touch me so bad, I need it,” he breathes out. “Wanna cum so bad,” he whines.

You just nod in acknowledgement, but you don’t think he sees, because just as you do, his eyes shut again and he twists his head away.

“Will you be good if I start touching you?” You pause and use one of your hands to grip his jaw and pull his face until he’s looking up at you again. “Jungkookie, open your eyes, look at me,” you order. “…Will you be good when I touch your little dick, think you can hold yourself back?” you say firmly, eyes narrowing critically.

Jungkook almost looks alarmed as he peers up into your face, but he should know by now how serious you can get. At first, he begins to nod his head in response, but when your fingers tighten on his chubby cheeks, he whimpers and stutters, “Y-yes, yes! I’ll be good. Wanna be s’good for you.”

Your expression softens again and you grin. “Alright, angel. I’ll touch you,” you drawl, “I know you’re a good boy. But even if you’re good, you can’t cum until I say so, okay? If you do, you’re gonna have to wait even more and I know you won’t like it. Baby’s always so impatient. So needy.”

Jungkook almost nods again, but he quickly finds his words and mutters a soft “okay” in agreement, even when his heart sinks into his stomach. He feels pathetic; he’s achingly hard already, has been from the beginning, but even more so now that you’re finally talking to him and touching him. He doesn’t want to wait, but he knows he has no say, and he doesn’t want to use his safe word for no good reason. An even worse punishment would arise the next time if you find out he used it just because he was too impatient. He knows he has to be good, though, and he likes being good, knows he can be good, and then he’ll finally get what he so desperately craves. He just wishes he wouldn’t have to wait so damn long for his good behavior to pay off.

You press a lingering, chaste kiss against the soft, pale expanse of his tummy before you sit up again. “So cute,” you remark as he blinks up at you sedately.

You place one hand against his hipbone, while the other wraps around the base of his cock. Immediately, you feel him tense beneath you, muscles tight as he fights to keep still. A breathless, drawn out moan comes from his mouth and his eyes flutter shut. You assume he opens his mouth to beg, again vocally express how fraught he is, but another whimper bubbles up from his throat and cuts him off as you stroke your hand up just once, as if testing the waters. There’s beads of precum forming and beginning to drip from his tip; you want nothing more than to envelope the head of his cock in your mouth and taste him.

“Jungkookie, you look so pretty,” you sigh as you move your hand. You swipe your thumb over his slit and slick the precum down his length to ease the friction of your grip. He still lets out the occasional gasp, a stuttering breath, a breathy, tempting moan more often than not. You always keenly listen to the noises he makes, it’s your favorite part of touching him, being with him, and by now you know the types of reactions he has depending on what’s happening.

For instance, whenever he’s fucking you, whenever he has somewhat asserted himself as more in control (which is not particularly often, usually only when you don’t want to dom), his voice will get lower, drop almost more than a whole octave and he’ll let out puffs of air more often than he’ll groan or grunt or make any more guttural noise. His normally more delicate, softer sounds change completely when he’s just slightly more dominant. You find it amusing.

On other occasions though, most of them anyways, his vocals are certainly more unrestrained. He’ll whine and beg and cry out all he wants, unashamedly, just as long as it gets him what he wants. Not to mention, he’s certainly already aware of how much you love the noises he makes. Sometimes though, he’ll be even more expressive by simply talking back, stepping over boundaries and purposely putting himself in trouble to elicit a reaction. Those are the nights he’s the loudest.

Oh, and your favorite: when he’s about to cum, his breath and his voice will catch in his throat, he’ll squirm and twist as if he’s trying to move away, and his eyes will squeeze shut like he can’t bear the feeling. Normally, when he reaches his orgasm, he will fall mostly silent save for some scattered, heavy exhales and broken, high pitched, half audible moans. It’s not quite the most vocal part of the night, but it’s your favorite part due to the expressions that adorn his features and the glowing flush of his chest and his face just after; this saying nothing of the silly, contented smile he’ll give you when the two of you are finished and he can curl up against you peacefully, breath still a little fast and your bodies warm.

You lose your train of thought when you hear a short, sharp moan escape his puffy lips, and you know he’s on the verge of an orgasm without a coherent word of warning. Your hand stops abruptly and you squeeze your fingers around the base of his cock, just tight enough to stop his orgasm in its tracks, and induce a drawn out, helpless whimper. You’re surprised he’s still able to keep himself still.

“Please, please,” he starts babbling mindlessly, eyes struggling to open and he lifts his head up as much as he can for just a second before it flops back against the pillows. “I want to cum so bad, just please,” he stammers.

“Jungkook, I told you you’d have to wait, didn’t I?”

He starts nodding his head vigorously, but it takes until your hand squeezes again warningly until he gasps and is able to make out some kind of a “yes.”

“I just, ah, I wanna cum so bad, I’m so close,” he whines, his voice cracking in spite of his desperation.

“I know, I know, Jungkookie. Just be good for me like I know you can. I know you want to be good. You just have to be patient,” you croon, leaning forward to faintly brush your lips over his.

You give him a few seconds to recuperate, he shifts just slightly against the mattress, presumably making himself more comfortable, and you don’t say anything. But then your hand loosens and you’re moving it around him again, thumb brushing over the flushed head which is leaking precum. His hips suddenly stir as he lets out another subdued whine, and your hand tightens again.

“Kookie, what did I say?”

“To- To stay still,” he sputters almost immediately, as if he were prepared for the pause when he realized he moved.

“Exactly. Be good,” is all you say, and he whines in acknowledgment, maybe out of complaint, too. He’s not particularly thrilled that you are hesitating to touch him, he just can’t resist fidgeting, his body and his blood are buzzing.

He tenses when you continue, you can feel him trembling in the slightest underneath you as he strains to keep himself still. You almost feel bad, almost; the extent of his whining and his begging, however, spurs you on. You think a soundtrack of just his voice and the small, expressive whimpers he musters would be your first choice if you could only listen to one thing.

Jungkook is reluctant to express any sort of warning that he’s even close, that he can feel himself on the brink of orgasm, his stomach swarming with heat, but he does anyways. He knows if he cums when he isn’t supposed to, well, it just wouldn’t be worth it. It wouldn’t be a fulfilling orgasm, not to mention he probably wouldn’t be given a second. Instead, maybe a rather dissatisfying penalty.

“I, uh, I’m close,” he breathes out, his voice rising, faltering, melting into a muted, cracked whimper. He hopes that you’ll let him cum, that you’ll stop, just for tonight, with this laborious routine and just get to the main event. But he knows better by now, for all the times he’s hoped, that on normal nights like this you are unwavering. He adores it, it’s just what he wants, but he wishes he didn’t have such an insatiable craving for this treatment, even when he’s complaining about it.

Almost immediately after he speaks, your hand pauses again, tightening around the base of his cock and Jungkook whines out loud again.

“Please!” he exclaims. There is an ache pervading through his body, just under his skin; whether it’s because of the tension in his belly from his stifled orgasm, or his hands as they twist and wrinkle the sheets roughly, he doesn’t know.

Despite his protests, his whines and complaints, you continue the slow persecution of edging him until there are big, hot tears brimming on his waterline and his breath and his voice are stuttering. “Please, please, I can’t, I-“ his voice breaks off into a mix of a tortured moan and a sob, and he throws his head back. “F-fuck, ah, please let me cum.”

There is sweat beading along his hairline and his scalp, in the folds of his elbows and his knees, he feels so hot all over, and, god, he wants nothing more than a release. He is long past feeling any shame for being so vocal, for begging, and whining, and gasping while he’s having sex; now he’s certainly past that point. He’s desperate and he would do anything at this point to be able to cum.

“Jungkookie,” you coo soothingly, pressing soft kisses against his collarbones and his soft, feverish cheeks. “You’re being so good, you’re doing so well. You’re okay, you can do this, you’re almost done, I promise,” you whisper close to his ear.

Really, it hasn’t been too long, maybe 15 minutes, maybe even 10. You wouldn’t push him past the point of needing to use his safe word, but you love doing this to him: watching the tears build up in his big eyes, feeling his muscles shaking under your touch, his mouth opening to announce incoherent pleads and throaty whimpers. He was especially desperate tonight, though, and you have a strong inkling it’s simply because of how excited he is for what the two of you had been discussing doing for weeks; it’s affecting how intensely he’s reacting to your tentative touches, how close he is.

“So good, Jungkook,” you purr encouragingly while your palm strokes up slowly. There’s a faint dribble of precum leaking down the side of his cock, weaker now that he’s so strung out. But you have intentions to stop soon, to really pleasure him. The head of his cock is flushed red and swollen, sensitive underneath the soft sweep of your mouth, and he lets out a high pitched breath every time you move your hand, the brink of a sob. You’re surprised he’s managed to stay still so long, regardless of his fingers grasping the sheets and his occasional helpless head movements.

His breathing is sharp and quick, his lips partially gaping as if he’s struggling to find words, until finally he’s able to stammer out a hoarse “Please, I-I can’t- oh, fuck, I’m so close.” It’s hardly intelligible, but your hand slows down, stops, squeezes the base of his cock. He jerks his hips up into your touch and you look at him warningly despite his eyes being squeezed shut, willing back tears. You think maybe he waited too long to tell you he was close, though, or you waited too long to stop him, because just as his hips seize upwards, his orgasm racks his body. The intensity of his orgasm only slightly surprises you, he almost always peaked a little harder when he was teased more. But this time, it just looks like all the orgasms you’d prevented washing over him at once.

Now is when a few tears have escaped his eyes, trailing over his soft cheeks as his features scrunch up. His hips continue to press up into your hand, and his hands have ceased their forceful kneading of the comforter to rest, fingers splayed out. There’s nothing much you can do except let him ride it out, your hand moving around him again, until there are strings of sticky, white cum coating the lowest part of his tummy. His lips had parted while he came, nothing coming out except a disjointed moan.

You pull your hand away, move up closer so you can look at his face when he finally, after a long moment, seems to have recovered and his eyes blink open, pupils dark and blown out. He quickly opens his mouth to speak and he starts to stutter rapidly, like he can’t speak soon enough. His eyes start to water again and he looks at you remorsefully. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just- I couldn’t- I just wanted to cum so bad, but I- I didn’t mean to, really, I’m sorry, please, please still touch me, I want it, please, please don’t make me wait any longer, I’m sorry-“ he looks ready to continue his tearful tirade, chewed up bottom lip quivering, but you stop him, sitting up next to him and carding a hand through his hair gently while you press a soft, silencing kiss against his red lips.

“Kookie,” you tell him gently. “It’s okay. I know how much you wanted it, it’s okay...”

You brush his hair away from his face as he peers up at you, and for a moment he looks like he really is smaller than you, the way he likes to feel, and what he so rashly begs for you to tell him.

“But Kookie, I didn’t tell you you could cum,” you pout. He nods in understanding, he knows what he did wrong, and he wants to open his mouth and tell you please, don’t postpone anymore what he’d been so looking forward to.

You continue before he can speak, though, “But it’s okay... I won’t make you wait any longer. You’ll get what you want tonight, I promise, angel. But you were bad... So I need to punish you, okay?”

He nods and lifts his sweaty hand to brush the tears in his eyes roughly away.

“Not too much. But you deserve it, don’t you think?” you prompt him. To which he nods and breathes out a quiet “yes.”

Your hands cup his cheeks and you kiss him softly before you start directing him. “Take your punishment well and you’ll get just what you want, I promise, angel,” you whisper. “You just have to keep being good.”

A moment later you add, “I love you” to which he responds with a sudden smile despite his watery eyes and another “I love you,”

“Over my lap, Kookie,” you say, and you see familiarity light up his eyes as you say this. You sit with your legs splayed out, bent upwards a little to give him some leverage to rest against, and your back against the huge pillows resting against the headboard.

He doesn’t hesitate to move and adjust his position, getting onto his knees so he can climb over your lap, his forearms on the mattress supporting himself while his knees slide closer. He leans forward a little, enough to rest his cheek against the crumpled sheets while still keeping his ass out to you, hips brushing against the tops of your legs. You feel the head of his softened cock brush against your skin once as he adjusts himself and you hear him inhale just as it happens. You brush your hand softly from his shoulders to the base of his spine next; you’re glad he already knows just what to do, how you like to punish him for just little slip ups. But is it really a punishment if he enjoys it potentially even more than you do? You know by the time it’s over, his cock will be hard and flushed again, leaking precum all over your thighs, and he’ll be mewling and begging either for more, or for you to finally fuck him.

“Angel,” you catch his attention as your right hand continues caressing his back, his skin is pale and smooth underneath your fingertips, you love touching him. “Can you count for me?”

He nods, arching into your touch, humming in approval, even more so when your fingers finally reach the subtle curve of his butt. He should be more wary, considering this is supposed to be a punishment, but he usually finds this much too thrilling to actually dislike it. He feels hot, despite his most recent orgasm, there are still pangs of desire sparking in his blood. He knows he’s so much closer to what he wants, just a few minutes.

You can’t help but giggle as you watch him, feel him press against your hand needfully, temptingly. He wants you to get on with it already. You shift a little just so you can press a light kiss against the back of his shoulder, and he tilts his head slightly to the side so he can glance at you, and as he does you finally deliver a sharp slap to his plush skin. Not enough to hurt too much, but most likely enough to sting for a bit and leave a faint, red bruise. He edged forward a little from the unexpected force and he whimpers aloud, dropping his head against his chest and squeezing his eyes shut until he remembers what he’s supposed to do.

“One,” he murmurs, his arms tensing against the mattress while he turns his hands and digs his fingers into the sheets.

With every following spank, up until he counts to ten, his voice shakes more and more each time when he speaks, and his bitter whimpers get louder. His hips will surge forward and he’ll whine as his cock drags along your thigh. By the end, he’s hard and aching again, tip flushed and leaking a puddle of sticky, clear precum all over your thigh. There are red splotches blossoming on each side of his ass in the shape of your hand, but despite the sting, he’s still eager to move past it and finally get the pleasure he’d been so impatient to receive. At this point, you can feel your own arousal too, slick on the insides of your thighs; you might as well not be wearing any underwear. But you know you can be patient until the end.

You run your hand soothingly over his burning skin and he hums almost inaudibly. He shifts forward, pushing himself onto his hands and whimpering as he rubs his sensitive tip deliberately against your skin.

“You did so well, angel,” you tell him as you brush your hand over his spine. “Took your punishment so well. Do you still want me to fuck you?” you ask, even when you know the answer.

He nods his head vigorously, damp bangs falling into his eyes just as he closes them. “Please,” he whines bitterly. “Please fuck me. Want it so bad,” he almost slurs.

You nod silently and put a hand on his hip, gently pushing him away from you and guiding him on to his back.

“Gotta prep,” you giggle softly as you move and lean over him. You kiss him warmly before you move away again and lean over the edge of the bed to dig your hand into the top drawer of the nightstand and find a bottle of lube.

This certainly isn’t the first time the two of you had done something like this. He often begged you to finger him, and you also knew for a fact he’d fuck himself on a dildo sometimes when he was in the mood for it (you’d received a video of one occasion months ago while he was away). You liked doing it, though; you liked watching him. It seemed like his reactions were doubled when you touched him that way.

You move back and nudge his thighs apart so you can kneel between his legs. He shifts up a little bit, throwing his head back against the pillows, though he’s propped up enough to be able to look at you. His lips are parted just slightly, they’re swollen and red from both how harshly he’d been biting down on them, and from the messy kisses you’d shared in between. He looks pretty, and so, so out of it. You love watching him when he’s like this.

You briefly run your hand down his thigh until you can hook your hand beneath his knee and push his leg up slightly so it’s bent and you have a better vantage point. He follows suit with his other leg just as you pop open the cap on the little bottle. You squeeze enough of the lube into your hand until it’s dripping between your fingers, and you can rub the excess against him directly. He practically purrs in approval when he feels your fingers just barely brushing against his hole. You look at him for some kind of reassurance, but it takes little prompting until you finally push a finger into him. He sucks in a breath as you do and one of his hands curls into the sheets. Even though your fingers and his hole are slick with lube, the entrance is still tight and it takes a moment for him to adjust to even a minimal intrusion.

“Good?” you mumble, and he nods, blinking up at you. You pull your hand back, just to push your finger forwards again, and you do this until he’s eased up against your touch and he’s letting out soft moans.

“Please, I, ah, I can take it. Keep going,” he whimpers.

You comply and push a second finger in with the first; in response he moans aloud again and his eyes flutter shut. You sit further back just so you can look down, almost reluctantly tearing your gaze away from his face to watch the pretty, pink ring of muscle pressing around your fingers. “So cute, so tight, Kookie,” you say as you watch him fondly. He’s not able to respond intelligibly, just whimpers and gasps as your fingers twist and move.

Once the entrance is easy, you finally push a third finger in. You lean forward to kiss him as you do, unfortunately muffling his moans in the process. Your free hand supports you as you lean over him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip when you pull away from the messy kiss.

As soon as he catches his breath and finds his voice, he’s able to stifle his whimpers long enough to stammer out “Can I please touch you?”

You bring your eyes up to his and you see he’s looking at you in a needy way, just as much hopeful. You haven’t told him he could really move the whole time since the night had begun, and it wasn’t until he spoke that you realize how much you miss his hands on your skin. He knows just how to touch you, and he makes you feel just as good as you hope you make him feel. You finally remember and you nod while you mumble a soft “Yeah… Want you to.”

Almost immediately, he moves his hands up and places them on your hips. They just as quickly slide up so he can feel your smooth skin underneath his fingertips as he caresses your sides. His hands touch the backs of your shoulders momentarily, then slide under so he can touch your breasts. You look so pretty on top of him, he doesn’t think he ever wants to stop looking at you. He loves the way your hair is falling into your face as you look down at him, the flush on your cheeks and the tempting glitter in your eyes. He loves you so much.

You’re mostly distracted by his soft, loving touches as he pulls you closer and runs his hands up your body, that you almost entirely forget that you’re three fingers deep in his asshole. You curve your fingers up suddenly and he moans, dropping his head suddenly onto your shoulder. By now, it’s easy to move your fingers and he starts to whine, “Okay, I, ah, okay, I’m ready, I just- Please, please fuck me,” he whines. You can hear his high pitched voice close to your ear and it almost makes your toes curl. You nod wordlessly and pull your fingers out. You peel yourself away from him and get off the bed. Your own legs are trembling a little, and if you’re this shaky, you don’t think Jungkook will be able to stand at all.

Jungkook sits up, his arms quivering just a little as he props himself up, and you look at him quizzically, to which he shrugs and grins. “Want to see you,” he giggles, squinting cutely as he looks at you. You roll your eyes out of amusement when you hear his response, but you turn without saying anything. It takes you just a moment, rummaging through a few bags until you find the harness. You’d tried it on a couple times before, outside of view when Jungkook wasn’t around, so you could get accustomed to it and calm your buzzing nerves. It hadn’t worked to calm you down much, but it’d gotten you quite acquainted with it, and you know how to make the straps fit you just right so they’re comfortable and you feel like you have some control. You feel your nerves returning, your fingers shaking as you slide your underwear down, and pull the harness up instead and tighten the straps. The main strap is running just between your legs and you’re sure the fabric is already damp with your arousal, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You don’t really feel awkward or unnatural like you initially thought you would. But you’re absolutely positive it’s because you’re too horny to really care. Plus, Jungkook looks so much in awe that it’s hard to feel embarrassed in the strap on when it’s the only thing he’d wanted for almost the whole last month. You’re just wholeheartedly excited to finally give it to him.

The dildo attached to the harness is pink, of all colors. You suppose Jungkook must like it, he’s the one that picked it and brought it back, it was going into him after all. It matched the pretty, pink vibrator he was also incredibly fond of. He’d picked a pretty decent size, you supposed after the number of times of working himself open with a dildo or his fingers, he didn’t need to start any smaller.

You almost want to giggle as you look down at the toy when you finally come forward again and climb onto the bed. Jungkook looks at you, eyes twinkling with excitement, and he puts his hands on your hips, pulling you close into a rough, open mouthed kiss. “Mmph…” he starts to mumble before he’s even pulled away. “So excited. Want you so bad. I want you to fuck me,” he says clearly, maybe the most coherent thing he’d said in the last hour, and the most demanding. You almost roll your eyes again but you just silently push him back down onto his back so his head is resting comfortably against the pillows. You lean down for a second, the bottle of lube had fallen somewhere near his feet, and you snatch it back up so you can dribble more of the liquid onto the head of the dildo until the whole length is coated. The excess you, again, dip into his entrance and eagerly shivers in response to the subtle touch.

His hand somehow finds your hip again and he pulls you closer. “Please,” he says again, pouting impatiently. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

You nod in understanding, and it doesn’t take you much longer to comply to his wishes. This time you don’t kiss him before you start your ministrations. You use your right hand to guide the tip of the dildo towards his slick hole. You take it slow, wait for his reassurance before you move your hips forward and watch the pink toy sink in shallowly. His eyes shut, chin tilts up, and he whines at the sudden intrusion. It’s not much, the same stretch as your three fingers were, and he feels ready for it. He wants it so bad. “Keep going,” he breathes.

Both of your hands grip his hips again so you can steady yourself as you keep driving your hips forward, little by little. The only time he stops you, to adjust, is when the whole length is finally buried snugly inside him. His eyes had rolled blissfully back, and his jaw was slack but he was particularly silent at the moment. You can imagine just how he good he feels at the moment, and you wish you could actually feel how tight he was, clenching beautifully around the toy like he had been around your fingers, but you suppose that just watching his reaction to it, and pretty way the toy dragged against his rim as it entered was enough.

You start out like this, Jungkook on his back, just so he can get accustomed to the strap. Not to mention, you have to get accustomed to the actual function to. You’re sure your hips will be sore the next day as a result of the force it’ll take to do this. You wait until you gives you the okay before you start moving your hips. You struggle to find a pace that works, to move in a way that feels comfortable to you that still pleasures him, but after a few minutes of experimenting with different angles, you find a way that makes him moan out loud suddenly, and you shift back until just the head of the toy is pressing against him. He whines again then from the loss of contact, but you look down at him just so you can make sure. “Like this?” and he nods silently, unable to verbally respond.

You nod, mostly to yourself, since his eyes are closed, and finally, you push the toy back in and he keenly moves his hips up. “Feel good?” you add after a moment. Your hands are still gripping his hips, supporting yourself, and you turn your head a little so you can kiss the top of his knee softly. He can’t come out with any intelligible sentence to answer your question, but he’s able to grunt out an unmistakable “yes.”

You remain like this for several minutes, and you realize as you’re moving your hips that the strap running between your legs is rubbing deliciously over your clit every time you move your hips forward. “Oh,” you breathe out quietly in response, and you almost want to laugh. You didn’t think it’d feel so good for both of you. Sure, the stimulation doesn’t compare to how Jungkook touches you or the way you can touch yourself, but it’s enough. You remember, as you’re growing accustomed to the movement, what Jungkook had told you to convince you to do this in the first place, weeks ago. And the image of having him on his knees, spread out for you and moving his hips back wantonly—it’s incredibly tempting.

You move back and pull the dildo out with just a soft, lewd squish of lube and skin, midway into a particularly loud, needy whimper, which he ceases and starts to complain. “Why?! I just- Ugh, please,” he starts impatiently. You cut him off by squeezing his hips particularly harshly and moving away. “Get on your hands and knees, Kookie.”

He blinks at you for a minute as if he’s confused, but finally sits up and starts to turn and put himself in the position before you have to say anything more. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you say, to which he whimpers in response while he spreads his knees slightly. You take just a moment before you come up behind him so you can admire how he looks like this, the red prints on his ass remain from earlier, and you lightly brush your hand over the marks before your thumb brushes his hole teasingly. “Please.”

You brush your fingers along the base of Jungkook’s spine, fascinated by the way he arches up into your touch, whining loudly. You like this, you decided that a while ago when you established this dynamic: Jungkook whining and whimpering and withering underneath your touch. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. He is beautiful when is was like this, even more so than usual. You would do anything to see him like this as often as you can, make him feel so good, so you can hear his torrent of moans, watch his fingers and his toes curl, his back arch and the way he buries his face against the sheets. You think he’s opening his mouth up to beg now, but before he can, you’re guiding the tip of the toy back up to his entrance and moving your hips forward again. His mouth slackens and he’s silent now, save for his sharp intake of breath. “Fuck,” he finally exhales, “I- It feels so good, please, ah, please, keep going, feels so good,” he moans.

You’re easily becoming accustomed to the toy, finding the perfect way to drive your hips forward without it taking too much of a toll on you, as well as finding a steady pace that satisfies Jungkook. Not to mention, the steady pace also drives a new wave of stimulation over your clit every time you move your hips forward, the thick strap dragging against you causing your eyelids to flutter shut from the euphoria, and your fingernails to dig just slightly more harshly into the soft skin of his hips. It’s accompanied by the soft sound of your own pleasurable breaths and gasps, but they’re nothing compared to how loud Jungkook is.

Jungkook whines along with almost every push and pull of the toy against him, and at some point his arms start to shake so much, he has to drop onto his forearms. He squeezes his eyes shut as his body caves forward and you have to tighten your grip on his hips just so he won’t drop his hips into the mattress either. He buries his face against his arm, biting softly on his skin to muffle himself as he’s on the verge of sobbing from the pleasure washing over him.

You slide your right hand around his hip so you can wrap your palm around the base of his cock and squeeze, and his breath catches again. “Jungkookie,” you say between your own unsteady breaths. “-want to hear you. Lift your head,” you say, and as soon as he does, your hand moves along his cock in pace with the movements of your hips. He becomes even louder than, almost impossibly so, and he whines incoherently before he’s actually able to form somewhat of a sentence. “’S close, I- Ah, ‘m so close, please, fuck.”

You lean forward a little until your chest is pressing against the lower part of his back and you can drop your head to press affectionate kisses along his spine. “So good for me, Kookie, you can cum. Want you to,” you purr as you mouth against his skin, your hand still teasing his cock while you manage to maintain the force to still drill the toy in and out of him. You can feel your own impending orgasm, too. You were already so turned on just from watching him the whole night, but you were still amazed that just the rub of the strap against your sensitive clit was bringing you to the brink of your own orgasm alongside Jungkook.

He only falls silent when he reaches his second orgasm of the night. If you were facing him, you imagine his eyes would be squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth would be open, maybe he’d even be drooling onto the sheets just a little bit. His face and his chest are certainly flushed, and maybe there would be tear stains on his cheeks from just how good he feels and how unbearable the pleasure is. Even his breath stops, but your hips and your hand keep moving, working him until the end. There are big drops of white cum on his stomach and surely in the sheets, and you’re gonna have to strip the entire bed before you go to sleep. When you finally reach your orgasm, you’re well into overstimulating him, and he’s letting out pitiful whimpers and half broken sobs, he’s certainly crying now, but your hips only stop when you’ve finally cum. “Ah, ah, please, I can’t, oh, my fuck-“ he whines between his shaky sobs, while he curls his fingers tightly in the sheets and turns his face away. He only calms down when you finally stop, and he attempts to catch his breath.

It takes you a long moment to reopen your eyes and loosen your hands from his hips. Your breath is fast, you feel hot and your legs are shaking and you feel unable to support yourself any longer. Plus, you feel like your blood is still swimming in your ears, and your tummy is hot and electric as you move away. The two of you seem almost in a daze, Jungkook especially, and he just lets out a high pitched hum when you pull the dildo out of him completely and unstrap it, discarding it somewhere on the floor. He drops his hips, his stomach his smushed against the duvet, and if the comforter wasn’t already wet with his cum, it certainly was now. You curl up behind him and throw an arm over him so you can stroke his back and his hair lovingly. He just starts humming contentedly and weakly pulls his head up so he can turn and look at you.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely, pouting his bottom lip out softly while he blinks tiredly. “Was s’good. Wanna do it again.”

You look at him skeptically, and he giggles and adds, “Not right now, obviously. But, God, that felt so good. You’re so hot when you take control like that.” You roll your eyes and shrug as you brush away his bangs from his eyes. “You say that like every time.” You wait until your own legs and hands have stopped trembling to reluctantly stand and go into the bathroom to get a towel and wipe your fingers and your legs off, plus the lube in between his thighs and the cum on his belly. You’re sure he doesn’t have the strength to lift himself up, he was barely able to roll himself over (it takes him approximately two minutes to heave himself onto his back once you get up), so you know it’s your job to at least start cleaning up.

You lie next to him again after that and finally speak. “We have so much laundry to do,” you sigh quietly. He only half opens his eyes, but he does turn onto his side to curl up against you once more and rest his head against your shoulder. His hair is damp and sweaty against you, and you wrinkle your nose as it tickles your jaw, but you don’t say anything. You’re just as hot as he is.

“We have so much napping to do. ‘M so tired,” he mumbles almost inaudibly. You’re only able to make it out from how close his lips are to your ear. “You were so good,” he repeats quietly, mimicking how you’d been speaking to him the whole night, how you often spoke to him like that. “We’re doing that again. I told you you had nothing to worry for.” He kisses your jaw softly and sighs contently.

“We’re so gross right now, aren’t we?” he adds.

You just nod and shut your own eyes. “Definitely.”

“Nap first?”

“I mean… There’re some points you have made.”

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