SUMMARY. After a long, hellish week at work, the only thing you’re looking forward to doing is smoking a joint and winding down. But when you come up short on cash, your new dealer makes it clear he is as strict as he is dangerously hot. He only takes cash, and no, you can’t pay him back next time. Unless… you can find another way.
warnings. dom!jungkook x sub!reader, nasty filthy smut, NSFW, penetration, oral sex, gun play, scratching, mention of drugs, jk and reader get very high, big dick jk, buying drugs, swearing, light blood mention, light impact play, use of weapons, size kink, praise + degradation, creampie
note. i bring to you dealer jk!! i hope you guys enjoy this fic, i am super excited to share this with you and thank you so much for all the love on thirst trap and the teaser. i was not expecting it to get as much attention as it did! you guys are the best. once again, no character in this story is based on anyone in real life, this is merely a work of fiction. also please make sure to read warnings before reading, there is consensual gun play. also, please leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic! it means a lot <3
taglist. @jeonmaleficent , @jeontylv, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not
comment to be added to the taglist! 𐙚
You flipped through your wallet, then flipped through again, thumbs fumbling with the bills under the heated gaze pinning you in your seat. The low purr of the engine made it worse, like even his car was waiting on you. “I swore I had enough cash, I literally just went to the bank.”
Next to you, Jungkook sat silently, one hand steady on the wheel, the other rubbing at his chin. He didn’t say anything, staring ahead at the dimly lit street.
You cursed under your breath, hands flailing at your pajama pockets that you already knew would result in nothing at all. Between your legs was the little baggie that was supposed to transform your week—so in your grasp but slipping further and further as you realized your dire situation.
You looked up at him with an apologetic expression. “I-I don’t think I have the money.”
The tatted man took a deep breath, shutting his eyes, trying to regain composure. He chewed at his silver lip ring, in thought. “You made me drive 20 miles.”
“I know, I’m sorry! I really thought I had the cash.” Your voice cracked halfway through, palms clammy as you scrambled for excuses. “It’s just, this whole week at work’s been hell, and all I wanted was to wind down this weekend with some weed. My friend swore by you, and I guess I got too excited to check and…” You trailed off, eyes darting back to the baggie between your knees, taunting you. “And now I’m just, shit...”
Jungkook finally turned his head, eyes cutting to you. The harsh shadows of the streetlight carved into his sharp cheekbones, the strong slope of his nose, the metal glint of his lip ring. He didn’t look real. He looked like he belonged in some moody editorial. The sheer fact that this man was sitting next to you in a beat up car, jaw tight, cologne drawling in the air, made your words stumble even more than they already were.
“Can I… pay you back next time?” you tried weakly, the suggestion falling flat even to your own ears.
“Absolutely not.” His tone was flat and final. “I don’t even know you.”
You bristled, fumbling with your wallet again, your fingers trembling more from his stare than from nerves. “Okay, okay, but what about Venmo? Apple Pay? Anything?”
“I already told you.” He scoffed, low and humorless. “Cash. Only.” His eyes didn’t waver from your face, and it was unbearable, like he was dissecting every movement of your mouth.
You flipped through the same wallet again even though you knew it was useless, pretending to double-check. He didn’t even let you finish before cutting in, voice dark. “There’s nothing in there.”
Your head snapped up, heat rising in your cheeks. “So… now what?”
For a moment he didn’t answer. Then, slow as ever, Jungkook reached across the small space between your legs, his tattooed hand brushing low until his fingers grazed the baggie nestled between your thighs.
Your entire body jolted, face going bright red. “E-Excuse me!”
Unbothered, he plucked the weed back, knuckles grazing your leg with casual assertion, and leaned back into his seat. “Hit me up when you have the money.”
Desperation made your hand dart out before your brain caught up. You grabbed his wrist lightly, holding him in place. Not sternly, but just enough. The second you touched him, his gaze darkened, eyes flicking down to your fingers on his skin before returning to your face, heavier.
“C’mon,” you sighed. At the base of your neck, a deep heat settled as you took in his response to your bold move.
Silence pressed in like smoke. He didn’t move, his expression unreadable.
“You know what?” he said finally, voice measured. “Maybe there is something.” His thumb drummed once against the steering wheel before he nodded toward your building. “Let’s smoke first.”
The flight of stairs to your apartment was silent. Painfully so. The tall man loomed behind you, with arms crossed over his chest, watching you mess with your keys.
When you got into your apartment, his eyes darted around, narrowing at your sofa in the middle of your living room. “Smoke here?” he murmured, voice gravel-low.
You barely managed a nod before he was already lowering himself into the cushions, broad shoulders sinking into the fabric like he belonged there. He shrugged off his leather jacket, fluidly revealing curved colored tattoos.
You sat gingerly at the other end of the couch, a bit too far away, palms flat against your thighs. He didn’t look at you, not right away, just pulled the baggie out with casual ease, plucking at papers from his pocket. You watched in silence as he rolled with practiced precision, fingers deft and certain. When his tongue dragged a wet stripe along the paper before sealing it shut, you felt something strange ripple through your chest. He looked unfairly good doing it.
The blue flicker of his lighter caught the edge of the joint, and he leaned back, one arm slung over the back of the sofa. He offered it to you without a word.
You took it, inhaling carefully. The smoke burned hotter than you expected, clawing at your lungs until you coughed, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth.
Jungkook tilted his head, watching you with a faint curve at the corner of his lip. Then, without comment, he took it back and drew in deep, holding it with ease.
“This isn’t how I pictured my Friday night,” you admitted softly, voice scratchy from the smoke.
“Mm.” He exhaled slowly, smoke spilling like mist. “What do you do?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Accounts. Paperwork, spreadsheets… boring stuff.”
One raven brow lifted. “Numbers?”
“Yeah,” you said with a hollow sigh. “Numbers, audits, invoices. Glamorous, right?”
The corner of his mouth tugged faint, almost like a smirk. “Kind of what I do.”
You glanced over out of curiosity, tucking a hair behind your ear. “What, balancing ledgers?”
His eyes cut toward you, sharp even under the fog. “Among other things.”
“What are other things?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
He just laughed, low and quiet, leaving the question hanging between you.
Your curiosity sparked, but you didn’t press. “I only do it occasionally, you know. To relax.”
Jungkook chuckled low, smoke curling from his lips. “Doesn’t look like you’re very relaxed, pretty.”
The word pretty hit you harder than the joint did. You swallowed, trying to mask it with another pull when he passed it back. The smoke burned, but you forced yourself to hold it, coughing only when you finally exhaled. Embarrassed at how much your body reacted. Relax, you told yourself. Calm down.
“Not much of a smoker,” he observed, voice roughened with amusement.
“Yeah, well.” You exhaled shakily, settling back into the couch. “Guess I need more practice.”
His chuckle was quieter this time, under his breath, but it stayed in the air between you. The conversation slowed after that, little pauses stretching longer, words softening with the high settling in. Your cheeks felt warm, your eyes half-lidded, red and tired. You knew the high was setting in when you felt a warm rush, a lazy sweet buzz that made you feel like your fingertips were tingling. When you glanced over, you noticed Jungkook’s gaze matched yours, darker now, glassed over, a light flush coating his dewy skin. He looked pretty, in an oddly soft way.
He cracked his neck slowly, the sharp sound cutting through the grey air. When you looked back at him, his eyes were already on you, lingering too long, tracing your features as though committing them to memory.
“What?” you asked, catching a lip between your teeth. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
His jaw shifted. Finally, his voice broke the silence. “You’re very pretty.”
Heat pooled in your cheeks, and you thanked him gently, the word barely above a murmur. He nodded back, but his eyes were subdued, softer. Something in you shifted, lightly, as though the smoke had tipped you off balance.
Your eyes couldn’t stop catching on his flexed body, particularly his half clothed arms. Without thinking, your fingers brushed over the ink spiraling down his forearm.
You traced the lines until they grew bolder at a wide petalled flower etched in blue and orange. “What does this one mean?” you asked, voice quieter.
His eyes dropped to where your fingertip lingered. If he was affected, he didn’t let it show. “Protection,” he said after a beat. “It’s supposed to keep bad luck away.”
“Does it work?” you asked. You ran a knuckle over a curved petal.
His tongue darted across his lips. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
You let your touch drift upward, across the thick slope of his arm. His bicep flexed beneath your palm, solid and warm. The movement drew your breath shallow. “And this?” you pressed, brushing over a jagged black design near his shoulder.
His lip ring caught the light as he took a deep hit of the joint. “That one’s nothing. Just a doodle.”
“Kind of a waste,” you murmured, tracing it twice. “Feels like everything on you should mean something.”
That was when his hand closed around your wrist. Not tight, but just enough to pause you. His grip burned hot against your skin, as if he’d pressed the very joint between his lips against you.
His eyes flicked up to yours, decided. “What are you trying to do, baby?”
You froze, lips parting but no sound coming out. “I…”
He watched you like he had all the time in the world, not challenging your hesitance.
Your throat tightened, the words catching, so instead you let your pulse answer for you. You paused a beat, then tilted your chin up and pressed your mouth to his before you could overthink it.
His mouth was warm, unmoving at first, and for a split second you thought you’d made a mistake. Then his lips pressed back decisive, and the air left your lungs in a rush.
He tasted like nothing you expected. How could someone taste so brilliant? The musky taste of weed lingered on his tongue with the spiced freshness of cinnamon gum that it seemed like he had just recently chewed. The chilled metal sting of his lip ring danced across your lips. He tasted like magic, like a spell that was crafted just to lure you in. The kiss was anything but shallow. It was the deep depths of the ocean, the violent waves that broke apart even the strongest of ships. His tongue swirled in your mouth, his wet muscle exploring like no one ever had.
His palms pressed into your face, cradling you. Not forcefully, but stern. He kept you in place and cupped you close to him like you were the most precious thing he had.
Even through the lazy haze of what you had smoked, you couldn’t help but open your eyes to peer at the beautiful man you were kissing. His dark lashes crested his cheek and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. His eyebrow piercing caught the light and gleamed. The weed had your mind fucked, you thought, because you felt like you were kissing a Grecian statue, a man so handsome he could only be carved by an artist himself. You wanted him more than you ever had before. You nipped at his bottom lip and suckled at it, and in response he moaned into your mouth deeply. Your bite was strong enough to draw the smallest trace of blood, and the salty, delicious tang of his bleeding lip mixed into your mouth. Clearly, Jungkook liked the rough gesture quite a bit. He lowered a veined tattooed hand and gripped at your ass, kneading the clothed flesh with vigor.
When you finally pulled back to breathe, Jungkook seemed even higher than before. His eyes were heavy and glazed, and he ran his teeth over his bruised, swollen lip.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he rasped. You didn’t even have time to respond before his mouth was on you again, this time suckling bruises into the thin skin of your jaw. He was greedy for you, leaving open-mouthed kisses over the side of your face, licking and sucking at whatever skin he could find. His mouth found your neck and he licked a thick flat stripe, savoring the taste. You shuddered deeply in response and clutched at his inked bicep.
“F-fuck,” you whimpered out as he found a particularly sensitive spot at the base of your neck. He relentlessly sucked blossoming bruises you could only find tomorrow. Your hands roamed down his arms, relishing the way his muscles rippled underneath as he tensed at your touch. His hand left your ass to sweep up under your shirt to feel the honeyed skin of your belly. He dragged his nails across your abdomen, leaving trails of heat over your skin that tightened beneath his touch. You arched into his sharp caress, letting out a shaky breath.
Jungkook pulled back from your neck, his hand still up your shirt, and reached behind your head, grabbing the joint. He brought it to his flushed mouth and took a drag before pressing it to your lips. Eager to not break the delicious haze you were in, you took a deep inhale, letting the smoke fog your brain again.
“That’s it, baby.” He encouraged, “Breathe it in.”
Baby. You warmed at the nickname, smiling shyly before pointing your head up and blowing the smoke out, creating a cloud over the both of you.
Jungkook’s fingers traced your neck, analyzing the mess he made on you. “Bet you’ll stare at these in the mirror later and think of me.”
“Make more.” You leaned away from him, dragging his warm hand out of your shirt. He watched intently as you pulled your shirt over your head, your tits bouncing free and hardening immediately at the chill in the air.
“Holy fuck.” He admired, “Fucking divine.” His hands were quick to seize your tits, kneading them roughly as though testing their weight. His hand fit perfectly over them, as if they were made just to rest in the palm of his hands. He lowered his head, kissing over the swell before taking a nipple into his mouth with a deep groan. He sucked hard, his other hand twisting at the peak of your other breast. He was manhandling your tits like he owned them, like he was made to do this.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, leaning into his warm mouth. He hummed and clamped his teeth around one nipple gently and pulled. You hissed at the sweet sensation and squeezed his shoulder. A heartbeat grew between your legs, each pulse stronger than the last. Your eager hands kept roaming, squeezing wherever you pleased, greedy for every inch of him. You traced the way his shoulders curved like heavy mountains and how his triceps flexed with each teasing squeeze of your tits. Your palms slid lower, mapping the firm slopes of his arms before dipping into the surprisingly delicate curve of his waist.
Your fingers wandered further, hungry, until you brushed the thick muscle of his thighs. They were solid, unyielding, carved like rock under your touch. Heat radiated from them, and when you gave an experimental squeeze, the muscle twitched beneath your palm, alive, flexing as if in answer to your touch. This elicited a deep, primal groan from Jungkook. His thighs weren’t just strong; they were dangerous, made to cage you and hold you in place. The thought alone made your breath hitch and the ache in your core sharpen.
Your hands wandered further down, curious fingers tracing at the rough pockets of his jeans until you brushed against something cold. Solid. Surprised, you broke out of your trance and jerked forward as if you’d been burned. The haze of the smoke and lust cracked as you realized… Jungkook was armed. Your breath stuttered, your pulse went uneven. A thousand thoughts clawed at the back of your head. What the fuck were you really thinking, letting this man into your apartment? Of course he had a fucking gun; he was a dealer. How could you be so seduced by him that you didn’t even realize he could actually be dangerous?
Jungkook froze too, not because he was startled, but because he wanted to watch you. His hand stilled on your breast, lips hovering just above your skin, eyes dragging up to lock with yours. The knowing smirk he carried was gone, replaced by something darker, sharper. He didn’t say a word, just studied your face like he was waiting for your verdict.
“You really… carry that around?” you whispered, eyes glancing back and forth wildly from the thick metal and Jungkook’s unwavering gaze. Being in such close proximity to the weapon had your mind numb.
His hand never left your tits, his thumb flicking at your erect nipples with a surprising ease. “Yeah,” he rumbled. “Like I said, I do a lot of things, pretty.”
His words should’ve calmed you, but paired with the cold analytical steel of his eyes, they only made your pulse falter further. He tilted his head, catching the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.
“Don’t look so scared.” One calloused hand reached up, fingers brushing your jaw, coaxing your face back to his. “I’d never hurt you. Not unless you ask real nice.”
His smirk curved slow and timed, like he was thriving off the shift in your body. You sat up. He leaned closer, lips grazing your ear with a snake-like precision.
“Maybe,” he whispered, “you could put those pretty lips to better use.”
His hand slipped over your wrist, guiding it back toward the cool steel. He flattened his palm against your smaller one, letting you feel the real weight of the glock pressed against his thigh.
“Bet you’d look so fucking hot with it in your mouth. Like you’re sucking me off.”
Want pressed heavy between your thighs, insistent and sticky, demanding to be touched. The sound of his twisted, menacing words hit you harder than expected, and your panties started to stick to you uncomfortably, the cloth becoming damp and sticky.
“Y-you want me to put that in my mouth?” Your eyes stayed heavy on his palm flexing your hand on the gun. He reached up again, brushing a spare lock behind your ear.
“Only if you want to.” He eased. He paused, drinking up your shaky breaths and widened eyes. “You wanna give it a try for me?”
The way he asked, you would give anything a try. You nodded, squeezing your clothed thighs, and he chuckled. He leaned over, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder before issuing his command. “Get on your knees, baby.”
You stood with a sense of urgency that you hadn’t had before, not even when Jungkook’s tongue was down your throat. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes trained on your figure. Your thumbs hooked into the sides of your pajamas as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in your sticky panties glued to your mound. You heard Jungkook inhale next to you, a sound so quiet and tender you almost missed it.
The fabric pooled at your ankles uselessly as you stepped out of it. The chilled apartment air prickled over your bare creamy thighs like the room was breathing with you. When you sank to your knees the carpet’s rough pattern dug into your knee, leaving a welcoming reminder that this was real. You were kneeled in front of Jungkook, mouth ready for anything you were given.
You folded your hands before you, like you were at the altar, and peered up at him through dark lashes. Wide-eyed, trembling, yet impossibly willing. Like a baby deer stumbling into a wolf’s den. A deceitfully innocent baby deer.
“Fuck…” Jungkook cursed under his breath, his tongue sweeping over his lip ring as he took you in. “Aren’t you fucking something.”
His hand dipped to his thigh, removing the dangerous cold steel. The gun came free, gleaming in the dim light the way he did. He leaned back into the couch, legs spreading wide in a deliberate manly sprawl. The weapon rose in his grip, angled down at you, thick and girthy like it was Jungkook’s own cock.
His gaze reeled you in, heavy and arrogant, as his words spilled like smoke into the space between you. “Open up.”
Your lips parted in desire, and you opened your little pink mouth for him to use. You drew your shoulders inward, the motion pressing your tits together and straining them upwards for him to admire. His grip on his gun grew tighter, and a little vein in his temple shifted. “Lick.”
You extended your wet tongue out and pressed it against the base of his knuckle and traced the length until your tongue reached the tip. Jungkook shivered as your tongue slithered lightly over his finger. The cool metal tasted acrid like iron and smoke, but you still savored the lingering taste like Jungkook was branding you inside out.
“You’re so fucking filthy,” Jungkook admired. He reached a hand out, patting your cheek before giving you a light slap. The sting was delicious, divine even, and you moaned softly, rutting into the carpet underneath you for sweet friction.
All fear you had was gone, replaced by withering, deep desire. Jungkook angled the barrel against your lips, nudging until you opened for him again. His hand guided the heavy metal into your mouth, sliding it slow, deliberate, in and out of your mouth. The weight of it pressed against your tongue obscenely, as he fucked your mouth with it.
“Just like that,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the way your lips stretched around it. You hollowed your cheeks obediently, sucking gently, giving him the same innocent gaze like you had no idea how filthy you looked. The sides of your mouth slicked with spit, warm trails running down to your chin.
Jungkook’s breathing hitched, his thighs flexing where he sat sprawled in front of you, cock straining visibly against his jeans. He looked as affected as you were, jaw tight, veins straining in his forearm as he kept the steady movement. “Fuck… you’re killing me,” he growled.
When your spit finally dripped down your chin and onto your breasts, he stilled you with a sharp tug of your hair. You moaned at the tug and at his intense gaze. Jungkook dragged the gun free from your mouth, slick and messy, and ran the barrel down your jaw, collecting the drool that clung there. His eyes darkened further, almost feral, as he brought the weapon to his own lips. Without hesitation, he licked the steel, tasting you, his tongue running over the wetness you’d left behind.
His eyes fluttered shut for a beat as he savored it, chest rising unevenly. When they opened again, they gleamed with something wild. “Fucking sweet,” he rasped, his voice basking on the edge of mania.
The act was so obscene you thought the rush you got from it was going to make you snap in two. Your jaw dropped in shock, and you swore you could cum untouched from the action alone.
“Jungkook…” you started, the name spilling out before your thoughts could catch up.
He rested the gun on his thigh, head cocked to the side as he drank in your fucked-out expression.
“I need you.” You weren’t even sure what you meant, what exactly you needed him to do. Only that your body demanded him, begged him, craved solace from the candle burning low in your belly and dripping onto the carpet beneath you.
Jungkook went quiet, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, you thought he might haul you back onto the couch or throw you over his shoulder. But no, Jungkook was never one for the predictable. He rose, towering just long enough for you to tilt your chin up to follow him, before lowering himself to the ground beside you, like a predator crouching close to its prey. His proximity stole your breath, and you gaped at him, your need swelling until it burned the voice out of your throat. You pressed harder into the carpet, desperate to ground yourself against the slick heat gathering between your thighs.
Jungkook’s gaze flickered down, then back up, and he leaned closer, centimeters from your face. “What do you want me to do to you, baby?”
You felt like someone had strangled the air out of your lungs. Words tangled in your throat, your lips parted but no sound came out. The silence stretched, the only hum in the air the buzz of your freezer. Jungkook raised a sympathetic hand up to your face, cradling your cheek and running a thumb across the tender flesh.
“I said, tell me what you want me to do to you or I’ll leave you dripping.” The promise was sudden and harsh, sending a chill down your spine.
“N-no, no, no, no. Please touch me, Jungkook, please.” You shook your head frantically, words spilling out broken. You couldn’t be left high and dry — you’d die from desperation.
“Where, baby? How do you want me to touch you?” His voice softened as he caressed your face.
Your mouth opened, then closed, your throat catching on every word. “I—fuck, I want—I need…” You licked your lips. “Please, Jungkook. Please just—fuck me. I need your cock, I need it in me, please.”
Jungkook’s mouth curved, satisfied at your response. “That’s my girl.” His voice dropped so low it rattled through your chest.
He pressed a heavy palm to your torso and pushed lightly. “Lie down for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.” God, you wanted to feel good.
You obeyed without hesitation, laying back onto the carpet, knees up and hands resting by your side. You raised your head to watch Jungkook’s movements, not wanting to miss a single beat.
Jungkook admired you, pressing a tender kiss at your knee and running his hands up your soft thighs, squeezing the fleshiest part. “So smooth,” he huffed out.
You gasped softly as his fingers hooked into your simple cotton panties before he dragged them down your legs. The cool air hit your throbbing, heated core, and you leaned your head back, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation and relief from your ruined underwear. You glistened beautifully, your clit peeking out from your tender folds.
His breath hitched, and for a moment he stared at your arousal. His tongue fiddled with his lip ring, and he ran an experimental thumb up your slit, nudging at your clit.
“Oh!” You gasped, and he chuckled.
His palms anchored against the insides of your knees, prying you wide until you were stretched to your limit, spread helpless beneath him.
He let out a noise low from his throat. “Such a pretty fucking pussy.” His voice was wrecked with want.
You shivered and bit your lip, turning your face away to hide your heated cheeks.
He tutted. “Look at me, baby. Look at me while I make you feel good.” You locked your hooded eyes onto his.
Jungkook’s gaze was sharp and dark, so intense it pinned you to the floor more than his hands ever could. He leaned back onto his heels, one hand fumbling for the forgotten joint, the thin curl of smoke still glowing faintly. He brought it to his own lips, inhaled deep, then pressed it back to your mouth. “Take a hit, baby,” he murmured, voice smoky itself. “I want you high as fuck while I ruin you.”
You listened, of course, lips parting around the rough paper as you drew in. The burn scorched your lungs, mixing with the dizzy throb between your thighs. Before you could exhale, Jungkook pressed a lingering kiss just above your knee, then another closer to your heat, his lips trailing fire as they moved higher.
By the time he reached the softest part of your inner thigh, you were trembling, a whimper slipping out. His mouth lingered there, plush lips sucking a bruise into your soft flesh before he finally shifted, dragging his lip ring directly over your swollen clit. The sharp chill of metal against your most sensitive nerve sent you arching off the floor with a cry, the joint nearly tumbling from your fingers.
“Fuck!” you cried out, attempting to arch up, but his firm hands kept you in place. You reached one hand into his hair, not yanking but curling and intertwining with his soft locks.
That’s when he lost his restraint. Jungkook’s mouth sealed over you, tongue plunging deep, then circling back up to suck your clit with brutal pressure. He groaned into your folds like he couldn’t get enough, the vibrations rattling through your bones. Your hips thrashed, your thighs attempting to clamp him in, but he just held you open and devoured you like a starving man.
Every drag of his tongue was merciless, every suck harsher than the last. Your back bowed, your nails scraped his scalp, and the joint burned into the carpet.
The high of the weed and the high of getting devoured by Jungkook had your brain in a trance, your vision growing spottier as you babbled. “Feels s-so good, feels so good, thank you, thank you…”
His fingers dug deeper into your thighs, holding you wide open as if you were nothing but his feast. “Damn right it does,” he muttered into your folds before sucking harder, punishing and worshipping all at once. Your mouth fell open, unable to hold onto all the pleasure coursing through your body.
The fire in your belly grew, and Jungkook fed into it with each brutal caress of his tongue. The fire was so intense you could only relieve it by chasing and running away from his relentless mouth. But he kept you pinned, his well-crafted muscles and inked hands keeping you down with no effort at all. You bit down on your lip, swelling it beyond what Jungkook had done to your mouth. The fire built and roared until you were seconds from being ignited all over.
“Come on, baby.” He urged, still buried between your legs. You echoed his name as you came, every nerve engulfed in molten pleasure. The sparks of your orgasm froze your body, and your spine jerked wildly.
Jungkook eased your burning heat by detaching from your clit with a wet pop and pressing kisses on your plush folds, lapping softly at your sweet juices. When you finally calmed, your neck was covered with a light sheen of sweat and your chest heaved up and down. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain control of your body.
Jungkook released your knees and shifted forward, settling between your legs. The weight of him, still fully clothed while you lay bare and wrecked beneath him, elicited a gasp from you. Your eyes fluttered open to watch his gaze run down your flushed, trembling figure. His tongue darted out, licking your essence off his lip ring.
“One orgasm wrecked you this badly,” he murmured in your ear. You whimpered weakly, rubbing your head into his. He drew lazy circles on your hipbone, the other hand resting by your head. His eyes were red and glassed over, the high taking over him as strongly as it had you.
“Jungkook…” You breathed out, reaching one hand into his hair again. He hummed in delight as you steadied yourself, letting your fingers entangle in the longer hair at the nape of his neck.
“Come back to me, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” The promise had you shifting underneath him, eyes going wide.
“Mhm. Still gotta fuck you, pretty girl.” His nose nudged yours, the gesture gentle in contrast with his delectably dark gaze.
“Can’t waste a pussy that perfect on just my mouth,” he continued, his lip ring nudging at your lips.
Your eyes chased his before you lowered a hand, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.
“Fuck me then.” You weren’t sure if it was a plea, demand, or a prayer.
Jungkook’s mouth twitched into something darkly amused, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted back onto his knees, dragging the hem of his shirt over his head. The fabric peeled away slow, and your breath caught at the sight of him. His torso seemed like it was cut from marble, abs ridged and sharp. A colorful sleeve wrapped one arm, ink twisting over his thick muscle in bold mysterious strokes, somehow making you higher than you were.
His eyes didn’t leave yours as you reached up, fingers tentative, brushing along his chiseled torso. The muscles shifted beneath your touch, and Jungkook’s breath came out in shaky gasps, like he hadn’t expected your touch.
Then he pushed to his feet, making quick work of his jeans. His dark denim slid to the floor, followed by black boxers that clung to his well-defined waist. His cock sprang free, heavy, flushed an angry red that deepened to a beautiful blushed purple at the tip, veins pulsing thickly along the shaft. The sight alone had your mouth drying, your thighs pressing together in want. His cock was as gorgeous as him.
“C-can I…” Your voice trailed off, hand twitching upward.
His jaw clenched, the vein at his temple flexing. “Yeah. Touch me.” He lowered himself back to his knees in front of you.
Your hand wrapped around him gingerly at first, then with more confidence, stroking the velvety skin. Jungkook groaned low, head tipping back as his cock twitched in your hand. His hand caught your wrist, not to stop you but to feel your movements. Your thumb ran over his sensitive head, and you smeared the pre-cum down his shaft. He hissed in delight, his eyes shifting rapidly under his closed eyelids. You watched him, amazed like he was art itself. Jungkook’s eyes flew open when you leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his hip bone. You weren’t sure where the softness came from, maybe from the shadowed aftermath of the hits you had taken of the joint.
“You’re killing me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth.
You blinked up at him before you flattened back onto the carpet, guiding his fat cock head to press onto your soaked folds. His breath tore ragged, and he muttered a curse so filthy it made you blush. He lowered himself over you, hands on either side as you continued to tease him lightly. You gripped his shaft and slid his cock up and down your slit, and moaned gently in his ear when it nudged your clit. Jungkook was evidently having trouble restraining himself, his breath fanning out on your face each time he tremored from the pleasure. Your slick coated him perfectly, his cock glazed over in his pre-cum and your juices.
He reached down, pressing his forehead to yours, sweat dampening his hairline. “S-stop fucking teasing me, pretty,” he said weakly, his hips bucking against your hand.
You reached a tender hand up and ran your fingers along the side of his face. “You promise to cum in me?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened for a split second before darkening into something primal, his jaw flexing as if he was trying to hold himself back.
He hissed out as you let his tip rest against your fluttering hole. “Fuck, I-I’ll fill you to the fucking brim.”
Satisfied, you pressed down on his tip. The fat crown popped inside with little resistance. You moaned at the light intrusion, the sting so good, so delicious, you needed more.
Jungkook finally had enough of your feather touches. Suddenly, he gripped the sides of your curved thighs. He lifted both your legs up and pressed down under the backs of your knees, letting your thighs press into your stomach. Your ankles were in the air, on either side of his ears. Jungkook slithered between your lifted legs, hands firm at the back of your thighs, and savored the sight of your thick pussy in his clear view, glistening with evidence of how he’d wolfed down on you just minutes ago. Your swollen pink clit peaked out, and your hole fluttered in anticipation.
“Jungkook—” You didn’t have to finish your sentence as Jungkook started pushing in, knocking the air out of your lungs. The noise that ripped out of your throat was something you’d never heard, an erotic cross between a whine and a moan. To say Jungkook was stretching you out was an understatement — he was ripping you open, tearing you apart to make a mold out of you. A place in your sopping core only meant for him. The sting was so good, so filthy, so deliciously painful all you could think of was him. Jungkook hissed as he met resistance and released one thigh for a quick second to pinch at your abused clit.
“Oh my god!” you yelped, head shooting back into the rugged carpet.
“Your cunt’s choking me out,” he said through gritted teeth and pushed in more, shifting his hips side to side to make space. You were euphoric, enjoying every moment of being speared open by the handsome, inked deviant. Soon, your greedy hole started trying to suck him in, clenching and gripping around him with such intensity that Jungkook’s jaw dropped.
“F-feels so fucking good, pretty,” he groaned out, and bottomed out. His balls slapped against your ass, and he stilled, needing a second to ground himself.
“Fuck, Jungkook—you’re so fucking big,” you moaned loudly, eyes rolling back. You were so full that you thought you were going to burst. Your lower belly bulged with his cock, and Jungkook could see his own imprint perfectly. He couldn’t take it anymore; he shifted his hand back to the back of your thigh and pulled out till his balls slapped your ass.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice ragged.
“You’re so fucking big, my god, you’re splitting me open,” you sobbed, clenching tighter at the filthy confession.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tight, dragging your nails over his skin. He started pummeling into you with a force you had never felt before. Your body rocked underneath him, the burn of the carpet stinging your shoulder blades and spine, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered when Jungkook was burning his mark in you. Your tits bounced with each weighty thrust, and your tummy was taut in pleasure.
“Look at these,” he rasped, slapping one tender mound hard enough to make you squeak. The slap shot straight to your core. He palmed both breasts, squeezing, twisting your nipples between his calloused fingers. “Obsessed. I’m fucking obsessed. Gonna ruin them, mark them up till they ache.”
Your back arched into his greedy touch. You were for sure going to have marks tomorrow. He licked a stripe over one peak before sucking it harshly into his mouth, teeth grazing your pebbled nipple until you gasped out again. Your eyes squeezed shut so tight you could see geometric patterns, and your lips pouted out, savoring each filthy jolt of him fucking into you.
Jungkook let out a shaky breath, seeing your euphoric face. His pace turned relentless and punishing, pulling out with each stroke and shoving back in with full force. His mouth started pouring out filthy promises, causing a blush to rise off your neck.
“I’m gonna cum in you so deep, you’ll feel me for days, baby,” he vowed.
Tears pricked your eyes, the sensation of being stretched and his filthy words too much for you to handle.
“Jungkook,” you gasped, suddenly remembering. “Jungkook, the gun.”
His hips stuttered to a pause, and he stayed buried in you, analyzing your face. He panted over you, quirking a raven brow.
You let your hands roam down his solid torso and stopped where you both joined, letting your fingers brush against him. “Please, I wanna feel it again.”
The sentence and your gentle brush pulled a feral noise from his chest. He reached for it, understanding what you wanted instantly, and pressed the cold barrel against your throat. Your pulse jumped under the steel, heat and fear twisting into something intense. When he resumed his thrusts, your eyes rolled back, savoring the feeling of the dangerous object holding you down along with him.
You had to be crazy for letting a stranger point a gun at your throat, but your rational side had taken a backseat ages ago. Jungkook’s punishing strokes did the deed of pushing away any sanity, any reasoning, any thoughts you had.
Each time you leaked around him or let out a pleading gasp, Jungkook forced the gun harder against your tender throat and savored the way your head leaned against the carpet and your eyebrows knitted together in desperation. You were a mess, a shaking fragile version of yourself about to snap in half at any second. You had no doubts he could feel how close you were, and his plump cock head kissing at the spongy spot deep in you wasn’t helping. You curled into him, running away from the raw scrapes of the carpet burn starting to form on your figure, and he accepted you gladly, burying his face into your neck.
“You’re about to cum, aren’t you, baby?” he breathed out, his veined length driving into you as if it was made for you.
You nodded vehemently, arms wrapping around him and scratching down his back. Jungkook hissed in delight. The ceiling swam above you, clouded by his broad shoulders hovering and blocking anything in your field of vision. The coil in your belly was getting tighter and tighter, and your toes curled out. Salty tears ran down your chin as you felt yourself snap, a wave of unbridled, pure pleasure coursing through your body. You grasped at anything and everything he gave you, your nails digging into his lower back, his shoulders, his biceps, his jaw. His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, enjoying the piercing prick of your nails as they branded him like proof. If your vision wasn’t darkened by your raging orgasm, you would have seen the red trails blooming on his olive skin.
“Fuck, good girl, that’s it, I’ve got you.” He eased, letting his gun run down the side of your face. His thrusts slowed but deepened, and his eyes trailed over your knitted face and then his own scratched arms.
“Marked me up real fucking good when you came, baby.” He said it with a low, half-broken laugh.
You couldn’t even reply, so fucked out from your brutal peak. His powerful thrusts bounced you up and down on the carpet, and your face lulled to the side, lying flat with closed eyes. He dropped his gun by your head and grabbed your jaw with his hands, squeezing your cheeks together so your lips formed a swollen pucker.
He leaned down and kissed you, with an unexpected softness. You moaned softly and kissed back, returning from your haze. “J-Jungkook…” You trailed off.
“I want you to cum.” You urged, your eyes glazed over and bearing into his.
Your shudders barely faded before he was chasing his own high. He drove forward into you, greedy, using your limp weight as his own little toy. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, his jaw locked tight, chasing a peak with the kind of hunger that looked like it might consume him.
He pumped into you rabidly, hands balled up by your head and teeth gritted like he was hanging on his last thread of control. He used one hand to hoist your leg on his hip like you were some sort of glorified doll and drilled into you. He groaned out loudly, sweat beading and collecting at his forehead as he bullied your tight heat.
“Oh my god!” you squealed weakly as he angled into you. “Cum in me, please, please, please.” You begged.
“I’m gonna—” Jungkook couldn’t finish his warning before hot ropes of his release shot inside you.
“Holy fuck.” You gasped out and lowered your eyes, watching your sopping heat get filled up. Jungkook’s mouth opened in a beautiful O-shape, and his hips shifted as he fucked out his orgasm.
“Take it all,” he rasped, voice ruined. “Every drop.”
You were helplessly sensitive, feeling your sopping hole filled to the brim. His body rocked against yours lazily as he made sure every drop of him was squeezed out into you. He kept himself plugged in, making sure nothing went to waste. You could feel the thick veins of his length drag against you.
Finally, Jungkook stilled, resting his forehead against yours and panting, trying to catch the life that had escaped him from drilling into you at a manic pace. He slipped out, and you flinched at the sudden loss of fullness. You felt his lashes flutter against your eyelids, and he ran a large hand down your body and cupped your heat.
“Filled you all the way up like you wanted, pretty.” His voice was mesmerizing, dripping with honey, so contrary to his roughness that was on display just seconds ago.
You whimpered as his palm pressed against your swollen folds and clenched your thighs around his hand, keeping it trapped between your fleshy curves.
He chuckled at your silence. “Not gonna thank me?”
“Thank you,” you panted, words tumbling out shamelessly. “Thank you for filling me, f-fuck, thank you.”
He pressed his palm flatter against you. “You’re so welcome, baby.”
You clenched tighter around his hand until the tremors dulled, until all you could do was collapse against the floor, boneless and wrecked. His laughter brushed over your skin, low and smug, before he finally pulled back, leaving the simmer of absence everywhere he touched.
The silence after was heavy but not awkward, only your panting filling it, and then his voice cut through smooth and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just ruined you.
“So,” he drawled, brushing his thumb over your hip like punctuation. “You wanna smoke again?”
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