My Fav Writer Yall 🫶🏻

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

 And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!”  Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking. 

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor  did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog. 

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to. 

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming. 

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely. 

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him. 

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had. 

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him. 

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions. 

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands. 

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you. 

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes. 

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.” 

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch. 

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

 You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed. 

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip. 

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him. 

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become. 

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching. 

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more. 

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you. 

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips. 

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How  long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave. 

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue. 

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious. 

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted. 

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching. 

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely. 

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly. 

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed. 

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held. 

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start. 

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve  asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure. 

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend. 

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you. 

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

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the spins (explicit)

genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.

word count: 10.3k

contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀

A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.

the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜

this is now (finally) on AO3!

~*~

You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.

Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.

You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.

“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.

“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.

“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.

The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.

“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”

You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.

“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.

Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.

“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.

You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.

“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.

“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”

You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.

Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.

Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.

Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.

You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”

He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”

The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.

“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.

“Fine.”

The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.

You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”

Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.

He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.

You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”

He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”

You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”

“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”

Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.

“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.

He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.

“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”

He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.

You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.

“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.

“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.

“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”

At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.

You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?

Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.

He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”

You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”

He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”

You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.

You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.

“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.

Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.

When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.

You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.

Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.

He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.

“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.

“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.

“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.

You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”

It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.

His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.

You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.

For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.

Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”

You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”

He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.

“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”

You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.

He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”

The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.

“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.

“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”

His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.

Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.

You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.

It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Then prove it.”

Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”

You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”

In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.

“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.

“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.

It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.

You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.

You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.

Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.

“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”

“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.

“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.

It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.

You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.

But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.

For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.

“I told you I don’t like to lose.”

Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”

You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.

You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”

The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.

“Is that really how you see me?”

Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.

“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”

He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”

Your heart sinks. “Do what?”

He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”

That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.

“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.

“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."

You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”

“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”

The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.

Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”

His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”

“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.

“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.

You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”

He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”

You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”

His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”

The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”

You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.

You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”

He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.

In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.

“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.

“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”

He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.

“Then say yes.”

You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?

You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.

“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”

And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”

He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.

“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.

Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.

You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.

He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.

You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.

Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.

His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.

You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."

He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.

You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.

Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.

So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.

You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.

He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.

The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.

Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.

He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.

His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.

“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.

You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.

He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.

You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.

But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.

He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.

“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”

His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.

“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.

He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.

It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.

You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”

It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.

“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.

Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.

Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.

That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.

He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.

He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?

Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.

He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.

As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.

You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.

Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.

His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.

Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.

You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.

Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.

At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.

“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”

You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.

“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”

Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.

You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.

“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”

You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”

He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”

“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”

Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.

“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.

This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.

You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.

“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.

He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.

You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.

But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.

“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.

His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one. 

Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.

His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.

You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.

He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.

It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.

But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.

His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.

You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.

You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.

A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”

“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”

“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.

You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”

There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”

He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”

You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”

You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.

“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”

“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”

You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.

“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.”

jimin and taehyung are only two months apart but jimin sounds like hes 12 and taehyung sounds like he’s gone through puberty twice and this is why i have trust issues 

SUGA | Agust D TOUR

strawberries and cigarettes. jjk

pairing : smoker!jk x reader

warnings : smoke sesh (DONT smoke this is js fiction) , fluff , smut , making out , fingering , thigh riding , food play , use of word "slut" , short LOL

a/n : I HHAAADDD TOOOOO GGGRAAAHH

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

"Baby!"

You were so excited to finally be back home to your sweet handsome boyfriend. Working at a clothing store had its own disadvantages, sometimes you'd have really long shifts where you'd have to work for about 8 hours. It's tiring, really. But the store actually pays you a good decent amount, and you really weren't looking for another job at the moment.

You enter your apartment carrying your bags filled with a few snacks and your favourite fruit — strawberries.

"Jungkook?" You ask again, eyes roaming around your apartment looking for your boyfriend.

"Ah!" There he was. Your eyes lock on your boyfriend, fucking manspreading on the couch with a cigarette in between his middle and pointer finger. His back was leaned against the cushion of your couch, looking as comfortable as ever. What did catch your eye was the thin material of the shirt he was wearing, oversized but you could still see the outline of his abs and nipples. Your eyes then travel down his exposed tattooed arm resting on top of his thigh, muscles flexing. He seems to be eating ramen, making slurping noises each bite while his big doe eyes were glued onto the television - probably watching some show. You lean your body against the frame of the wall, quietly admiring your boyfriend.

He's the most handsome man you've ever laid your eyes on. So fucking beautiful and ethereal. Not a single flaw on his face. Even the little scar on his cheek, which he would like to address as a "flaw" was so beautifully carved. If that even made sense. But it did, for you.

Deciding to quit just staring at your boyfriend, you make your way towards the living room, your figure appearing right in front of him. Jungkook's focus quickly shifts to you, a big bright smile taking over his face.

Jungkook looks to the side to blow out the remaining smoke in his mouth before he puts the cig in his ashtray. He makes grabby hands at you, motioning you to get closer to give him a hug. Happily, you take a few steps towards your boyfriend and leaned down before he engulfs you in a wholesome hug with his muscular arms. He squeezes you tightly, pulling your body to him to make you fall right on top of his lap. A little chortle escapes your lips while you hug him back as well, your body being squished even more.

A couple of seconds of staying still, Jungkook decides to pull away for a moment to take a look at your face. Smiling, he holds your chin with his right hand, squishing your face together so that your lips were now duck lips. Jungkook leans in to peck your lips a few times, a hum of satisfaction leaving him right when he tastes the strawberry lip balm you always apply.

"My favourite" He hums as he releases your face to fall back onto the couch. "Also why I wear it" you mumble, getting off his lap to sit on the couch right next to him.

You wrap your hand around Jungkook's arm, leaning the side of your face onto him.

"How was work today?" He speaks, his left hand reaching to grab another cigarette out of his packet.

"It was alright, nothing much to say. I'm tired, though" your voice is low as you speak. You attentively watch Jungkook light up his cigarette before bringing it to his mouth to inhale. He pulls it away to blow out the smoke to the side, making sure you don't get anything on your face.

"Aw, my pretty baby" He coos, a sly grin forming on his lips. Jungkook chuckles, peppering your face with a few more kisses. You loved that about him. He was never afraid to show his affection towards you.

"You wanna go to sleep early, then? I could set up the bed for you, hm? Wanna eat something before you sleep?" He asks, wanting you to rest. You giggle, shaking your head from side to side. "Koo, I just had one shift. It's not like I climbed a mountain or something." You lean to peck his cheek as a reward.

Jungkook scrunches his nose, "still! You said you were tired" he mumbles. How could someone be so cute.

"No, baby, it's okay" Jungkook nods as a reply, taking another inhale out of his cigarette.

A small silence of about one and a half minutes fall upon us as you watch him take inhales and blow the smoke out repeatedly.

Hmm, what if I...

"Jungkook."

He turns to look at you, humming a little as a response.

You stare at Jungkook, contemplating whether to do what you're about to do or not. Uhhh.

Your eyes shift from Jungkook's face to the cigarette in his hand as you lean forward a little to snatch it from his hand. Jungkook looks at you, one eyebrow raised in surprise. Your eyes switch in between Jungkook and his cigarette a few times before you bring the cigarette upto your lips so you could take an inhale. Jungkook watches you in shock, finding your actions unusual as you never smoke. In addition to that, you used to scold Jungkook for smoking when you two had started dating at first. But you eventually stopped, saying it's alright. But now here you were, inhaling smoke out of his cigarette.

You inhale once more, shoulders dropping down as you blow the smoke out to Jungkook's face. He gasps, surprised, very surprised at your actions.

"Baby? What are you doing?" He motions at the cigarette in your hand.

"Always wanted to do this" You sigh, taking another inhale. You groan, leaning forward to lay on Jungkook's lap as your chin was now resting on his mid thigh.

He tilts his head to the side, fingers gripping onto your hair to turn your face to the side so that you're facing him.

"What do you mean?" He questions.

"Well, you always smoke. So I just thought what it would feel like to do so, you know..." you mumble, ready to take another inhale. But before you could do so, Jungkook quickly snatches the cigarette away from you and throws it into the ashtray.

"Hey! Jungkook!" You groan, sitting up from his lap.

"Baby, I am not letting you smoke—"

"But—"

"No buts, Y/n. I've told you before, it's not the best for your health. It's true that I do it but," He groans, "I've my own reasons, yeah? You though, I'm not letting you smoke" He snapped.

You mewl, lips forming into a pout once again. You look at Jungkook, your eyes big and wide as you try your best to use your little charm against him. I mean, it always worked. Your eyes stared into his, big and wide as you laid on his lap, long lashes batting against the under area of your eyes.

Jungkook scoffs, the palm of his hand coming in contact with your cheek to leave a small harmless slap.

"Not gonna work this time, baby"

You roll your eyes in annoyance, huffing a little too.

"One time only, Koo" you plead.

He shakes his head in disapproval, looking away from you. You coo, trying your best to yet your boyfriend to let you try out a few of his cigarettes. Your eyes travel down his body, landing on his crotch area. Ah, idea! The idea instantly made a mess between your legs.

"Koo..." whimpering, you lift your body up to sit on his thigh.

"I said no, baby" his voice was deep and demanding.

You slowly lift up the end of his shorts upwards to expose more of his thigh, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck in the meantime.

"Please..." whining, your hips start to work their way on his thighs. Your pace was slow - you were taking your time - watching Jungkook's facial expressions suddenly change.

"Mm, baby, please stop—"

You cut him off with a moan, knowing exactly that that's his weak spot. He suddenly groans, listening to your angelic moans. The pleasure felt just perfect. Not too rough, but not too slow. You rubbed yourself onto his thigh, small little whimpers leaving your lips.

At first, you started this to just convince Jungkook to let you have his cigarette but as you continue to do it more, you slowly start to find yourself actually enjoying riding his thigh.

"Fuck" your back is arched, angling your clit to rub against his thigh.

It's almost like Jungkook forgot, he leans forward to grab a cigarette out of the box to light it up, then to press it against his lips to inhale some in. You watch the cigarette in his hand attentively, thinking of when to snatch it into your hand.

Jungkook eyes you up and down with a smirk, — god, that LOOK — his free hand coming to hold you by your chin. His grip on you is tight, but not too tight to leave a bruise or anything — he would never. Jungkook scoffs, hand tapping your cheek as he blows smoke out onto your face. Without being able to contain your cough in, you cough a little, but still inhaling the smoke in.

Fuck, that just made you even wetter.

"Isn't that what you wanted, slut? You want me to fucking blow smoke onto your desperate ass while you get off on my fucking thigh?" Jungkook mocks you.

Nodding your head vigorously, your moans grown louder as you fasten your pace. Jungkook brings you closer to your orgasm by bouncing his thigh up and down, sending small vibrations throughout your body.

"Fuck, Koo— your thigh..." you moan louder.

Jungkook laughs at you, clearly mockingly, as his free hand lifts you up to unhook your skirt so that it would fall down. He then takes a look at your damped panties, soaked in your arousal. You look down to see Jungkook's fingers moving your panty aside to the corner to expose your bare pussy.

"Go on" he orders, taking another inhale out of his cigarette.

You nod eagerly to his words. Fuck, this felt so good. You swear you just landed in heaven, right when your bare clit makes contact with Jungkook's bare thigh, his muscles flexing against yours. Gasping out loud, you begin to rub yourself in a circular motion, desperately hoping for a release.

Jungkook holds the sides of your head to lean in to connect your lips with his, bringing you into a heated and messy kiss. You leave out a series of soft moans in return, the sound vibrating through both of your mouths. He pulls out of your heated kiss, sighing as he inhales more of the cigarette.

He seems to enjoy this. You riding his thigh trying to release oh so desperately while he watched you attentively with a cigarette in between his fingers. He never thought they'd be in this position, but here you are.

"My good girl" He praises you. Jungkook's eyes were glued onto your pussy, covered in slick and dripping down to his thigh as well. The corner of his lip curls up in a vicious idea, his body reaching forward a little to grab onto your grocery bag from earlier. You watch what he's about to do, curiously, stopping what you were doing unconsciously.

Jungkook pulls out the strawberries you bought for yourself, taking one to put it in his mouth. He chews on it, signalling you to continue with his hands and a tilt of his head.

"Give me a good show, baby" He commanded.

You gulp, raising your hips up to continue to rub myself onto him. You felt really fucking good, but not good enough to make you cum. You needed more.

Your fingers flew to the buttons of your dress shirt, unbuttoning them one by one. You discard your shirt, letting it drop to the ground as you give your bra the same treatment. A sigh of relaxation leaves you once your breasts are spilled out and free, you immediately grope them to begin squeezing them and pleasuring them.

Jungkook watches you continue to rub and tug onto your nipples, sweet moans falling out of those pretty pink lips of yours. Your pull on your nipple only to release it back then go back to rubbing it. Your head was thrown back, tilted to the side, leaned forward — in all existing angles doing 360°s.

Raising your head up to take a glance at Jungkook, you catch him still looking at you oh so carefully, his pants rock hard and buldge very prominent while he swirled the tip of his tongue around the strawberry.

Gathering a bit of saliva in your mouth, you spit it out to your chest, letting it dribble down onto your breasts and then your nipples.

"Fuck" Jungkook curses.

You rub your spit around your nipples slowly, teasingly, eyes fixated on his tongue and the strawberry.

He groans out loud, almost as if he's giving up on a mental challenge he made for himself. Jungkook pulls you closer by your hips, thumb brushing against your lower lip to pull it down as he pushes his strawberry in your mouth.

"Suck" he commands again.

You don't object, continuing to suck onto the strawberry. Meanwhile, Jungkook's big warm hands holds your breasts tightly, bringing a wave of pleasure to both your bodies. You moan, fastening your pace on his thigh. His lips were now wrapped around your nipple, sucking slowly. He was taking his time, small caresses on your waist, fingers brushing against your thighs, your hips, squeezing your arms and tugging onto your nipples with his teeth — fuck, he was taking all the time in the world.

Jungkook was savouring your body, taking his time with you to slowly edge you to your orgasm. But all of this without a single brush against your pussy. You could feel your cunt burning, begging to be touched by his long fingers decorated with those same silver rings he always wear.

"Jungkook, touch me down here, please" you plead.

Jungkook hums, releasing your nipple with a pop sound. His hand reaches down to touch your swollen bud, a long soft moan leaving you once he adds the smallest bit of pressure on it. You wanted to be touched on your pussy, so desperately. His face gave you such a mocking, sly, cocky expression as he watched your body squirm to his touch.

Jungkook's thumb caresses your bud, swiping it up and down oh so softly. He was teasing you. Your hips automatically react to it, your arousal gushing out as you grind forward into his fingers for more friction.

Your eyes half lid, looking down to watch Jungkook's fingers teasingly rub your bud slowly. It was so hot. But you NEEDED more.

"Please–"

"Shhhh, my angel"

He was aware of how desperate and needy you were getting, so he decided to have a little mercy on you let you have what you wanted.

Jungkook fastens his pace on you, thumb rubbing your core in a motion of an "eight". You were such a moaning mess. So fucking needy so that the smallest touch was enough to make you reach your high.

You gulp down the strawberry in your mouth, almost quite literally forgetting about it. Jungkook notices that, his free hand reaching forward to grab another strawberry.

While his right hand worked on your pussy, his left hand plops the strawberry in his mouth to coat it with his saliva and taking a small bite out of it as well. He then brings it back, shooting you a smirk. You moan, already knowing what the fuck he was going to do.

Jungkook drags the strawberry across your lips, smearing the juice of the fruit all over so that your lips would turn into a little pink shade. You gulp as he drags the strawberry further down your body, under and over your tits.

"Ah! Mmm!" A gasp followed by a few moans leave you the moment he enters two of his fingers inside you at once. His thumb still remained on your bud while Jungkook started to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

"Shit, K-koo. So good...!"

You gasp, feeling the slight coldness of the fruit on your sensitive areas as he circles it on each of your nipples. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You were in pure ecstasy right now. You could never get enough of how good and mind fucking blowing his finger felt inside your cunt.

All you could did and could do was to shamelessly moan out his name while he abused your cunt and played with your tits.

"So pretty, baby. Look at you, a fucking mess on top of my thighs, hm? Beautiful baby"

His praises were everything to you.

"My beautiful girl..." he hums.

You squeeze your eyes shut to open them while you nibbled on your lower lip. Your eyes scan the box of cigarettes placed on the side, contemplating whether to grab it. I mean, both Jungkook's hands were occupied, ...right?

You lean forward to grab a cigarette out of the box, Jungkook's eyes widening at the sudden action. He should've known you'd do this somehow. You never were the type to listen to whatever he told you, anyway.

"God, baby" He eyes you while you light up the cigarette with his grey lighter decorated with heart gems all over it. (by you, of course.)

You take a inhale out of the cigarette, Jungkook's fingers gently caressing your folds again to smear your wetness around.

You blow out the smoke on Jungkook's face and watch him to groan, head arched onto the cushion of the couch once again as he inhales the smoke you blew onto him just now. He blows it out to the side, slowly bringing his fingers covered in your arousal and cum to your own lips.

You open your mouth to take his fingers in, eagerly. Jungkook thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, your mind immediately imagining it was his cock as you licked and sucked on the fingers - just like you'd do to his cock.

Meanwhile, your other hand reached Jungkook's lips to press the cigarette onto them for him to inhale some smoke in. Gladly, he accepts your offer to take some smoke in and then to shamelessly blow it onto your face.

So fucking hot.

Jungkook pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a bit of force, making you whine — wanting more of his fingers. God, you loved his fingers so much.

"Spit on my fingers, angel"

He encourages you to do so, motioning you with a small tilt of his head. You, feeling more than happy, spit on his fingers like an obedient little puppy just how he asked you to do so.

"Good girl"

This time, Jungkook's fingers wrap around your waist to reach down to your pussy from the back, his fingers coming in contact with your folds covered in slick while having your body locked onto his.

"Shit, Jungkook. You're so hot"

Your naked chest was now pressed against his clothed chest, the strawberry from earlier nowhere to be seen and forgotten while his other hand snatches away the cigarette from your hand.

You whine out again, this time more dragged than before — just dying for the cigarette that's now in his hand.

"Patience, angel" He hushes you calmly.

You listen well, moaning to the feeling of Jungkook's fingers rubbing against your puffy folds, spreading your spit around.

He takes an inhale from the cigarette, blowing a bit of the smoke onto your face and the rest to the side. You moan in reaction, chin pressed onto his abs. Jungkook surprisingly brings the cigarette closer to your lips, letting you take a drag out of it.

"Mh" you hum in satisfaction, cheek now pressed against his chest while his fingers toyed with your cunt.

This felt rather relaxing and comforting. You liked this.

Jungkook places a few soothing kisses on the top of your head, enjoying this sweet moment.

You grip onto his hand to bring it down so you could take another drag from the cigarette, making Jungkook huff - rolling his eyes a little.

"Can we order chinese tonight? I'm craving that"

"Baby, I was thinking of getting pizza"

"But Jungkook, we have pizza, like, a lot of times! Let's get chinese today."

"Ah, Fine"

"How's that project at work going?"

— you and Jungkook casually slipped into conversation. This was a moment of love and comfort for you, rather than a moment of pleasure. It was true you loved having his fingers deep in your cunt, but you loved this too. It just reminds you of how easy to talk to he is, how you find comfort within his arms, how much you love him.

Bad Decisions

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: biker au, secret relationship, pfp filth

summary: by day, jeongguk is the youngest heir of the noble seven—untouchable, lethal, and born into power. by night, he’s the ghost on a matte black Husqvarna, tearing through city streets with recklessness only royalty can afford. but there’s one thing he can’t control: you. the girl he’s been sneaking around with in stolen hours and secret places. when a high stakes race throws you back into his path, a charged game of cat and mouse ignites—your biting words matched only by the heat in his stare.

later that night, you find yourself exactly where you swore you shouldn’t be—underneath him, breathless and begging for more. but what starts as a heady, sweat slicked surrender spirals into something neither of you expect. in the quiet between moans and the hush that follows release, something shifts. words are whispered that neither of you can take back.

warnings: motorcycle racing jeongguk, role playing? you act like strangers in public, light bdsm, bondage, blindfold, cumming lots of cumming, breeding kink? jeongguk loves filling you up (wrap it up kids), boob job, jeongguk calls you princess 🫠 (i’m weak for it SUE ME), anal sex, soft dom weak for his princess jeongguk, fingering, they’re just a freaky ass couple who’re obsessed with each other

word count: 5,903

Introducing: The Consequences

The first time you see Jeongguk is at a street race near the east side of town, where the Reapers’ territory bleeds into the Titans’ stretch of concrete

Neutral ground. Or at least, that’s what everyone pretends it is.

It’s not the best place to be after dark—but not the worst either. That’s the thing about the city. Whether you’re in a luxury high rise or posted on the block, you keep your head on a swivel. No exceptions.

Jeongguk rolls in on a black and chrome Kawasaki Ninja H2 Carbon, the engine purring like a predator with too much money and nowhere to be. The bike looks custom, vicious. So does he. His black leather jacket clings to his frame like it was stitched directly onto his body. One you’ve heard about in rumors passed between girls with loose lips and tighter jeans.

Flanking him are the rest of the Noble Seven. Heirs of the seven families who run the country from behind velvet curtains and bloodstained ledgers.

“My god,” Keira breathes, her voice low and reverent. “It’s like the universe said, ‘Hmm, what would sex on legs look like?’ and dropped them here just to fuck with us.”

You laugh. It’s such a Keira thing to say.

But she’s not wrong.

“Hey.” Pierce’s voice cuts through your amusement like a whip, authoritative. You and Keira both stiffen as he approaches, already pulling his helmet on. “Don’t go far. And don’t talk to anyone.”

You fake a gag, just in time to catch him yanking Keira toward him by the belt loop of her jeans.

“Good luck kiss?” he grins at her. You roll your eyes and tune them out, shifting your attention back to the growing crowd of riders and onlookers. It’s the first night out you’ve had in weeks.

The shop’s been busier than ever with the warm weather—more cash in your pockets, sure, but less time to enjoy it.

A cold rush skims up your spine.

Someone’s watching you.

You scan the crowd from beneath your lashes, discreet but alert. You’re not in the mood for a fight tonight.

Your breath falters in your chest when you find the source.

Jeongguk’s gaze locks with yours; dark, curious, and far too direct for comfort. His eyes glitter like onyx under the flickering neon lights. He says something low to the man beside him without breaking eye contact. Park Jimin follows his line of sight and smirks, slow and dangerous.

Nope.

You whip your head away.

Pierce said don’t talk to anyone. You’re pretty sure that includes body language.

“Come on,” Keira says, tugging your arm. “Let’s grab drinks and find seats before the race starts. You should flirt with Baekhyun—he’ll let us watch the drone footage.”

“We can just stream it on our phones,” you grumble, trying not to trip as she drags you along “And Baekhyun’s like a brother. That’s weird.”

“Ugh. Everyone is like a brother to you. When are you gonna stop friend zoning dick and swallow some?”

“Hyunwoo wasn’t like a brother.”

Keira side eyes you, tongue sliding over her teeth. “No…no he was not.” You both dissolve into giggles as you join the line at concessions.

—

The second time you see Jeongguk, it’s through the grainy feed of Baekhyun’s drone—high above the treacherous backroads of Howlers Mountain, where one wrong move means a broken body or worse.

You’re sitting on the roof of the camper, knees pulled to your chest, drink sweating in your hand. Keira’s next to you, vibrating with adrenaline.

“Who the hell takes a curve at that angle?” she yells, nearly spilling tequila down your jeans.

“Apparently, Jeon fucking Jeongguk,” Baekhyun mutters from his monitor below.

The camera pans to a blur of black gear, tires screaming around a cliffside, the rider leaning in like he’s bulletproof. Your breath catches as gravel spits from his rear tire—he’s inches from the edge.

You hate how your chest clenches.

Hate more the thrill that curls in your belly.

He’s reckless.

Stupid.

Beautiful.

And completely in control.

“He’s okay,” you say quickly, pointing at the screen as the rider regains balance. “He’s okay.”

Your own cocktail sloshes over the rim of your cup, ice rattling.

“Keep it down, ladies,” Baekhyun mutters from behind his controller. “I’m working.”

“Sorry, Bacon!” you and Keira chorus, teasing him in sync. He groans like he regrets inviting you, which only makes you laugh harder.

Your attention drifts back to the sleek shadow slicing through the mountain pass—black bike, black gear. Jeongguk.

“Let’s go, silver surfer!” Keira yells as Pierce takes the lead, cutting past Jeongguk in a clean maneuver.

You glance at the route map—tight turn coming up. That’s usually where the race is won or lost.

Pierce surges ahead, dressed in head to toe white like a declaration of war. It’s too on the nose. Too symbolic. But your brother loves a metaphor.

Your heart skips when another rider, Marcus, skids out, bike sliding across the asphalt with a sharp screech. He tumbles, helmet shattering as the other riders swerve to avoid him.

“Fuck, that was close,” Baekhyun breathes.

You’re already out the door, feet pounding the steps of the camper, Keira hot on your heels as the thunder of engines rushes toward the finish line.

Jeongguk crosses first.

Pierce is a breath behind him.

The crowd goes feral.

Jeongguk revs his engine, slowing just enough to pull up directly in front of you. The way he swings off the bike is criminal—helmet in one hand, jacket clinging to his chest like a second skin. His eyes rake up your body: chunky heels, cargos, crop top. He doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about your chest.

“Now this is a first place trophy,” he says over his shoulder to Jimin, who’s lounging nearby with his helmet under his arm.

You scoff. Loudly.

“Even if winners did get trophies, it definitely wouldn’t be me.”

Keira tugs your sleeve, whispering not to antagonize a member of the Noble Seven. You couldn’t care less. Arrogance doesn’t look good on anyone—even if he wears it well.

Jeongguk laughs, the sound warm and rich, but edged with something colder.

He plants his helmet on the seat, closing the distance between you in two strides. His frame is massive up close, all sculpted muscle and quiet dominance.

He smells like leather and bergamot, and the scent wraps around your senses before you can brace against it.

“And what kind of winner do I have to be,” he murmurs, “to win you?”

His voice curls around your spine like a promise or a threat. Maybe both.

You meet his gaze evenly, only your lip caught between your teeth betraying the flutter in your chest. You lean in, just enough that your breath ghosts over his lips. You hear him inhale.

Good.

Two can play this game.

“I’m not won, Jeon,” you whisper, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m earned.”

Then you step back, grab Keira’s hand, and vanish into the crowd.

His laughter follows you like smoke.

“I know you’ve heard the rumors,” he calls after you. “That I don’t like to lose.”

You pause but don’t turn. You don’t have to.

“I’ll admit it. I’m a bit of a sore loser.”

His tone shifts—silken, dangerous.

“Just know whatever they told you about me? Lies,” he says, the crowd swallowing him in a sea of noise and flashing lights. “I’m much worse.”

Your skin prickles. Your breath catches.

You keep walking.

Hopefully, your little show doesn’t bite you in the ass later.

“Damn,” Keira whistles beside you. “He’s definitely not like a brother.”

You squeeze her hand tighter. “Is he still looking?”

“He’s doing more than looking, sister friend.”

— — — — —

The door slams shut behind you.

In an instant, Jeongguk has you pinned—his palm wrapped around your throat, pressing you flat to the wood like he owns you. His other hand works between your thighs, fingers curling deep inside your dripping pussy with unrelenting rhythm.

Your legs tremble as your slick soaks through ruined lace. His knee knocks yours apart, kicking your cargos across the hallway.

“You said I have to earn you, huh, princess?”

Words escape you. Your tongue feels swollen and useless, lolling helplessly against your lips as your mouth parts in silent cries.

His fingers find your g-spot, hook into it like he’s done this a thousand times, and your body convulses. The edge of your orgasm looms, sharp and sudden, white-hot pressure blooming behind your eyes.

“Answer me.” His voice is a growl against your ear, his body the only thing keeping you upright.

“J-Jeongguk—I’m gonna—please—”

His fingers don’t relent. If anything, they move faster. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the air, each wet squelch making your cheeks flush. You clench desperately around his hand, right there on the edge—

Then nothing.

He pulls out.

Your orgasm evaporates into a scream of frustration, your nails dragging down the door. Tears spring to your eyes as the emptiness between your legs throbs violently.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

Jeongguk lifts his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, moaning shamelessly as he licks them clean. His hand tightens around your throat, thumb stroking the column of your neck as he forces you to watch.

“Did you really think you could get away with saying that shit to me?” His voice is low, deadly, nearly amused.

You shake your head, lips trembling. He leans in, his lips grazing your ear.

“Use your fucking words. Or I’ll play with this pussy until the sun comes up. Is that what you want?”

“No—no! Please, let me cum, baby—please.”

His lips crash into yours, swallowing your plea. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes your pussy clench in need, your whole body arching for more.

He breaks the kiss with a dark chuckle. “Did you have fun teasing me, princess? Standing there in front of everyone, looking like my own personal goddess? Thinking I wouldn’t make you pay for it?”

“I wasn’t—!” you gasp, but your protest dies on your tongue when his thumb circles your clit, rough and fast.

You writhe, your legs locking around his hips, chasing any sensation that’ll give you what he keeps stealing.

“You’re a horrible fucking liar,” he snarls. He yanks your panties aside and plunges his fingers back into your soaked heat. “Let’s try again. Be a good girl. Tell the truth. Now.”

“Y-Yes—I did, I was teasing,” you gasp, shame and need tangling in your throat. “Gguk, please—!”

“Such a bad girl,” he tsks. “Teasing me in front of Keira, in front of your brother? It’d be wrong of me to bend you over my bike and fuck the attitude out of you, wouldn’t it?”

You moan, head rolling back as his fingers fuck you ruthlessly. You’re so close it feels like dying.

“Gguk…”

“What? You wanna cum?” he mocks, voice syrupy with false sympathy. “My baby wants me to let her cum?”

You nod frantically, lips parted, mind unraveling.

He grins.

And then he wrecks you.

His thumb finds your clit again, and the combination sends lightning through your veins. Your orgasm builds like a storm surge, fast and furious, until it’s the only thing you can feel.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “I’ll make you cum, princess. And then I’ll keep going—until you remember who you belong to.”

When it hits, it devastates you.

You scream his name as your orgasm slams through your body, collapsing every muscle with it. Your vision whites out, your walls fluttering around his fingers, spasming again and again as tears pour down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it—past it—ruthless, merciless. His hand tightens around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to make your lungs burn, and the overstimulation mutates into a new kind of hunger.

“You’re so sexy like this,” he growls against your cheek, “looking all innocent in front of Keira and your brother. But we both know better, don’t we, pretty girl?”

“Jeongguk—!”

“You love it.” His voice is hoarse with desire. “Getting all stupid on my fingers, going cock drunk before I even fuck you. I should make you cum again just like this.”

You claw at him, your thighs trembling as you try to pull away, but he catches your waist and holds you still.

“Fuck, baby—you want me to cum in my pants?” he groans, rutting into your thigh. “Shit, you’re dripping down my wrist.”

“N-No—I—I want you in me,” you whimper.

He inhales sharply, and it’s all over.

He drags you to the living room, drops onto the couch, and pulls you into his lap like he can’t bear to wait another second.

“Can I fuck you now? Please, baby—I need to feel you.” His hands are trembling as he unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, leaking.

You fall to your knees, hungry.

“Need to suck your dick,” you pant, reaching for him.

But Jeongguk grabs your wrists. “Not now,” he growls. “Need you riding me.”

His eyes burn into yours as he tears your panties from your body, lips parted in awe as he stares at your soaked, puffy folds.

“Come here, princess. Sit on my cock.”

You straddle him, guiding the thick head of his dick to your entrance. You both gasp when he slips in, walls stretching to accommodate him.

“So wet… ‘m gonna cum just from you sitting on me.”

You whimper as you sink down, inch by inch, until he’s seated fully inside you.

“F-fuck,” he hisses. “Love your pussy, princess.”

He cups your breasts, pulling your bandeau down with a groan. Your nipples are hard, begging to be tasted. He wraps his mouth around one, tongue flicking while his other hand kneads the other breast.

You ride him slowly, grinding your hips in lazy circles that drive him mad.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, switching to the other nipple, suckling greedily. “Wanna live right here forever. Just like this.”

You start to move faster, hips bouncing, skin clapping against skin. His cock hits deep with every drop, the stretch addictive.

“I’m close,” you pant.

“I know, baby—I feel it. Fuck—you’re squeezing me so good.”

He grips your hips and thrusts up into you, punching into your cervix with brutal precision. Your orgasm builds fast and hot.

“Harder!” you beg. “Please, Jeongguk—harder!”

He slams into you, over and over, and suddenly he’s everywhere—his mouth on your tits, his hands bruising your waist, his cock claiming every inch of you.

You scream when you cum again, whole body shaking as you collapse into him, trembling in his arms.

But he’s not done.

He lifts you and flips you onto the couch. “No—please, Gguk, I can’t—”

“You can,” he croons, lining himself up again. “You will.”

He thrusts into your overstimulated cunt and sets a ruthless pace, eyes wild as he watches your eyes roll back.

“So wet, so fucking warm—shit! Gonna fill you up, okay? Gonna fuck you right, princess.”

You cry out, clawing at the cushions, unable to form words anymore. Just please and more and don’t stop on loop.

His rhythm stutters. His face contorts in pleasure. He shoves in deep, holding you down as he empties inside you with a broken groan.

His cum floods your walls, thick and hot, and it makes you moan again, your legs twitching around his waist.

He leans in, kissing your lips softly now. Passionately. Worshipful.

“You’re mine, baby,” he breathes, brushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead. “All mine.”

And in the wreckage of your shared desire, you believe it.

Feel it in your bones.

—

You find yourself in Jeongguk’s bedroom, sprawled across 800 thread count Egyptian cotton. The sheets are cool against your flushed skin, a poor remedy for the heat coursing through you—made worse by the steady chill of the air conditioning he always insists on.

Your vision is cloaked in black silk, blindfolded and vulnerable beneath the weight of his desires. Every creak of the bed frame, every shift in the air feels magnified, your heartbeat pounding in your ears like a warning—or a promise.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head, princess?”

His voice cuts through the silence like velvet over steel, coming from your right. You gasp, your body tightening reflexively around the sound.

A whimper escapes you, helpless and raw. After making you cum on the couch downstairs, Jeongguk had carried you upstairs over his shoulder—his toned ass on display the whole way—then bound your wrists to the bedposts with soft cotton rope.

Now you lie there, spread open, waiting.

“Gguk…”

You strain to hear, to locate him. But there are no footsteps, no shifting weight. Just a vast, mysterious silence.

It used to terrify you, this surrender of control. When Jeongguk first introduced you to the world of blindfolds and bondage, the loss of sight had been a seismic jolt to your nerves. But with time—and with him—you learned to trust. And Jeongguk? He always took care of you.

Your body flinches when something cool and leather trails up your thigh. A heartbeat later, the riding crop slices through the air and lands on your skin with a sharp crack.

“Ahh—”

The sound that spills from your lips is more moan than cry, your body arching in response. You’re trembling, sensitive and aroused, a lit fuse waiting to be touched.

“I asked you a question,” he murmurs, his voice brushing your cheek like a phantom kiss. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

You chase the heat of his breath, desperate for a kiss, a graze, anything—but he withholds, as always.

“I was thinking…” You’re panting now, your breath catching in your throat. “Thinking about you… and this.”

Even now, you’re bashful—unable to shake the taboo feeling, even with how deeply you’ve fallen into his world. Kinks, bondage, the blurred lines of pleasure and pain. You crave them, but speaking them aloud still feels like standing naked before a crowd.

He hums low in his throat. The riding crop returns, this time ghosting over your chest. Your nipples stiffen instantly, and you jolt when he flicks them with the tip.

“Do you want to stop?”

His tone changes—no more teasing or dominance, only calm and care. Sincere. He always checks in. Always offers an out.

This is about trust first. Pleasure second. Always.

You shake your head vigorously, the blindfold shifting slightly with the motion. “No. Please… don’t stop.”

Another sharp crack. You jolt, the pleasure bursting through you like sparks.

“Then use your words, princess. Why am I repeating myself so much tonight?”

You cry out again when the crop strikes your swollen clit, sticky with need. Strings of your arousal stretch and snap with every motion.

“N-No. Please, please don’t stop.”

He blows lightly against your exposed cunt, the breeze making you squirm.

“Maybe I should tease you until sunrise. You’ve had your fun, haven’t you? Now it’s my turn.”

“Gguk… please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for—release or denial, more pain or mercy. All of it. None of it. Just him.

“Always begging. Always wanting. What about me, princess?”

You’d give him anything if he asked. The moon. Your soul. His name, carved into your skin.

The bed dips near your legs. Jeongguk straddles you, his thighs bracketing your own. His heat is molten, almost unbearable. You feel him shift again near your head, then—

A hot, wet tongue swipes across your nipple.

You choke on a gasp. Your body, already oversensitive from the teasing, lights up like a live wire. He sucks and bites, lavishing attention on your breasts until you’re nothing but tremors and whimpers.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he groans, voice strained.

He sits up, sliding forward until he’s perched just above your ribcage. He presses your breasts together, thumbs circling your aching nipples while one hand reaches back to dip between your thighs.

You cry out at the sensation, hips jerking instinctively. But he doesn’t fuck you. He just strokes your folds, coating his fingers in your slick.

You hear him groan. Then he grabs his cock, stroking himself with a hiss, smearing your arousal over his length.

“Gonna cum all over these pretty tits, okay, princess?”

You feel the weight of him settle on your chest, the head of his cock dragging along your sternum. Your mouth waters. You still haven’t tasted him yet—and he knows it.

“What’s your color?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.”

He begins to move, sliding his cock between your breasts. You tilt your head down to flick your tongue over the tip whenever it emerges from your cleavage.

“Oh fuck, baby. Keep doing that—shit,” he grits out, his rhythm faltering for a moment as your tongue teases him.

Your clit throbs, aching for attention, but even this—just his cock, your tongue, his voice—is enough to have you teetering on the edge.

“Fuck, your tits are so soft. So perfect. Fuck—”

You moan, drunk on the way he uses your body for his pleasure. Drunk on him.

“I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum, princess.”

You whimper, tongue flicking greedily. His grip tightens, his pace quickens, until—

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming—”

He groans deeply, cock jerking as hot ropes of cum spill across your chest, painting your skin in thick streaks. You feel one hand release your tits, fingers dragging through the mess before they press against your lips.

“Open.”

Your mouth falls open instinctively, tongue rolling out to receive the offered gift. He lets the cum drip onto your tongue, then slides his fingers into your mouth.

“What do we say when we get a treat?”

“Thank you,” you mumble, words slurred.

“Now swallow. Show me.”

You obey. His breath catches when you swallow around his fingers and reveal an empty mouth.

“Fuck. Now you want to behave, huh? What happened to the brat from the racetrack?”

You whimper, still aching. Your thighs press together in search of friction—but he notices. Of course he does.

A sharp slap lands on your pussy.

“Thought you could sneak one past me?” he growls. “Pretending to be a good girl? I guess I’ll have to edge the disobedience out of you.”

“Gguk—no, please! Please let me cum—need it so bad,” you sob, pride long since abandoned.

“I said shut up, fucking cumslut.”

He returns like a shadow, one hand wrapped around your throat, a knee wedging between your legs, grinding against your clit.

“Am I not enough for you? Don’t I give you everything you need?” he hisses, the slap of his hand against your soaked folds punctuating every word.

“Yes! Yes, you do! You’re all I need, Jeongguk—please, let me cum, I need to cum!”

He lets go of your throat. You gasp for breath, trembling with desperation.

But he’s already gone again, vanished into the quiet once more—leaving you writhing, needy, and dripping for him.

The ropes fall away from your wrists first, then your ankles, leaving behind a tingling sensation like ghost chains. You barely have a moment to breathe before his voice rumbles low and commanding.

“Turn over.”

You obey, the air cool against your sweat slicked skin as you roll onto your stomach. A firm grip on your wrists draws them behind your back once more—retied, restrained. The plush wedge that’s slid beneath your hips lifts you just so, ass perched high in the air, back arched in offering.

“Gguk, what are we—”

“Did I say you could speak?” His interruption slices through the dark like a blade. You bite down on your lip, choking back the moan that bubbles up your throat. Anticipation skitters down your spine like an electric current. You feel feral for him—need thrumming in every vein, your heart beating out a rhythm your body can’t ignore.

“You want me to fill you up, princess? Need dick that badly, huh?” He’s behind you now, one hand gripping the swell of your ass while the other parts your cheeks, exposing your drenched folds and twitching hole to the cool air.

“Yours,” you pant. “Only want you.”

Jeongguk groans low, pleased and ravenous. He knows what you need before you ask for it. He always does.

“Yeah? My greedy little thing.” His thumb trails through your slick, spreading it up over your tight ring of muscle. “Wanna be stuffed so full you feel me in your throat, huh?”

You shiver, a hot sound escaping as he circles your ass slowly, deliberately. The sensation is thicker than lust—it’s something darker, deeper, something that roots itself in your bones and grows.

“You like that,” he murmurs, voice laced with twisted delight as he watches more slick drip from your pussy. “You’re such a filthy girl for me. My perfect, dirty little princess.”

And then—pressure.

His thumb presses against your rim, slow and unrelenting, until the tight muscle begins to yield. You tense instinctively, hips jerking, but his hand on your back steadies you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby.” He coos it like a lullaby, breath hot against your skin. “You’re doing so well for me. My good girl. Just relax.”

You moan—long, low, and desperate—as the thick digit pushes deeper. The stretch is sharp but thrilling, your walls fluttering from the unfamiliar fullness.

“More?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Please,” you gasp, arching back against his hand like a woman possessed. “More, Gguk.”

“Color?”

“Green,” you cry. “Green, green—I need it, please.”

He hums, dark and approving, and slides his thumb deeper, moving it slowly in and out of your clenching hole. Your cunt throbs around nothing, your body begging to be filled in every way it can.

You hear the slick pop of a lid, then feel warm globs of lube land on your skin in lazy drips. He rubs them in, spreading the slickness around your rim, thumb teasing you open again and again. Your moans are breathy now, unfiltered, as the tight ring of muscle yields to him.

You can’t see him, but you can feel the shift in the air when he starts stroking himself—slow, wet sounds of lube-coated flesh against flesh. Your stomach flips.

The blunt head of his cock nudges your hole.

You tense.

“Gguk? Wh-What are you doing?” Your voice trembles, laced with hesitation.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says simply.

Your name on his lips lands like a weight in your chest—heavy, grounding. He means it. He always means it.

But you don’t want him to stop.

You trust him.

“N-No… don’t stop.”

His cock returns to your ass, head pressing in soft circles against your rim as one hand finds your pussy, fingers rubbing tight, rhythmic circles on your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Just breathe. Let me in, nice and slow. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you whisper, melting into his touch.

The pressure builds, and the head of his cock begins to push inside. It’s a slow burn, foreign and breathtaking, paired with the practiced strokes to your clit. He pushes forward inch by inch, and your body surrenders, clenching and fluttering around the intrusion.

“J-Jeongguk…” you whimper, already so full, so close.

He groans behind you, his voice strangled with restraint. “Fuck, princess… this ass is gonna ruin me.”

He stays still, letting you adjust, fingers never stopping their motion on your clit. Your walls begin to flutter—so close again. Your legs shake.

“‘M close… Gguk, I’m—” Your moan splinters as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, long and rolling, each ripple dragging another cry from your lips.

“Shit,” Jeongguk hisses. He’s not even fully inside and you’re already cumming for him.

Once your body stops shaking, he begins to move—slow, shallow thrusts, coaxing your ass to accept him inch by inch. The stretch remains, but now it hums with pleasure, building into something raw and addicting.

“Fuuuuck, baby. You’re perfect,” he groans, hands gripping your hips tight as he finally buries himself inside you.

Your whimpers turn into moans—real, needy ones—your body instinctively rocking back into him.

He moves with more confidence now, pace quickening, hips slapping against your ass with wet, sinful sounds. The wedge keeps you elevated, forcing you to take every inch. You’re trapped between his body and the bed, utterly at his mercy.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growls, one hand slipping beneath you to rub your clit again, hard and fast.

“I–Gguk—I think I’m gonna–!”

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love being ruined.”

You cry out, vision going white as your second orgasm tears through you, louder, sharper than the last. Your hole tightens around him, and Jeongguk curses violently.

“Fuckfuckfuck—princess!” He cums with a shout, cock pulsing inside you, hot ropes painting your insides, claiming you completely.

He doesn’t stop.

Even as his orgasm fades, he keeps moving—softer now, fucking you through the aftershocks. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles.

You keen softly, too sensitive to handle it, but too blissed out to push him away. Another orgasm builds—sharp and shocking—and then explodes across your body, leaving you limp and trembling.

When you finally slump forward, boneless and trembling, Jeongguk catches you with careful hands, easing your weight down onto the wedge. His touch is slow as he unties your wrists, his thumbs brushing over the faint, reddened grooves the rope left behind. He doesn’t speak yet—just presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, then to your temple, grounding you as your breath stutters its way back into rhythm.

The blindfold slips off next, and you blink slowly, vision adjusting to the dim golden light just in time to see his broad back retreating toward the ensuite bathroom.

“I’ll run us a bath,” he murmurs over his shoulder, voice low and warm. “You did so good for me, baby.”

There’s quiet pride in his tone, wrapped in something softer—adoration, maybe, or something frighteningly close to love. And before the water even starts to run, he’s back, tucking a warm blanket around your shoulders and cradling your face in his palms like he’s still worried he might’ve pushed too far.

“Let me take care of you now, yeah?” he says, gently brushing your damp hair from your face, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re mine to break—but you’re also mine to put back together.”

You hum, eyes fluttering closed once more.

Behind your lids, you still feel him—his warmth, his weight, his hands claiming you over and over again.

And in the corner of your blissed out mind, one thought curls up like a secret:

You’ll never belong to anyone else.

— — — — —

The water is warm and fragrant, infused with the scent of vanilla and brown sugar—your favorite combination. Jeongguk had started keeping your bath bombs stocked at his house without ever making a big deal out of it. The kind of quiet gesture that said more than his words ever could.

You’re nestled between his legs, back resting against the firm plane of his chest, your arms stretched lazily across his knees while his fingers trace idle circles beneath the surface. It’s peaceful here. Quiet. The kind of quiet that feels sacred.

Until he speaks.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The words pierce through the steam thick air and sink straight into your chest, rooting themselves like lead in your lungs.

Your body stiffens before you can stop it, muscles tensing where you lie against him. You blink at the candles dancing along the tiled wall, refusing to move, to breathe, to react—because if you don’t acknowledge it, maybe it won’t be real.

You always knew this day would come. That Jeongguk—beautiful, untouchable Jeongguk—would eventually grow tired of sneaking kisses and hidden nights. That he’d outgrow you, just like the others before you, and move on to his next fleeting thrill.

And maybe it hurt more because, somewhere along the way, you’d started to believe you were different.

But what could you say?

You were never his to keep.

“Princess?” His voice is gentle, testing, but you don’t trust yourself to answer. Your silence seems to worry him more than any argument might’ve, and when his arms shift around you, the water sloshes in protest. A wave spills over the porcelain lip of the tub, splattering onto the floor, unnoticed.

He turns you gently until you’re facing him, your chest brushing his with each uneven breath. His features are muddled—blurred by steam, or maybe the tears clinging to your lashes. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until his thumbs brushed under your eyes, wiping away water with more water.

“Why are you crying, baby—? Oh. No, no, no. Shit. That’s not what I meant.” He panics slightly, eyes wide and fingers fumbling like he’s trying to put you back together. “I didn’t mean us. That’s not what I… fuck. I’m not good at this shit.”

He’s rambling now, the way he always does when he’s trying to fix something that’s slipping through his fingers. He leans in to kiss your cheek, lips warm and soft and a little desperate, the way someone might kiss a bruise they didn’t mean to cause.

You see it in his face—adoration, guilt, sincerity. You used to think he was a mystery, impossible to figure out. But now? He might as well be an open book.

“I meant I don’t want to sneak around anymore,” he clarifies, voice softer now, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

You blink once. Twice. “What?” Your head tilts to the side, eyes wide, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. God, you were so fucking cute when you were confused.

He cups your cheeks in his hands, thumbs barely skimming your skin as he brings your face closer, so close your noses brush.

“I want to be with you,” he says simply. “You’re mine. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re strangers. I want to kiss you after a race in front of everyone. Even your brother.”

You wrinkle your nose in horror. “Ew. Why would you say that? That’s nasty.”

He chuckles, full and deep, his grin stretching across his face like sunshine breaking through a storm.

Your voice turns soft, almost childlike in its wonder. “You mean it?”

He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t need to ask what you’re really searching for. He leans in and kisses you—slow and certain, like a promise written in ink instead of pencil.

“What’d I say, baby?” he murmurs against your lips. “Make bad decisions, you deal with the consequences. You’re stuck with me.”

You giggle, bright and unguarded, and tug him back in. “If this is my punishment, I’ll happily do the time for the crime.”

Jeongguk pulls away with a groan, throwing his head back in laughter. Wet strands of hair sling droplets across your face and neck, but you’re too busy watching him—really watching him—to care.

He sobers only slightly, eyes finding yours again with that same unshakable intensity. One hand slips behind your neck, holding you there as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“You’re so fucking cheesy, princess,” he whispers, brushing his nose against yours, “but I love it.”

You lean into him, fingers curling around his wrist, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you’re falling alone.

You feel like you’ve been caught.

masterlist

Thank you so much for everything. Your little post means a lot to me. Thank you a lot for your support and love toward my works. You’re such a angel for being so kind <3 - sunny

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You deserve all of it !! Your stories are so good, I keep re-reading them!! And actually you made my day by helping and following me, which means a lot to me. I'll keep supporting you no matter what!! 🌷🩷🥹

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i wish you could love me again