#sub bts

[mrsvante]

At Your Feet

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: idol au, established relationship, pfp

summary: he’s home. eighteen months of denial. and now, the front door clicks shut behind him. the flashes stop. the noise fades. and all that’s left is you.

your voice. your rules. your power.

he remembers everything. every command. every ache. every way he was made to perform for you. and tonight, after all this time, he finally gets to please you again.

warnings: military discharge, established d/s dynamic, dom!reader, sub!jungkook, obedience/service kink, restraints (cuffs, blindfolds), orgasm control & denial, pegging m!receiving, spanking m!receiving, face sitting, oral fixation kink, praise & degradation kink, crying/emotionally overwhelmed jk, cumplay, overstimulation, lube & toys, a dash of military uniform kink 🤭, jungkook calling reader mistress/noona 😜😜😜, mental check ins between scenes, soft aftercare

word count: 8,840

a message from our sponsors 💁🏽‍♀️: okay so this is insane. i didn’t realize how long this drabble was until i was editing. it was difficult for me to write from a dom’s perspective (not to be too tmi but i prefer to lean way more submissive in my relationships). i kept thinking i hadn’t written enough for the drabble and now its double the word count of all the others 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ well, whatever..hopefully you guys like it. i’ve seen a few sub!jk stories and wanted to try my hand at it 😅

The front door closed behind him with a soft click.

Outside, the world was still spinning. Reporters still lingering, flashes still going off, Jimin already texting him nonsense from the car en route to his apartment, but in here?

It was just him.

And you.

Jungkook exhaled as he slipped out of his boots, the weight of eighteen months settling at his feet like dust. The air inside your home was warm, humid with the scent of ginger, sesame oil, and garlic—your cooking. His favorite. The smell hit him in the chest like a memory and a promise.

He dropped his duffel by the door, throat tight.

“I’m home,” he called softly, voice already laced with need.

From somewhere deeper in the apartment your voice floated back, cool and calm and unmistakably you.

“Get on your knees.”

His breath hitched.

The smile that crept across his lips wasn’t a happy one, it was relieved.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Jungkook was already sinking to the floor.

His knees hit the wood with a quiet thud. He rolled his shoulders back and laced his fingers behind him, eyes fixed on the hallway ahead…waiting.

Breath slowing. Head bowed slightly. Heart racing in his chest like a drum called to war.

Just like that, his body remembered.

Even after months of rigidity, rules, and military order, this was what brought him peace. You were his structure. His command. His reward.

His cock hardened instantly in his fatigues, straining uncomfortably against the stiff material, but he didn’t adjust it. Didn’t move. Not without permission.

Jungkook closed his eyes.

God, he’d missed this.

Missed you.

Missed the sound of your voice, stern, soft, all powerful.

Missed the weight of your gaze on him.

Missed the way his body hummed the moment you took control.

And now he was here, finally home, hands folded neatly behind his back, knees pressed to the floor, and waiting patiently.

Ready.

Yours.

—

His knees had gone numb.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t fidget. Didn’t shift. Didn’t so much as glance around the room.

Jungkook knelt where you told him to, hands clasped behind his back, cock straining beneath the tight press of his uniform. And when the scent of your perfume slid around the corner, wrapping its fingers around his throat like silk?

He nearly whimpered.

Then you stepped into view.

And he did whimper.

Because you were in nothing but an apron. Thin cotton tied at the back, hem brushing your thighs, the curve of your hips bare, your chest barely concealed, nipples peaked beneath the soft fabric.

You tilted your head, not missing the way his breath hitched at the sight of you.

“Well,” you said, voice lilting like amusement dripped in honey, “they let you out early. Thought for sure they’d keep the kitchen staff for cleanup.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed.

“I wasn’t—”

You raised a brow. “You weren’t what, soldier?”

He shut his mouth fast, eyes lowering. “I wasn’t trying to argue, mistress.”

You hummed approvingly, arms crossing under your breasts. “Smart. Just a glorified cafeteria boy and still knows his place. I’m impressed.”

His cock throbbed at your words, the quiet cruelty in your tone, and the heat building behind your eyes.

And you knew it.

“Still so obedient after all this time,” you murmured, taking slow, measured steps toward him, heels clicking against the wood. “Still kneeling so pretty. Like nothing’s changed.”

You paused just a few feet in front of him. Close enough to see the way his throat bobbed. Close enough for him to smell the perfume on your skin and the faint hint of something sugary in your hair.

“But something has changed,” you whispered. Then, slowly, deliberately, you untied the bow at your back, and the apron slid forward an inch.

Jungkook’s eyes remained fixed on your feet, but you could see the tremble in his jaw, the flush on his neck.

You pulled the apron loose from your body, baring your chest, your stomach, the curve of your thighs—everything.

His breath stuttered.

“Be good,” you warned softly. “Eyes down.”

He didn’t move.

Not even when the apron dropped to the floor in front of him like a gauntlet.

You stepped out of it, bare now in every way that mattered, and paced around him like a flame licking at the edges of his restraint.

And still, he didn’t look.

Perfect.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” you whispered, circling him like a predator. “Missed this house. This smell. This floor. Your place on it.”

“Yes, mistress,” he rasped, voice hoarse with need.

You stopped behind him, leaned in close.

“Missed me?”

His head bowed further, nearly to the floor. “More than anything.”

Your hand softly cupped his throat from behind, full of possession.

“You poor thing,” you murmured. “So starved for touch, and yet still so well trained. You’re mine, aren’t you, Jungkook?”

“Yes, mistress. Always.”

“Good.”

You moved back into view, standing before him once more.

“Now,” you said, stepping just close enough that the scent of your arousal reached his nose, “I’m going to cook while you continue kneeling like the good boy you are. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you taste what you’ve really been craving when I’m done.”

Jungkook bit down a moan and bowed his head again.

“Thank you, mistress,” he whispered, trembling.

Jungkook’s thighs ached. His back protested. His cock throbbed so hard it felt like it had its own pulse.

Still, he didn’t move and didn’t speak.

Just continued kneeling where you felt him. Staring at the apron piled in front of him.

He listened to the rustle of cookware and the faint bubbling of sauce from the stove. The way your heels clicked against the floor as you moved through the kitchen. Occasionally, he caught the sound of you humming to yourself under your breath, unconcerned with his presence.

That alone made him dizzy.

He was here, in your home, finally, after months of nothing but letters and rules and routines. And you were treating him like the obedient little thing he was, like no time had passed at all.

It made his chest ache.

It made his cock ache worse.

By the time you returned, your steps slow and measured, the food steaming behind you on the dining table and your nipples tight in the cool air, Jungkook felt like he was seconds from begging.

But he stayed still.

And you smiled.

“Good boy,” you purred. “Eighteen months and you’re still perfectly trained.”

His breath left him in a shaky exhale.

You stepped closer, brushing a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly until he dared to meet your eyes.

“I want you to go wash your hands, bunny,” you said sweetly. “Use the powder room. You can stand now.”

Jungkook obeyed immediately.

He rose in one fluid movement, stiff from stillness but graceful all the same. His cock strained visibly in his pants, but he made no move to relieve it. Only offered you a bow of his head and whispered, “Yes, mistress,” before padding toward the powder room off the kitchen.

He passed you on the way, close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, close enough to inhale the sweetness clinging to your collarbone. He caught only a flicker of your bare back as he disappeared into the hall.

He washed his hands in silence, trying not to groan when he adjusted himself briefly in his fatigues.

When he returned, you were already at the table, one perfectly crossed leg revealing the curve of your thigh. A soft hum passed your lips as you filled his plate. Rice perfectly fluffed, meat steaming, the banchans were fragrant and colorful. You filled your own next, then folded your hands in your lap.

“You may eat.”

It was the softest command he’d received all day.

And yet it hit him the hardest.

Jungkook bowed his head gratefully before picking up his chopsticks. The first bite of meat melted on his tongue. Tender, spiced, cooked with the kind of love no military cooking could ever mimic.

He moaned.

Loudly.

“Fuck, mistress,” he said before he could stop himself. “This is so good. I—”

Then he looked at you again.

And almost choked.

Because while he was there, tucked beneath the soft glow of dining room light and chewing on perfectly seasoned chicken, you sat across from him, completely naked. Wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels and a small smile.

Casually eating.

Unbothered.

Like you weren’t slowly driving him to madness.

“M-mistress,” he stuttered, chopsticks freezing midair. His eyes dropped from your face to your breasts, to the bare skin of your stomach, to the place where your thighs pressed together just beneath the table.

He swallowed hard.

You didn’t look up. Just plucked another piece of chicken from your plate and chewed slowly.

“What is it, Jungkook?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“I—uh—” he tried, shifting in his seat.

“Is your food not to your liking?”

“No, mistress! It’s—it’s perfect.”

You finally looked up, eyes glittering. “Then eat, bunny. I didn’t spend all evening in the kitchen just for you to drool over my tits.”

Heat slammed into his gut like a fist.

“Yes, mistress,” he whispered, red faced, and forced another bite into his mouth—eyes darting between his food and your legs beneath the table.

—

The first time your heel brushes his cock, Jungkook nearly drops his chopsticks.

It’s subtle at first, just the curve of your foot nudging between his thighs, tracing along the inseam of his fatigues. But even that has him blinking hard, trying to stay composed, trying not to groan around a mouthful of rice.

Then the pressure increases.

The point of your heel glides up the length of his cock beneath the table, cruel and delicate. Jungkook’s whole body jerks.

You look completely serene, chewing thoughtfully, sipping water like your foot isn’t pressing into his crotch with dangerous precision.

“Mistress,” he gasps softly, hips stuttering beneath the table.

You don’t look at him. “Did you follow the rules?”

He knows what you mean.

“Yes, mistress,” he whispers, voice strangled with restraint. “I didn’t touch myself. Not once.”

Your smile is slow and satisfied. “Not even once?”

“Not even once,” he repeats, breathless. “I—I thought about you every night. But I didn’t touch.”

“Mmm…” You hum in approval, still not looking at him. “Such a good boy.”

Jungkook makes a noise, something like a half moan, half exhale as you press firmer, dragging the tip of your heel down the underside of his cock to rest just above his balls. His pulse hammers under his skin and sweat beads at the nape of his neck.

It’s not just the teasing—it’s you. You and your heels and your control. The scent of roasted meat still lingering in the air. The faint glisten of body oil on your bare chest. And now the image of your foot sliding along the line of his cock like you own him.

Because you do.

He grips the table’s edge to ground himself. His food forgotten.

“You’re not eating,” you note, eyes finally flicking to him. “Are you full?”

“I—” Jungkook swallows thickly, his cock straining violently against his pants. “Yes, mistress. I’m done. Thank you for cooking.”

Your head tilts, pleased.

“You’re welcome, bunny.” Then you lean back, voice dipping low. “I made your favorite for dessert.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

You slide your chair back with a low scrape of wood on wood, then slowly spread your legs.

Jungkook forgets to breathe.

You’re wet and glistening under the warm light. And not wearing a single thing but those devastating heels means he can see everything. The soft, shaved curves of your pussy. The glint of slick between your folds. The shadowed heat waiting just for him.

His mouth waters instantly.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, barely audible.

You trace two fingers lightly over your inner thigh and smile. “You’ve been such a good boy, Jungkook. Do you want dessert now?”

He nods too fast, eyes locked between your legs like a starving man watching his first meal in months. “Yes, mistress. Please.”

You let your fingers slip lower, brushing just barely against your center as your voice goes saccharine sweet.

“Then crawl.”

He’s out of his chair in a second, already on his knees.

His fatigues scrape against the floor as he moves, but he barely notices. Not when you’re seated before him like a goddess in nothing but heels and power. His mouth is dry, his heart a war drum in his chest.

You spread your legs wider and Jungkook feels his pulse skip.

“Hands behind your back.”

The command is soft, but it cuts through him like a lash.

He obeys instantly, tucking his wrists behind him, spine straight, eyes locked on your dripping cunt. His cock aches where it’s trapped in his pants, throbbing in time with the tension that coils deep in his belly. But he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t move without your say so.

“Go ahead,” you murmur. “Eat.”

Jungkook leans forward slowly, savoring the moment. The scent of you hits first. All warm and musky, and familiar. He closes his eyes just for a second, inhaling like he’s been denied oxygen for eighteen months.

And then his tongue touches you.

You gasp as he groans, licking up the length of your slit with an eager stroke. His mouth latches onto your clit immediately, suction gentle but insistent. He moans again, tongue swirling, lips parting to press hot, open kisses into your folds like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

The sound of you drives him mad as he works your pussy slowly.

Jungkook tastes you like a man starved, tongue sliding through every crease, every soft dip, learning you all over again. But the more you squirm, the more he hears those little breathless sighs and choked moans from above, the more frenzied he becomes.

You reach down, fingers threading into his hair.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, tugging him in closer. “My perfect, obedient boy.”

He groans, rutting his hips into the air at the praise, tongue fucking into you faster. His nose bumps your clit just right, and your thighs tense around his ears. Your heel presses into his back like a brand, keeping him in place.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” you murmur, breath hitching. “Missed worshiping your Mistress?”

Jungkook nods the best he can with his mouth stuffed full of your cunt, moaning against you like he’s already coming.

You’re close and he knows it. You always tremble right before. Your thighs quiver just slightly, and your fingers tighten in his hair, and your cunt starts to pulse around his tongue like it knows him.

“Don’t stop,” you warn, voice sharp and sweet. “You stop and you don’t get to come tonight.”

He doubles down.

Flicks your clit faster. Presses his tongue deeper. Lets his jaw go slack so he can shake his head slowly between your thighs, building pressure just the way you taught him.

Your moan breaks into something breathless and high.

And then you’re coming.

Hard.

Your thighs clamp tight around his ears, your hips bucking into his face, and Jungkook moans like he’s the one unraveling. He keeps licking through it, keeps drinking down everything you give him until your body slowly starts to relax.

You release his hair gently, your chest rising and falling in time with your breath.

Jungkook pulls back only when you nudge him, his chin slick, lips swollen and his eyes dazed with pure adoration. He waits, hands still behind his back, looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

You lean forward and drag your thumb across his lower lip.

“Good boy,” you purr. “Now get undressed. Slowly. I want to watch.”

Jungkook rises to his feet with devotion in every movement. His fingers go first to the buttons of his fatigues, but he pauses, looking at you for permission. A single nod is all it takes. He begins to undress, slowly, just like you told him.

He peels off each layer like it’s sacred, his uniform jacket first, folded neatly and set aside. Then his undershirt, tugged over his head with trembling hands. You watch him the whole time from your seat, your legs still spread, your slickness glistening between your thighs, heels propped wide.

And yet…

There’s a softness in your gaze now. Just for a second.

It makes his chest ache worse than his cock.

You’re smiling. Not smug or sultry, but happy. A smile that cracks the mask of power you wear like a second skin. Your eyes shine, your throat tightens slightly, and Jungkook watches your smile tremble as you whisper, “I can’t believe you’re really home.”

He freezes, shirt halfway off.

The breath he takes is shallow, shaky. His voice barely works when he says, “I missed you so much, noona. I thought about you every day.”

You rise from your chair and you close the distance between you in three small steps. Your fingers find his jaw, thumbs brushing just beneath his eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, you pull him into a kiss that’s heartbreakingly gentle.

No teasing. No control.

Just lips pressed to his like you’re afraid he’ll disappear again.

It’s him who makes a sound this time. A broken little whimper against your mouth. His arms twitch at his sides, needing to hold you, touch you, anchor you. But he doesn’t. Not without permission.

When you pull back, you’re flushed, breath shallow. You’re so visibly happy it knocks the air out of his lungs.

But then your gaze sharpens.

The softness is gone in an instant, replaced by the glint of control in your eyes that makes Jungkook’s knees weak.

“Did I tell you to stop undressing?” you ask.

He scrambles. “No, Mistress. I’m sorry.”

“Then why are you standing there like you forgot how to move?”

“I didn’t—I’m just—” He bites back the babble of excuses, ducking his head. “I’ll be good.”

“I know you’ll be good,” you say, circling him slowly like a wolf scenting prey. “You always are.”

You stop behind him.

Your palms brush over his back, down his sides, and he shivers when your nails lightly drag over his ribs.

“Get rid of the rest. Now.”

Jungkook obeys at once, pushing his pants and briefs down his legs with trembling urgency. His cock springs free, flushed dark, glistening with need and angled up toward his navel. He steps out of the rest of his clothes, then straightens, arms at his sides, chest rising and falling fast.

You step in front of him again.

Look down.

Smile.

“My, my. Look at you,” you murmur. “Still obedient. Still desperate, and so fucking hard for me.”

He whines, hips twitching forward instinctively.

Your hand shoots out, palm cracking lightly against his thigh. “Ah-ah. You do not fuck the air.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he whispers, head spinning.

You grab his chin and tilt his face down toward yours. “You’re not going to come until I say so.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You trail your fingers down his chest, past his navel, barely grazing the base of his cock. He moans, knees wobbling slightly.

“You’ve been so patient,” you whisper, brushing your lips over his jaw. “So well behaved.”

Your hand closes around him slowly.

He groans, cock twitching in your grip.

You pump him once. Twice. Enough to make his thighs tremble before you pull away completely.

“Go lie down,” you say. “We’re just getting started.”

Jungkook stumbles toward the bedroom without hesitation, cock bobbing with each hurried step.

And you follow, your gaze locked on your boy. Your boy who waited eighteen months to come home to you. Your boy who would burn the world just to kneel at your feet again.

—

He reaches the bedroom and pauses just inside the threshold, unsure if he’s allowed to climb onto the bed without being told.

But you’re already behind him, watching.

“Good boy,” you say softly.

Jungkook swears his knees nearly give out. Those two words hit deeper than any kiss, deeper than any touch. He feels them all the way in his gut.

“On the bed. Head at the pillows.”

He scrambles up, doing exactly as he’s told. His cock aches, heavy and flushed against his stomach, but he doesn’t dare touch it. Not without instruction.

You take your time walking around the room. Your heels echo softly against the wood floor, and the only thing Jungkook can focus on is the gentle sway if your hips with every step.

Then he hears the drawer and soft metallic clink of cuffs.

His breath catches.

You walk over to the bed, holding a pair of padded leather restraints in your hand. The sight of them sends Jungkook’s heart pounding. His hips twitch upward instinctively before he forces himself to be still.

“Hands above your head,” you say.

He obeys without hesitation, and you crawl onto the bed with the calm, practiced ease of someone who’s done this many times and knows exactly how to break him apart.

Your fingers brush over his wrists, and Jungkook swears he could come from just that.

“Still okay?” you murmur, checking his eyes.

“Yes, Mistress,” he says, voice breathless. “Please—yes.”

The cuffs go on gently, secured to the headboard with quiet clicks. They’re snug, but soft. Comforting, even. Like he belongs there.

You sit back on your heels and admire him.

There he is—spread out for you, skin flushed, chest rising and falling fast, cock leaking against his stomach, muscles twitching as he fights to hold still.

And when your hand trails from his collarbone down his chest, Jungkook moans, his arms flexing uselessly against the restraints.

“Look at you,” you murmur. “So obedient. So hard.”

He swallows. “I missed this.”

You smile, slow and wicked. “I can tell.”

You don’t touch him again. Not yet.

Instead, you shift to the end of the bed and sit between his spread thighs. Your hands push gently at his knees, encouraging him to stay open for you. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his inner thigh. Not his cock. Just beside it.

He moans, shivering at the softness of it.

Another kiss. Higher this time.

And another, near the base of his shaft.

He whines, tugging helplessly at the restraints.

“M-Mistress…”

“Something you want, bunny?”

He chokes on a breath. “Please touch me.”

“Oh?” Your lips graze the tip of his cock but never wrap around it. “You were so good for so long. Not even one touch while you were away?”

“No, Mistress,” he gasps. “I followed the rules.”

“Even when you couldn’t sleep?” you ask, voice lower now, sultry and curious. “Even when the barracks were dark and quiet and you were all alone… hard and aching for me?”

He whimpers.

“Yes, Mistress,” he says again. “I didn’t touch myself. Not once.”

You finally reach out, stroking a single fingertip along the underside of his cock.

He twitches violently, hips jerking upward before he can stop himself.

“Mmh,” you sigh. “You really are my good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he pleads, voice already beginning to break. “Please—please let me cum.”

You wrap your hand around him.

Not to stroke. Just to hold him, and he moans, helpless under the weight of your grip.

“You don’t get to come yet,” you whisper. “You’re going to thank me properly first.”

Jungkook nods, trembling, eyes wide and glassy. “Yes, Mistress. Anything.”

You shift up the bed again and straddle his face.

His heart nearly bursts from his chest.

And then—you lower yourself slowly until your heat is pressed against his mouth.

He groans like he needs this more than air.

His tongue works desperately between your folds, lapping and sucking, nose buried in the soft swell of you, and your moans. Those soft breathy sighs make him throb helplessly in the air.

He licks like he’s praying.

You ride his face with a slow, controlled rhythm, fingers gripping his hair, and he lets you take everything from him, his breath, his restraint, his mind. When you finally come, shuddering and gasping, he moans beneath you like he just found heaven.

And when you lift off of him, soaked and radiant, you smile down at him like he’s your prize.

“Still want to cum, bunny?”

He’s breathless. “More than anything.”

You reach between his thighs and stroke him once, twice, just enough to make him cry out.

Then you climb off the bed, and leave him there.

Eyes wide.

Mouth parted.

Cock leaking.

And you say, cool and casual, “Then be patient. We’re not done yet.”

He watches you walk away from the bed, his entire body trembling with need. His cock pulses in the air, flushed dark and leaking, glistening at the tip with every beat of his heart. Every instinct screams at him to chase you, to reach for you, to do something.

But he can’t.

His wrists are still cuffed above his head. And you haven’t told him to move.

So he doesn’t.

Instead, he watches, helpless and hungry, as you walk over to the dresser and open the shallow velvet lined drawer. The one that holds all the toys you love to use on him. His eyes go wide when you lift the wand vibrator from its place.

You don’t say a word as you climb back onto the bed.

But your smile speaks volumes.

You straddle his thigh, kissing the inside of his knee, then the curve of his hip. He’s panting already. Shaking. Barely keeping his whimpers contained.

The wand hums to life in your hand.

And you barely touch the head of his cock.

“Ah—fuck!” Jungkook cries, hips bucking despite himself.

You pull the wand away instantly.

“Tsk,” you scold softly. “What did I say about staying still?”

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress,” he gasps. “I couldn’t help it.”

You hum, tapping the wand lightly against his thigh.

“I think you can help it. You just need… more practice.”

And then you begin again.

The wand returns to the base of his shaft this time, sliding slowly up the length of him before you lift it just as it kisses the swollen head. Again and again. No pressure. No friction. Just the constant vibration around him but never enough.

Jungkook moans, his hands clenching into fists above him, his abs twitching as he tries to keep himself anchored.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. “Please, Mistress… please let me cum…”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm… no.”

You stroke him once with your free hand. Just once.

It’s devastating.

He cries out again, hips stuttering, the heat coiling too tight in his belly now, too fucking much to endure.

“You want to cum that badly, bunny?” you murmur, placing the wand against his inner thigh while your hand wraps around his cock.

“Yes,” he breathes, chest heaving. “Yes—please, I’ll do anything.”

Your grip begins to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, paired with the soft hum of the wand teasing the space just beneath his balls.

“Anything?” you echo.

He nods rapidly, moaning, breathless and ruined. “Yes. Yes, Mistress.”

You lean over him, your mouth just above his, voice a whisper of silk and steel.

“Then you’ll hold it.”

He sobs.

Because he knows what’s coming.

You stroke faster, the wand drifting closer, the pressure finally increasing. His body arches, tenses, his thighs trembling. He’s right on the edge.

You lean in again, licking a stripe up his throat before whispering:

“Don’t you dare cum.”

He tries. He tries so hard. But he’s been waiting eighteen long months. His mind is foggy, body burning, nerves alight with the promise of release.

And it breaks him.

He comes with a choked cry, body convulsing under your touch as his release spills across his belly and chest, thick and hot and endless. His entire body shudders from the force of it.

And the moment he’s finished you stop. The wand powers off with a click. And your hand stills. Silence settles in the room, save for Jungkook’s panting breaths and the soft whine of his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry…” He sounds wrecked. Wrecked and afraid.

You climb up beside him and stroke his hair back from his forehead.

“I know,” you say softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That was beautiful, bunny. But I told you not to cum.”

Tears prick at his eyes.

“I tried—I tried so hard—”

You hush him gently. “You did. And I’m proud of you.”

You press your lips to his temple and uncuff his wrists slowly, gently, massaging each one after the release.

“But you’ll need to be punished.”

Jungkook nods, broken and grateful. “Yes, Mistress. Please.”

You smile. “Don’t worry. That’ll come later.”

You let him curl up in your arms after that, pressing slow kisses to his flushed cheeks and whispering praise in his ear. You stroke his hair, gently bring him back down. He clings to you, boneless, sated, and soft.

Eventually—your hand drifts back between his thighs.

He gasps softly.

“You didn’t think you were done, did you?”

The cuffs are gone, but his wrists still tingle with the phantom ache of restraint.

Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes glassy and red rimmed, his body limp where it sinks into the bed. He’s flushed everywhere, chest rising and falling, thighs twitching with leftover tremors, cum drying sticky across his skin.

You sit beside him, naked and composed, with a wet towel in hand and that same unreadable look in your eyes. He knows that look. Knows it so well.

It means you’re checking in.

You don’t speak at first, just reach out and gently clean him. Your touch is soft. Wiping his chest, his belly, between his legs. He doesn’t even flinch when you wipe over his sensitive cock, still hard, flushed and twitchy from being pushed too far too fast.

He moans softly instead, half lidded eyes watching you work.

When you’re done, you lean forward and press your forehead to his.

“Color?” you whisper.

His throat works around the swell of emotion. “Green, Mistress.”

You cup his cheek with your clean hand, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheekbone.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he breathes. “Better than okay. I… I missed this. Missed you.”

The honesty in his voice carves right through you, and for a moment, the second time today, you falter. The hard edges soften. The roles blur. Your fingers slide into his hair and your lips meet his in a kiss that’s less command and more confession.

You whisper his name like a prayer. He whispers yours back like he’s scared it’ll disappear.

“Did I push too far?” you murmur, eyes searching.

Jungkook shakes his head immediately, pressing into your palm like a cat begging for affection.

“No. Please don’t hold back with me. I need this. I need you.”

You nod slowly, exhale against his jaw.

“Then I’ll take care of you. Just like always.”

You coax him to sit up so you can massage his shoulders and rub balm over the light marks left by the cuffs. He leans into every touch, humming softly, melting back against your body when you cradle him from behind. His hands come up to hold your forearms where they cross his chest, grounding himself in your presence.

“Thank you,” he whispers again, voice cracking with how much he means it.

You smile, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“My good boy,” you whisper.

And just like that—he shudders again. Moans at the praise, and his cock twitches back to life, still so responsive, so eager to please.

You notice, of course. You always notice.

“Looks like someone’s ready again,” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly down his torso until he’s shivering in your grasp.

Jungkook whines.

“Yes, Mistress. Please…”

You smile against his throat, kissing your way down his pulse point.

“Then hands back behind your head. Knees spread. Stay still while I decide what I want to do with you next.”

He obeys instantly. Because he always does.

—

He can’t see you.

The blindfold hugs snug across his eyes, cutting off the last of the ambient light. His breathing slows, deepens, as he settles back into submission. The sound of the drawer opening sharpens every nerve. The soft clink of buckles, the whisper of leather.

He knows what’s coming.

And he wants it.

He kneels again, this time on the bed, wrists bound behind his back in the new cuffs you’ve buckled together. His chest rises and falls with anticipation, muscles flexing as he adjusts to the vulnerable position.

You take your time.

You always do.

He hears you step around him, feels the shift of air as you circle. Every molecule of him is attuned to your presence. The soft click of your heels. The slight change in the mattress when you climb up behind him.

And then—smack.

He jerks, breath catching in his throat as your hand lands clean across his ass. Not too hard or light. Just enough to make his cock throb where it hangs heavy between his thighs.

He moans. Instinctively shifts forward.

You click your tongue.

“Back in place, Jungkook.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he pants, throat dry.

Another slap, this time to the other cheek. He moans louder, head falling forward. You lean in, tongue dragging over the faint red mark as your fingers squeeze and knead the flesh lovingly.

“Such a responsive boy,” you whisper. “You missed this, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he breathes. “Missed everything.”

You hum, pleased, and trail your fingers lower until you’re gently stroking his cock. He’s rock hard again. A bead of precum paints the tip, smearing down your palm as you tease him with a featherlight grip.

“Mm,” you muse. “So obedient. So needy. And to think you didn’t touch yourself once…”

“I wanted to,” Jungkook admits, voice tight. “Every night. Every time I thought of you. But I—I kept my promise.”

You reward him with another stroke. Another kiss between the shoulder blades. Another slap across his ass that has him biting down on a moan that still escapes.

When you finally unbuckle the cuffs and guide him onto his back, he whimpers at the relief in his arms and the heat still coiling in his belly.

You whisper, “Stay still,” and fasten the cuffs again, this time to the headboard. Then you run your palm over his blindfolded face, your thumb dragging across his parted lips before you slide two fingers into his mouth.

“Suck.”

He does.

Desperately.

And as he sucks, he hears the soft click of the bottle. The squelch of lube. The glide of something familiar being prepped above him. His cock twitches violently in response.

“Color?”

“Green, Mistress,” he gasps, lips wet.

“Good.”

When you finally push his legs up and over your shoulders, lubed fingers pressing inside him with practiced ease, Jungkook’s whole body sings. He groans shamelessly, tears welling beneath the blindfold as he rocks into your touch.

And once you’ve stretched him enough after all this time, you slide the strap on into him.

He cries out at the stretch. At the fullness. At the sound of your moan as you bottom out inside him. He never thought he could feel owned and worshipped at the same time, but here he is, spread and trembling and completely yours.

You fuck him slow at first. Deliberate. Measured. His ankles tremble on your shoulders, bound wrists yanking at the cuffs, head thrown back as you fuck him deeper with each thrust.

“God, you feel perfect like this,” you murmur, hands braced on his hips. “Taking me so well. Being so good for me.”

He sobs out a moan, completely undone.

“Say it,” you command softly. “Say who owns you.”

“You do,” he cries. “You own me, Mistress. Only you.”

You reward him with a sharper thrust, angling just right so the dildo taps against his prostate until he’s wailing through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t last long.

Between your rhythm, the slap of skin, the filthy praise pouring from your mouth, and the ache of need finally being met, Jungkook cums untouched and without warning, cock spurting over his abs and chest, whole body trembling like a man possessed.

And you don’t stop.

You slow down, soften your grip, and fuck him through every aftershock like you have all the time in the world.

The cuffs creak softly as his wrists tug against the headboard.

He’s panting hard, blindfold still in place, cum cooling on his abdomen, thighs trembling from the force of his orgasm.

Silence stretches.

Too long.

Your strap has already slid out of him, your touch no longer bracing his hips.

And Jungkook’s stomach knots.

He hadn’t meant to. He swore he’d last. Swore he’d hold on until you told him to let go. That’s what a good boy does. That’s what your good boy would do.

But he didn’t.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice shaking. “Mistress—”

Still, no touch. No praise. Just quiet.

“I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want to…” His words falter as panic creeps in. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re still watching him, silent and still. It’s not punishment, not truly, but it’s your favorite kind of discipline: space to think.

Jungkook’s voice cracks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to finish without permission.”

The desperation threads between each syllable like a plea.

“I just— It’s been so long, I tried—but you feel so good, you’re always so good to me, I just—”

He cuts himself off with a gasp when your fingers glide up his trembling thigh, smearing through his own release to press gently over his still hard cock.

“Do you think good boys cum without asking?”

“No, Mistress,” he whispers.

“So what does that make you?”

His breath catches. “A bad boy.”

“Mm. You didn’t used to be,” you hum. “I guess the military made you forget your place.”

“No!” The panic returns. “I remember. I remember everything. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me touch you—please let me taste you—please—”

You chuckle softly, cruel in the gentlest way.

“Oh, now you remember who you are.”

He nods quickly under the blindfold. “Yes, Mistress. Always yours. I never forgot. I swear.”

You loosen the cuffs slowly, not with mercy, but with intent. Dragging out the anticipation until Jungkook is free but still stays put. He doesn’t dare move without instruction. He wouldn’t.

“On your knees,” you say quietly.

He scrambles upright, kneeling between your legs at the edge of the bed, the blindfold still in place, chest heaving, body flushed and sticky with sweat and cum.

Your voice softens as you tilt his chin up.

“Look at you,” you murmur. “All messy and desperate… begging just to touch me.”

“Yes,” he breathes. “Please let me. I need you. I need to make you feel good. I missed your taste. I thought about it every night.”

You hum, pleased. “Every night?”

“Every night, Mistress.”

You finally remove the blindfold.

Jungkook blinks through the low light, eyes adjusting quickly to find you sitting on the bed in front of him. Nude, glistening, your thighs parted in invitation, your expression cool but undeniably pleased.

His mouth waters instantly.

“Show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you missed me.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

Jungkook leans in, kisses first. Long, hungry kisses to the inside of your thighs, your hips, the softness of your belly. It’s worshipful. Apologetic. Eager.

Then his tongue finds you again.

And everything else melts away.

He moans against your pussy, tongue dragging through your folds like he’s starving. Like this is his last meal. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing gently as he buries his face between your legs, nose bumping your clit, mouth licking and sucking with deep, unrelenting focus.

You sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “That’s it,” you murmur. “There’s my good boy.”

The sound he makes is practically a sob.

He doesn’t stop.

Not even when his jaw begins to ache. Not even when his cock twitches back to life, heavy and needy between his legs. All that matters now is you and your pleasure, your satisfaction, your forgiveness.

When you cum, thighs trembling around his head, fingers fisting his hair, your cries like music in his ears, Jungkook moans so loud it vibrates against you.

And still, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop licking even after you come. If anything, your orgasm makes him hungrier.

Your thighs clamp around his head as you ride out the high, trembling with every flick of his tongue, every suck to your clit, every whispered moan from his lips that vibrates right through you.

But then he changes it up, just slightly.

You feel the brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, slow and cautious at first. One hand slips under to support your ass, the other glides up between your folds, slippery with the mess he’s already made of you. His mouth never leaves your pussy, not for a second, as he presses one finger in.

Then another.

You gasp, hips twitching. He crooks them gently, finding your spot almost immediately, tongue still lapping softly at your clit.

“Fuck, Jungkook—” you breathe, your head tipping back, a sharp moan spilling from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your pussy, so low it’s more breath than sound. “I’m sorry for being bad, for finishing without permission. I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you—just let me make you feel good again, Mistress. Please.”

You grip his hair, yanking slightly as your orgasm builds again, even faster this time with his fingers curling just right, his lips sealing around your clit like he knows what you need before you even ask.

“I need to make it up to you,” he whines, voice tight with emotion. “I’ll do anything.”

Your orgasm tears through you like a wave, loud and messy and soaked. You jerk against his mouth, grinding down as your cries echo off the bedroom walls. Jungkook groans, drinking in every second, like the sound of your pleasure is the absolution he’s been begging for.

When you finally start to come down, body trembling and thighs slick, your chest heaving, Jungkook doesn’t retreat. He lifts his head slowly, mouth and chin wet with you, eyes wild with devotion and need.

And then you feel it.

His cock, thick and hard like velvet wrapped steel, nudging against your pussy.

He’s rocking into you gently, barely restrained, the tip of his cock bumping your clit with every roll of his hips. Just enough friction to make you moan. Just enough to torture him.

“I need you,” he pleads, lips brushing your inner thigh. “Please, Mistress. Please let me inside. Let me make you feel good—let me show you I’m still yours. That I never stopped being yours.”

Your silence nearly undoes him.

He keeps going anyway.

“Please… Please… I’ll beg for the rest of my life if I have to,” he says, voice cracking. “I need to feel you around me—I need to feel you.”

You wait until he’s on the edge of unraveling, his cock glazed in your slick, his body shaking with how badly he wants it.

Then—

“You may.”

That’s all you say.

But it shatters something inside him.

Jungkook growls, fingers curling into the sheets as he lines himself up and sinks in, balls deep in one slow, shaking thrust.

“Oh my fucking god,” he gasps, body folding over yours, chest trembling, mouth slack. “So warm… so tight… I missed this—I missed you.”

His restraint breaks.

He starts to move, fucking you like a man possessed. Each thrust is deep, deliberate, full of that intoxicating blend of apology and addiction. He ruts into you with abandon, pressing kisses to your face, your throat, your breasts, your mouth, mumbling filth and praise between gasps.

“So good… so perfect… my goddess… my everything…”

You clench around him and he shudders, hips stuttering as your nails drag down his back.

“I’ll never cum without permission again,” he groans. “I’ll be the best boy, I swear. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop needing me.”

Your reply is a moan, breathless and broken, and Jungkook takes it as gospel.

He keeps going until you’re shaking again, the coil tightening in your gut again. And this time, when you come, his name is the only thing on your lips.

—

You roll him gently off of you and onto his back, taking care not to jostle him too quickly. His breath catches. Still shaky, still caught somewhere between release and overwhelm, and you straddle his lap with slow intention, your thighs settling to either side of his warm, trembling body.

Your palms cup his face, thumbs brushing away the damp sheen across his cheeks and brow. His skin is flushed, pink with effort and emotion, eyes shut tight like he’s trying to trap something inside.

“Koo,” you whisper, voice low and laced with concern. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his forehead. “Baby. Look at me.”

His lashes flutter. His eyes open.

And the moment they meet yours, something inside him breaks open.

Not violently, there’s no sob, no collapse, but a gentle crumbling. Like a final wall finally lowering. Like something tender and fragile unfolding after being kept hidden for too long.

“I’m okay,” he croaks, though his voice trembles. “I just… you’re here. I’m here. No more counting days. No more waiting. No more sleeping on a thin mattress thinking about you until I pass out.”

You nod slowly, a lump swelling in your throat as you lower your forehead to his. Your fingers slip into his sweaty hair, stroking through the strands as your nose brushes his.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” you murmur, lips brushing against his as you speak. “So happy you’re safe. That I can touch you… hold you. Hear you breathe beside me.”

He gives a small, watery laugh. “You were always the only thing that felt real. Everything else was just noise. I kept thinking if I just made it through one more week… one more day… I’d get to feel this again.”

Your lips find his. Your mouths molding together like they’d been waiting for this exact fit all along.

And then, without a word, he guides himself back inside you.

There’s no rush, no power play, no teasing or edge of dominance. Just the slow, aching stretch of being joined again as he gasps quietly beneath you and your fingers clutch at his shoulders like you’ll float away without the anchor of his body.

You both moan in tandem, foreheads still pressed together. He holds you close, palms cradling your hips, his thumbs tracing the softness of your skin with a kind of awestruck gentleness that makes your chest squeeze tight.

You move together slowly. Naturally. The pace isn’t dictated by pleasure, but by need. By the quiet, shared desire to savor this moment.

His hands drift upward, one settling at the curve of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as if to keep you from vanishing.

You’re both so close it’s hard to tell whose breath is whose. Whose heartbeat thunders louder. Your moans mix into the same air. Your warmth curls around him like a prayer answered.

“I love you,” he breathes suddenly, like the words slipped from his chest without permission.

Your hands tighten in his hair, your hips grinding down, your body trembling around him.

“Cum for me,” you whisper, voice hoarse with love. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

He sobs as he comes. Quiet, strangled, drawn from someplace deep and private. The kind of release that feels like surrender. The kind of release that feels like home.

You follow not long after, the warmth of him inside you and the raw emotion in his eyes unraveling you in the most beautiful way. Your body pulses around him, and for a moment, the two of you just hold each other.

And when the world returns in slow focus, the sound of your shared breaths, the heat between your bodies, the tremor in his hands as he runs them along your waist, you know nothing else has ever felt more right.

—

You both stay still for a long time, hearts hammering, limbs tangled. The heat between your bodies slowly cools into something gentle, something quiet. It’s not awkward or heavy. It’s peace. Relief. A long held breath finally exhaled.

Eventually, you run your fingers down his spine, murmuring, “Come on, baby. Let’s shower.”

Jungkook makes a small sound, something halfway between a hum and a pout, before nodding. “Okay.”

He moves slowly, almost reluctantly, as you guide him into the bathroom.

The soft light of the sconces glows against the marble tile and fogs the mirror as you turn on the water. Jungkook stands behind you, hands ghosting your hips as he watches the steam rise. You glance at him in the mirror and smile, then reach back and lace your fingers through his.

When the water is warm enough, you both step in.

You guide him under the stream first, letting it cascade over his hair and shoulders, rinsing away the sweat and salt of everything you just shared.

Despite being the one who served eighteen long months, who grew broader and more powerful in your absence, Jungkook melts into you like he’s the one being protected. He bends down so his forehead tucks into the curve of your neck. His arms encircle your waist. And he doesn’t let go.

You let the water soak your hair and his, then reach for the shampoo. He stays still as you lather your hands and thread your fingers into his dark, wet strands. His breath hitches, chest rising and falling in slow rhythm as your nails lightly scratch his scalp. You massage him gently, murmuring as you work.

“So good, baby. You’ve been so, so good for me. Even when you were bad.”

Jungkook exhales a soft whimper, burying his face deeper into your skin.

“You followed every command,” you whisper against his ear. “Took everything I gave you. Didn’t stop once, even when it got hard.”

He clings to you tighter.

“And you came home to me.” You tilt his head back and rinse the suds away. “You made it back. I’m so proud of you.”

Jungkook sniffles but says nothing, letting the praise settle deep in his bones as you move to clean the rest of him. He stands obedient and still, but every time you lean in to scrub his chest or run the washcloth down his thighs, his hands find some part of you to hold—your hip, your lower back, your shoulder. As if to anchor himself. As if to remind his body you’re real.

You wash yourself quickly once he’s done, and when you shut off the water, Jungkook instantly reaches for the towel and wraps you in it before grabbing one for himself.

You dry off together in the quiet, exchanging soft touches and even softer smiles. And when you’re both finished, he swoops you into his arms with no warning, bridal style, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You laugh against his chest, draping your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying my entire world to bed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nuzzle into him, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment. “I missed you so much.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I missed you more.”

He carries you to bed and lays you down carefully, pulling the thick comforter up over you both before sliding in beside you. His arms wrap around you immediately, his body curling behind yours like he can’t stand to let there be any space between you. One of his legs hooks over yours. One arm slips under your neck, the other drapes over your waist.

You both lie like that, heartbeats slowly syncing, breaths easing into a shared rhythm.

“Are you really here?” he asks quietly, voice gravelly with exhaustion. “This isn’t… a dream?”

You reach back and cup his cheek, guiding his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “I’m here. You’re here. We’re okay.”

His grip on you tightens. “I never want to leave again.”

“You won’t have to,” you promise. “No more bases. No more night shifts. No more rationed phone calls.”

“Just us,” he breathes. “Just us.”

You nod and kiss him again.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words feather light against your skin. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

And then, finally, your eyes slip closed.

Jungkook’s breath warms the back of your neck. His thumb rubs lazy circles into your hip. And as the quiet of the room wraps around you, you fall asleep in his arms—safe, sated, and whole.

Home.

masterlist

[theyluvangel]

Sub!Kpop twt links

A/n: I’m alive and I’m aware &team is Jpop, but I added it anyways

Treating Jaehyun like the puppy he is (BND)

Anal play with dressed up Zhang Hao (ZB1)

Overstimulating Xiaojun (NCT)

Giving Anton a handjob (Riize)

Tied up and overstimulated Dino (SVT)

Changbin fucking himself in the shower (Skz)

Sensitive Mingyu (SVT)

Harua can’t handle the overstimulation (&team)

What Jungkooks actually doing in the military (BTS)

Mark cumming in his underwear (NCT)

Spanking Mingi while his dicks in between your legs (Ateez)

The videos Jisung sends to you during the day (Skz)

Jungwon when you’re not there to help him (enha)

Another a/n: Let me know if you guys want to see more nsfw links!

[chaepink]

can you write about sub yan cumming too fast and having to overstimulating himself for us ☺️

sub!yan, dom!reader, overstimulation, whining, crying, teasing, masturbation

“I-It hic! It h-hurts, [name]!” Your yandere looks at you with glazed, glassy eyes, tears forming in the corners and falling as he pumps his dick fast.

“But darling, this is your punishment for cumming too fast. You caused this for yourself.”

He lets out a cry as he runs his own thumb over the tip, the pleasure making him shiver and for pre cum to leak out even more. There’s a small puddle of it underneath his dick and it slowly grows larger every time he cums.

You giggle at the lewd sight of his spread legs and how he’s watching your every move, wanting you to get closer and touch him any where.

“F-Fuck [name].” He lets out a desperate whimper. How many times has he cummed now? Three? Four? Your yandere doesn’t know, the pleasure and pain fogging his mind and making it hard to think. All he knows is that he’s close again and although it hurts, he doesn’t want to stop. His hand on his dick speeds up as the pleasure overwhelms him again.

“I-I’m close ah! Please l-let me cum, p-please?”

Grinning at just how pathetic he looks, you nod, wanting to see him fall apart again just from his own hand.

He sees you nod and lets out a cry as he cums, cum shooting out his spent dick and onto his already stained chest and thighs. He looks absolutely lewd like this but he looks so pretty at the same time.

Seeing his hand slow down, you only shake your head at him and he whines, knowing the words you’ll say next.

“Did I say stop darling? You’re not done till I say you’re done baby.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[helenazbmrskai]

Monster in me & you: 3

Monster in me and you part 3 (prev. like chalk and cheese)

Pairing – Yan! Taehyung x READER

Genre – Yandere AU, Smut, Angst

Summary – You have episodes when you isolate yourself from everyone, and Taehyung has a hard time navigating through them, but once they’re over, the moments he gets to spend with you are rewarding.

Warning – mentally unstable reader, stalking behaviour, insinuated childhood neglect, unprotected sex, dom! reader, handjob, riding, lovemaking, cunnilingus, cumplay, multiple orgasms, dirty talk

Words – 3,2k

Rating – +18

part 1 // part 2 // masterlist

Sometimes there’s this feeling that you don’t want to deal with anyone. Your mindset shifts and turns up in this dark place that you only leave when the time is right. No force can make it go away.

The moodswings it pushes you into are unpredictable.

It’s hard for Taehyung when you do that anytime that switch flips he’s grovelling at your feet fighting for your attention. It’s hard for you to be in his space and your mood constantly changes with a flicker of emotion. Any sane person would have left you alone, but not him, the hard words that you say just fly over his head. You could tell him the meanest thing in the world and he would still be smiling at you.

He’s so crazy about you.

You can yell not to touch you or speak to you, he would surprisingly obey. The only command he doesn’t respond to is ’go away’.

He refuses to leave even when you’re sick of him. The four walls are not helping you to feel better. On some better days you leave the apartment to breathe in some fresh air, do some grocery shopping or buy something just for you. In the corner of your eye, you could see his silhouette watching you from afar walking behind you a few steps back. He’s not stalking you because he’s monitoring you per se, he’s just worried about you in his sick way. He was never good at expressing himself and never learnt how to show these things. In his head, some things just work abnormally due to his childhood neglect.

Living with him for quite some time you learnt how to read him like an open book.

Whenever you had a question about his life before you he answered without being too emotional. With busy parents, no one paid any attention to him his other two siblings had their lives going on as well leaving the small Taehyung alone most of the time. Taehyung doesn’t have a strong opinion on anything, he’s endlessly patient and sometimes drives you up the wall with how calm he is. He likes anything you like. He does anything you ask him to do. If you asked him to be your pretty obedient doll he would do it.

His obsession is choking you but other times when you have these episodes and he stays by your side till the very end you appreciate his devotion.

Once you calm down and the anger fades and these feelings pass by you’re able to be yourself again. Even since you were a child you had these episodes where you were unable to communicate with people. You didn’t want to be near them, talk to them or just be in the same room as them. There were weeks when you would isolate yourself from everyone and your habit comes with a cost each time. Some friends left you when they couldn’t reach you, tired of waiting even your family contacted you less and less.

At first, you thought it would be better to be alone when you feel like that so you can avoid hurting people.

Taehyung is the first one that you cannot shake off. His presence over some time even becomes quite calming. He became like a pillar that’s unshakeable.

You don’t remember when Taehyung sat next to you or when he put a film on the tv. Your eyes start to focus on the action movie that’s playing and your surrounding materialises in your vision. You realise that you have a soft blanket thrown over your lap and it’s very warm. Taehyung sits on the other side of the sofa mindful of your comment not to touch you even when usually he’s curled around you in situations like this.

You realise you miss him.

He did all those little things for you when you felt like you were at your lowest. He’s deprived not just of your love and interest but physical touch as well, you could tell from how tense he’s been sitting. His hands are placed on his lap intertwined as if he wanted to make sure his hands will not wander absentmindedly.

His head perks up when he feels you moving around. You slowly rest your head on his shoulder as if to break the silence yet he doesn’t react. You could feel his hands shaking as he let them rest on either side of his torso. He’s making the position more comfortable so you can actually lean against his chest.

It’s sweet how he’s nervously watching out for your reactions. He doesn’t dare to hold you so you find his hand in the darkness and place it on your thigh relaxing more into his embrace. Taehyung lets out a shaky breath near your ear you could hear the relief in his small sigh. He finally lets his chin rest on your shoulder in a relaxed manner. The tension he had before left his rigid muscles entirely by the time you two cosied up to each other. He wraps himself around you touching you wherever he can.

”What is this movie about?” Your face slightly turns to catch his eyes. There’s no surprise that his gaze was already on you by the time you looked at him. He blinked flatly two times before he looked back at the screen.

”I don’t really know.” His response was sheepish and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at how cute he looked right now.

”Were you looking at me the entire time?” It’s pointless as you already acquired the answer from his embarrassed stare. Your body turns sideways resting on his thighs. Slowly you wrap your hands around his neck smiling when he shudders the moment your lips make contact with his skin. Your pointer finger trails down his chin listening to his little gasp of pleasure as you kiss down his neck.

”Sorry for ignoring you.” You had to say it out loud as guilt rips through you. It hits you each time one of those episodes ends.

”Don’t say sorry.” Taehyung shakes his head without thinking. You melt into his shy kiss as he presses his lips on yours for a moment.

”Do you still love me?” The answer should be obvious but there’s still doubt in you. Taehyung doesn’t waste his time in proving his love to you, he doesn’t want you to spend another second imagining that he’s not in love with you, obsessed with you.

His feelings will forever be unchanging. He shows it to you with each touch and kiss. Holds you close to his body, and caresses every inch of you as your mouth fully explores his. His tongue slides smoothly over yours sensually, even when he’s kissing you so deeply he cannot keep his happy noises down.

He’s very happy that you’re finally touching him. His cock is getting harder and harder the longer you kiss him.

Afraid that his excitement will place pressure on you he tries to hide his hardness but miserably fails when his hips buck into you from below after a playful bite on his lower lip makes him jolt. He whines with tears in his eyes when you rub the tip over his pants. It’s so easy to make him cry. Finding his pathetic attempts amusing.

”You can touch it.” You encourage him to pull his cock out of his pants. You give him space so he can wrap his veiny hand around his shaft. His hand is so much bigger than yours that he has no problem stroking his length and rubbing the tip with his thumb. Taehyung calls out your name each time he moves his hand, seeking approval from you.

Sealing his moans with your lips, you continue to dominate the kiss as he barely manages to follow your movements, the noises he lets out keep interrupting the flow but you don’t mind kissing him dumb.

Both of your lips are wet with saliva and swollen from the heavy makeout when you break it. Taehyung stops pleasuring himself when you get up from his lap but you reassure him it’s fine if he continues. Once you start taking off your clothes one by one his hand moves again, and watching you uncover yourself results in more fresh precum sliding down his length. The sounds he lets out are sinful.

”Come here.” Once your panties are down your legs you put one leg up on the couch to give him comfortable access. His hand finds leverage on your standing leg holding you by gripping your knees his face buried in the apex of your thighs. You don’t need to give him more guidance as he slips near the edge of the couch.

Taehyung eagerly opens his mouth to taste you, the tip of his tongue pointedly flicks over your clit sending a wave of thrill all over your body. The muscles in your legs tense up caging his face between your thighs to keep him there. He wasn’t going to move anyway. Opens his mouth wide flattening his tongue he moves the wet muscles up and down your slick folds collecting your musky taste is his only response.

You hear his laboured breathing and feel the cooling air around your heated mound. His mouth is as busy as his hand that picks up where he left off dragging his cock up and down pleasuring himself throughout never ceasing his fervent licking. Parts your folds with long strokes finding each nerve in your pussy that makes it throb.

”You can cum anytime.” You tell him between moans of your own that he can let go if he wants and he does. He cums from fisting his cock that’s the only time his tongue slows down and gives you harder licks, desperate to let it all out but maintaining his duty to get you closer to your orgasm as well.

His hand is covered in cum unsure if you would let him he asks you with puppy eyes if he could still touch you with his filthy fingers.

”Hmn, go ahead.” You smile, finding his expression so hot as he looks so exhausted and content with just one orgasm. Your fingers curl in his hair scraping his scalp a little that only makes it harder for him to keep his eyes open. He always loved it when you played with his hair especially when he’s going down on you.

Taehyung rubs his cum coated fingers over your folds spreading the whiteness all over before collecting more from his oozing tip and pushing it into your hole. His wet fingers move with squelching noises but the loudest noise is your joint moans when he enters you. One finger is barely enough to sate you as you ask him to put another in, move it faster and harder. He obeys without you having to ask he could tell from the impatient hip thrusts that tried to push his fingers in deeper.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as Taehyung goes back to abusing your enlarged clit with his precision licks. Paired up with his fingers curling and thrusting just at the right speed and place it doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits. He doesn’t let up his efforts unless you’re shaking and pulling away from overstimulation. He tries to clean you up even when his face becomes a wet mess in the process.

”So dirty.” You wipe his face with your thumb but the gesture does little to help him clean up. His cock is half hard as you wrap your fingers around it still wet from his previous release. ”I’m your dirty b-boy.” Taehyung holds onto your hips pushing his face into your stomach mumbling as you start a slow pace, pumping his length into fullness.

The whiny moans are subdued as he pushes his face more into your skin. Getting too hot to handle you let him go just enough that he could get rid of his last remaining clothes. ”Please, I’ll be real good. Your good boy. Fuck me, please. I don’t know how much more I can take.” Laying down naked on the couch his erection standing tall as he rests against the soft pillows he continues to beg and plead. Moving on top of him, you impatiently roll your hips trapping his cock between your stomachs the friction has his head thrown back and ask you desperately to finally fuck him.

”Fuck me, use me.” His voice cracks and raises as you keep grinding, his pleasure is getting desperate.

”I’m not going to use you this time.”You can feel his cock throbbing against your opening. Warm, hard and slick and the veins throb and pump all the blood into it. You can feel it pulse through the palm of your hand. You guide him into you slowly sitting down till each inch deeply penetrates you.

He barely registers your answer in his mind, confused his eyebrows furrow for a second before you show him the way. Firmly placing your hand on his back you arch it and replace the space with pillows until he’s almost half up.

”I won’t fuck you either.” You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, whispering, moving down his chin and neck with more marks.

"Fucking you is no longer enough." Breathlessly rocking your hips back and forth you push his seated cock against your clamping walls. Tae squirms under you, and both of you pulse around each other.

His glassy eyes barely focus on your naked form towering over him. His heart is beating one mile per hour under your fingertips. "No, n-no. Please." He panics when he doesn't understand what you mean. Even if he tried with your teasing movements he couldn't do more than gasp and caress the skin on your hips and waist.

You silence him by sealing his lips with yours, your tongue prods into his mouth without resistance. Your passionate actions only rile him up further, his cock twitches inside you and he's barely able to kiss you back properly with his constant moans and whines interrupting. Your hot tongue steals his breath away as you chase his taste.

It makes you smile how he chases after you pull away. With your fingers, you kneed the flesh of his shoulders and arms giving it a few squeezes.

You kiss the corner of his pouty mouth and leave more traces behind on his neck and chest. Some slight movement of your hips is enough to make his back arch, he must be painfully hard right now.

"I'll move slow like this." True to your words you start moving slowly your hips going up and down on his cock, putting more strain on your thighs. Both of your palms are placed on his rapidly moving stomach for leverage. This way you feel him inside intensely the slow drag of his cock against your walls hits each nerve warming you up.

"Does it feel good making love to me?" Your moans mixed with your words against the shell of his ears almost make him blow his load at once. Taehyung takes in a shaky breath his fingers leave small dents on your skin as he holds you so tight, fighting against his need to cum. It’s the closest you’ve ever felt with him emotionally and physically.

Showing him is way more fun. "Yes, I love it. Don't stop, it feels so good. Yes, yes, yes."

Seeing how your words start to make sense in his head. He realises that you not wanting to use and fuck him would mean that this is going to be a new level at being intim with each other. He keeps chanting yes between desperate moans.

It's all new, there's no urgency in your hip rolls and if he conccentrates enough he could feel how you tighten around him when his curved tip hits a favourable spot, your warm wet pussy is practically shaped around his cock, you fit him like a glove only made for his size to satisfy you.

The veins lining his thick length and the pulsing is felt with every thrust.

"I can't hold it, it feels too good." Taehyung tries to stop your movements by digging his nails into your sides desperately but he doesn't have the strenght to halt your strokes when it feels so good.

He's not the only one feeling that way as your walls are getting tighter around him, you can feel the pleasure building with each drag of his cock. "Just a bit more." You mumble completely lost in the feeling at the moment. You barely register how he tenses up underneath you, trying to cater to your wishes.

"I-I can't," His tears are free falling at this point but even as he says continuosly that he can't he keeps holding it in as you ride him.

Caressing the back of his head you push his face into your neck holding him close as you feel yourself getting over the edge.

"Good boy, you can cum now." Giving him permission is all he needs to release his hot seed deep inside you, his cock throbs and pulses with his cum oozing out, your mixed fluids ruining the sofa beneath you.

"This was amazing." You sigh with a hint of satisfaction in your voice. Your light chuckle paints a smile on Taehyung's face. Nuzzles with his nose into your rapidly beating pulse point. He soothes your beating heart with wet kisses along your chest and neck.

"I love you." Drunk from his previous high Taehyung kisses the words into your skin, caresses your back with his big hands shaping soothing circles with his fingers as you both calm down.

"I love you too," Taehyung freezes hearing your confession. This is the first time you ever said that to him. He actually start contemplating in his head if he just imagined it but when your gazes met he became sure he heard you right. You looked at him with such a tender gaze that he practically melted into you.

He held you close to his chest and you hugged him back just as strongly.

"Love your cock too." With a little smirk you kiss the corner of his lips, the little confession is enough to stir him up. Realising that he's still inside you with his cum slowly dripping from your hole it helps little to keep himself composed. Sex always feels good with you, you just know what he likes without him having to explicitly tell you. Everytime he thinks it cannot get any better it just does.

"Did you have fun?" It's a lighthearted question as you wipe his tears away and he chuckles when you pepper his face with small kisses.

"I always do." Taehyung kisses you back, slowly pushing his tongue into your mouth to convey his sincere feelings. "No matter what you do I'll always love you. You can hit me, curse me, yell at me."

His confession should be alerting. No one should tolerate being hit or disrespected but it does make you feel calm. Knowing that he will never leave you.

"Good." The shared kiss is full of passion.

[jkwrites-m]

Extra Credit (1)

Pairing: uni student!Jungkook x uni teacher!female reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 9.3k

Summary: Jungkook falls for his professor. She makes the rules - and he loves breaking them.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, cursing, dom!female reader, sub!Jungkook, age gap (both 18+), sexual tension, power imbalance, teasing, fixation, power play, slight emotional manipulation, “good boy” 😮‍💨 explicit: dom/sub dynamics, kissing, handjob, oral (f. & m. Receiving), riding, unprotected sex, edging (!!)

A/N: 2 hours later… heyyyyy anon 🫶 hopefully this is what you wanted, if not lmk! and I’ll work on something else but this just flew out of me. I was in the editing process and added an extra 2k words bc it just felt right 🤭

MASTERPOST ��� LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ next

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It started with her heels.

I was already two minutes away from walking out. 

Hungover, hoodie barely on, no clue why I even enrolled in Chemistry 204 when I knew I’d probably flunk it by midterms. This was supposed to be a throwaway class- just some gen-ed requirement I’d forget about the second I passed it.

Then she walked in.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound echoed off the walls before I ever saw her. Slow. Sharp. Confident. Like she owned the floor under her. I glanced up- and fuck me, everything stopped.

She was… something else.

Tight blouse, dark skirt clinging to her curves like it had been sewn on her skin, lips painted in a color that made my mouth dry up. She walked like she knew we were all staring, like she’d counted on it.

My pulse was racing before she even spoke.

“Good morning,” she said, voice calm, rich, like velvet dragged across bare skin. “I’m Professor Y/N. This is Chemistry 204, and if you’re here to sleep or slack off, you’ll fail. I can promise you that.”

I felt my ears go hot.

I ducked my head, trying to act like I wasn’t already fantasizing about her throwing me out of class just so I could watch her mouth move again.

Jimin nudged me from the seat next to mine. “Dude. You’re literally salivating.”

“I’m not,” I hissed, even though I was a little.

She started handing out syllabi, walking row by row. And when she passed, her perfume hit me- something warm, like vanilla, but not too sweet. Clean. Dangerous. I stared at my desk like it held the secrets to the universe.

Then her voice. Right above me.

“Mr… Jeon?”

My throat closed. I looked up, and there she was. Looking right at me.

“Y-Yes.”

Her lips curved. Not a smile. Not a smirk. Just… something knowing. “Try not to fail my class.”

And just like that, she moved on. Like it meant nothing. Like she hadn’t just rearranged the entire structure of my brain chemistry with one look and seven words.

Jimin leaned over again, barely containing his laughter. “Ohhh, bro. You’re done for.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

My hands were clenched. My chest tight. She was already across the room again, giving someone else the kind of look that made me want to fight whoever they were.

I had no idea how I was going to survive this semester.

All I knew was that I wanted her to say my name again. That same tone. That same amused edge. Like she already knew every dirty thought racing through my head.

And God, there were a lot of them.

═══════

She wasn’t looking at me.

Not directly, anyway. But every time I dared to glance up from the god-awful list of elements and safety rules in front of me, I swore her eyes brushed over mine. Like she knew. Like she felt it.

My stomach wouldn’t stop flipping.

“You’re so obvious,” Jimin muttered, leaning in. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Am not.”

“You are literally chewing your pencil and blushing like a schoolgirl.”

I dropped the pencil.

The first lab assignment was some basic formulaic reaction. Something about ionic bonds, but I couldn’t make sense of any of it. The paper might as well have been blank. All I could focus on was the sharp click of her heels circling the lab again, moving from table to table, her hips swaying with every step, her voice low and composed as she corrected some kid for not wearing safety goggles properly.

And then, suddenly, she was behind me.

I felt her before I heard her. A warmth along my back, the subtle scent of that same perfume from earlier- something warm and clean and sharp.

“You’re off by two protons, Mr. Jeon.”

I flinched. My fingers stumbled on my calculator.

“I- I thought- ”

“Clearly,” she interrupted, and then leaned closer. Her hand brushed over mine, adjusting the numbers on my worksheet. “Your aluminum ion is missing its charge. Pay attention.”

Her breath hit the back of my neck. I stopped breathing entirely.

She didn’t step back. Not right away. She lingered there, close enough that I could feel the fabric of her blouse rustle slightly as she moved. Then finally - finally - she pulled away, heels clicking off to the next table like she hadn’t just pulled my brain out of my skull and dropkicked it across the room.

Jimin was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Did she just-?” he whispered.

“I don’t- yeah- I don’t know.”

“Are you sweating?”

“I think I blacked out.”

“Dude.”

I dropped my face into my hands, groaning low. “I’m gonna fail this class.”

“No, bro. You’re gonna die in it.”

When I looked up again, she was standing at the front of the class writing some formula on the board, but her hand paused for just a split second. Just long enough for her head to tilt slightly… toward me.

I sat up straighter, not even thinking.

And then she smiled- barely. The kind of smile you could miss if you blinked. The kind that wasn’t meant for the class.

It was meant for me.

And I was gone.

═══════

The second the bell rang, I was out of my seat- heart racing, mind a total blur. I shoved my notebook into my bag without checking anything I’d written down, which probably didn’t matter because I hadn’t really written anything.

“You were twitching the whole time,” Jimin said as we stepped into the hallway. “Like she was controlling you with telepathy.”

“She wasn’t,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

“She basically whispered in your ear and adjusted your hand like it was foreplay.”

“Jesus, Jimin.”

“What? I’m not wrong.”

I glared at him but couldn’t argue. The feel of her hand guiding mine, the whisper of her breath against my neck. I could still feel it. Like my skin had absorbed the memory and refused to let go.

We reached the end of the hallway when I realized I’d forgotten my lab sheet on the desk.

“Shit- I’ll meet you at the quad,” I told Jimin, turning around.

Back in the lab, it was mostly empty. A few students still packing up. She was still there, seated behind her desk, glasses perched low on her nose as she reviewed a stack of papers.

I moved fast, snatching my sheet off the lab table, hoping not to be noticed. But as I turned to leave-

“Mr. Jeon.”

I froze.

She didn’t look up at first. Just made a note on the corner of a page with her pen, so slowly, so deliberately.

Then she looked up.

I swallowed hard. “Y-Yes?”

“You forgot your evaluation sheet.” She held up another paper- my lab report, apparently. “Come get it.”

I stepped forward, trying to walk normal. Trying not to let my legs turn to jelly.

She handed me the paper, but didn’t let go right away. Her eyes flicked up to mine, and for a second, the lab was too quiet.

“Next time,” she said softly, “try to stay present. You were… distracted today.”

“I- I wasn’t- ”

Her eyes dropped to the paper. “I left a comment. You might want to read it… thoroughly.”

My fingers curled around the edge of the sheet as she finally released it. I nodded, heart hammering, and turned to leave before I made a fool of myself again.

Outside, I opened the paper and scanned it.

There it was- her red ink looping elegantly across the bottom of the sheet:

“Try harder next time, Mr. Jeon.

Unless you want me to keep correcting your form.”

I stood there like an idiot, eyes stuck on that one sentence, while every part of me ignited.

“DUDE,” Jimin’s voice suddenly screamed behind me. “Tell me she did not just flirt with you on paper.”

I nearly dropped the sheet.

“Were you spying?!”

“I was walking back to get you,” he said, peering over my shoulder. “Okay, holy shit- that’s not even subtle.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I muttered, though my face was on fire.

“Oh, no. That was a coded message. She wants you to flirt back.”

“I can’t flirt with her,” I hissed. “She’s my professor.”

Jimin grinned like the devil himself. “Exactly. So the question is… are you gonna be a good boy?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

═══════

The next class, I walked in ten minutes early.

I told myself it was just to show responsibility, but really, I just needed to see if she’d say something- if last time meant something. I hadn’t slept much the night before, not with that damn note burning a hole in my backpack and her voice replaying in my head on a loop.

She was already at her desk, sipping coffee and flipping through a folder. She didn’t even glance up when I came in. And somehow, that was worse.

I took my seat. Tried to look normal. Breathed slow. One of those deep, calming breaths I practiced before performances. Except none of that helped when she finally looked up.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, eyes calm, unreadable. “Stay after class today.”

My mouth opened. Nothing came out. Just a tiny squeak of acknowledgment.

═══════

The entire period was a blur. I don’t remember the lab instructions. Don’t remember the worksheet. All I know is that every second felt like it ticked by in slow motion.

When class ended, students poured out, and I stayed seated, hands tight on the edge of the lab bench. My pulse was in my throat.

She closed the door behind the last student and walked back, heels echoing, slow and controlled.

“Follow me.”

I followed her like a dog on a leash.

She led me to the back of the lab where the sink station was. Rows of dirty glassware from the experiments sat there waiting. Beakers. Flasks. Tubes. Endless.

“You’re here to clean,” she said, gesturing with a gloved hand. “You’ve been inattentive. This is extra credit.”

“R-Right,” I muttered, grabbing the soap and nozzle, not daring to look up.

She stood behind me at first, then to the side. Watching. Not saying a word.

The room was dead quiet except for the sound of water and glass tapping gently against the sink. I could feel her eyes burning into me.

After about five minutes of silence, I felt her step closer.

“Are you always this obedient?”

I froze.

“Excuse me?”

“I give you a simple command, and you listen without question,” she said, voice smooth, soft, dangerous. “You haven’t asked what the cleaning is worth. Haven’t asked why. You just… followed.”

I turned my head slightly. “I thought it was an assignment.”

“Is it?” she asked, stepping so close I could see her reflection in the metal faucet. “Or is there another reason you’re so quick to do what I say?”

My grip on the glass tightened.

“I- You said I was distracted. I didn’t want to- ” I stopped talking. My words were unraveling. So was I.

She stepped behind me now, leaning in. I felt her breath again.

“Try not to shatter anything,” she whispered, fingers brushing the inside of my wrist just lightly enough to send sparks up my arm. “Some things are delicate.”

I stood perfectly still.

When she stepped away again, the cold rushed back in.

“Leave them for now,” she said, her voice back to calm. “You’ll come in earlier next week. We’ll continue then.”

“Yes, Professor.”

She walked to the door and opened it without looking back.

“Dismissed.”

I stepped out, legs shaking, barely able to hold my backpack strap.

Jimin was standing just down the hall, leaning against the wall with a smirk like he’d been waiting all day.

“I knew it,” he said.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d start cleaning for free just to breathe her air.”

I didn’t answer.

Because it wasn’t the air I was breathing.

It was her.

═══════

The next week, I arrived fifteen minutes early.

This time, there was no pretending. No “I’m here for extra credit” excuse. I knew what this was. She knew too. I think that was the most dangerous part- how aware we both were, yet no one said it out loud.

She greeted me with a glance. No smile. No words. Just a glance that said, So you came back.

I started cleaning beakers without being told.

Her heels echoed faintly against the tile floor as she moved around the lab, prepping supplies for the day’s experiment. Her silence was more commanding than any speech. I scrubbed, rinsed, dried, my hands shaking slightly despite the repetition. I could still feel her fingertips on my wrist from last time.

After ten minutes, I heard her stop behind me.

“You missed a spot,” she said, stepping forward.

I glanced down at the beaker I was drying. Crystal clear.

“I- I don’t see- ”

She reached over, her fingers brushing mine as she took the beaker from my hands. Then she turned it in the light, her chest barely grazing my arm. I swallowed hard.

“There,” she said softly, pointing at nothing. Her voice dropped. “Or maybe you were just distracted again.”

I couldn’t speak. My entire body had gone still.

“Mr. Jeon,” she murmured, setting the beaker down carefully. “Are you easily distracted… or just easily controlled?”

I flinched.

She smirked. “Interesting.”

Before I could come up with any kind of reply, the first students began to filter into the lab. She stepped away instantly, heels clicking back to the front like nothing happened.

Class went on as usual.

Except nothing was usual anymore.

I couldn’t focus on the experiment. Couldn’t read the formulas. All I could think about was the whisper of her fingers against mine, the way her breath had curled against my neck, the scent of her perfume slowly burning its way into my skull.

When class ended, I packed up slowly, hoping maybe she’d call out to me again. But she didn’t.

I started heading out, heartbeat still a little too loud in my ears.

Then I heard her voice, smooth and quiet.

“Mr. Jeon.”

I turned around.

She was still behind the desk, one hand resting lazily on her notes, eyes calm but unreadable.

“Try harder next time,” she said. “Or I might have to… discipline you.”

My breath hitched.

She didn’t wait for a reply. She bent her head back to her notes like I didn’t exist.

But I did. I existed in every word she’d just said.

I walked out of that room shaking, like my body hadn’t caught up with what my brain had just registered.

Jimin met me outside again. “Well?”

“She said… she might discipline me.”

He choked on his drink. “You mean like… in a grade way?”

I stared blankly at the wall.

“No,” I whispered. “No, I don’t think so.”

═══════

I stared at her office door for a full minute before I knocked.

It was Friday. Cloudy. The kind of gray that sat heavy over the campus, cool air brushing over my skin as I stood alone in the hall, palms sweating despite the chill.

I told myself it was just for help. That I needed to raise my grade. But the truth was, I hadn’t slept right in days. Not since she said the word discipline with that look on her face, like she knew exactly what it did to me.

So here I was. About to walk into the lion’s den like I hadn’t spent all week thinking about her voice in the dark.

I knocked.

“Come in,” she said, calm and clear.

I opened the door slowly. Her office was warm, light filtering in through the half-closed blinds. Shelves of books lined the back wall. Her desk was cluttered in a curated way, like everything had a place, even the chaos.

She was sitting behind it, glasses on, pen in hand. She didn’t look surprised to see me.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, motioning to the seat across from her. “You’re early.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I… wanted to ask about the last lab.”

She nodded, didn’t press.

I sat down.

The chair was low. Too low. Which meant I had to sit up straight to look her in the eye. Which meant I was fully aware of how long her legs looked crossed beneath that desk.

“So,” she said, sliding a paper toward me. “Let’s look at where you went wrong.”

I reached for it, but our hands brushed again.

There it was- that spark.

I swallowed hard and focused on the page. I couldn’t read it. Didn’t even try.

“You need to be more thorough,” she said, voice soft but edged. “You’re sloppy with your ions. Your math is lazy. It’s almost like you’re not trying.”

“I am,” I said quickly. “Trying, I mean. I just- chemistry’s never been- ”

“ -your strength,” she finished for me. Then her voice dropped lower. “I know. That’s why you’re here.”

I looked up.

Her eyes were locked on mine. Unmoving. Calm. Too calm.

The air thickened.

She stood.

Walked around the desk.

Sat on the edge.

Right in front of me.

Her knee nearly touched mine. She didn’t adjust her skirt. Didn’t move back. I could smell her again, something clean and dark, like cedar and sin.

“You want extra credit, Mr. Jeon?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

I nodded, too fast.

Her lips curved just slightly. “Then sit still. And listen carefully.”

I froze.

She leaned in- not touching me, not yet, but close enough that her presence overwhelmed the space between us.

“There are rules,” she whispered. “And you will follow them if you want to pass. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

I blinked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes… Professor.”

I swallowed. “Yes, Professor.”

Then she stood, walked back to her chair, and resumed grading papers like nothing happened.

I sat there stunned, fists clenched in my lap, trying not to burst into flames.

“You’re dismissed,” she said without looking up.

I practically ran out.

And I was still hard when I reached the end of the hall.

═══════

It was a different day. A different lecture.

Same obsession.

I’d managed to make it through most of the class without combusting- barely. She’d worn a black blouse today, sheer enough in the right light to show the outline of her bra if you stared too long. So, of course, I stared too long.

She didn’t call on me during the lesson. Didn’t make eye contact much. But I could feel her awareness in the way she moved, in the quiet control she had over the room.

It made me ache.

When the bell rang, my heart was still thudding like it had spent the whole hour doing laps in my chest. I had one foot out the door when her voice cut through the noise like a wire pulled tight.

“Mr. Jeon.”

I stopped.

Turned.

She was still seated, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly still behind her desk. She didn’t look up right away- just tapped her pen against her lips with that same slow, deliberate rhythm that always did things to me.

“I have one more thing for you,” she said, finally lifting her gaze. “Sit.”

I obeyed, because of course I did.

The classroom was already half-empty, the shuffle of feet and zip of backpacks fading into the hallway as I returned to my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath I took.

She didn’t move from her chair this time. Just watched me, eyes calm but piercing.

“We’re going to do an oral quiz.”

I blinked. “A what?”

“Oral,” she repeated, her tone clipped but soft. “Verbal. Spoken. I ask, you answer. No thinking. Just reaction.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Her eyes locked on mine. “Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” I said.

She leaned back slightly, her voice smooth as silk. “Name the element with the atomic number six.”

“Carbon,” I replied quickly.

“Good,” she said. “And the bond formed between two nonmetals?”

“Covalent.”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “What happens when heat is applied too quickly to a volatile compound?”

“It… it expands. Reacts. Possibly combusts.”

Her voice dropped a note. “That’s right. Too much heat too fast… and things explode.”

I shifted in my seat.

She smiled like she’d seen it.

“Name one quality that makes a reaction irreversible.”

“Time,” I said, before thinking. “Or… exposure to heat. Pressure. Contact.”

She tilted her head. “Interesting. Contact. Do you believe in chain reactions, Mr. Jeon?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I swallowed, her gaze making it hard to think. “Because one thing leads to another. You can’t always stop it once it starts.”

Her smile deepened. “Exactly.”

She stood, slowly walking toward the door as if to signal we were done. But just before she opened it, she turned.

“You’re doing well. But that last lab… you broke two safety rules.”

“I- I didn’t mean-”

She turned toward me, gaze dark and unreadable. 

“One last question.”

I sat straighter.

“What happens,” she said, voice slow and deliberate, “when someone disobeys lab protocol?”

“I- I don’t know,” I stammered.

She stepped closer again, her body just inside my space. But it felt like she was everywhere. On my skin. In my head.

“Discipline,” she whispered, eyes locked on mine.  “Because I expect you to follow rules. My rules.”

Her smile was slow, satisfied.

She reached out and straightened the collar of my hoodie like it had offended her. Her fingers lingered there, just long enough to make my pulse jackhammer in my chest.

“Good boy,” she murmured.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

She opened the door. “That’s all for now. See yourself out.”

And like a complete idiot, I stumbled into the hallway- heart hammering, throat dry, my pants a little too tight and my thoughts a little too wrecked.

Jimin texted the second I hit the quad.

Jimin: you alive?

Jungkook: barely.

Jimin: she kill you or kiss you?

Jungkook: neither.

Jimin: holy shit. that’s worse.

I looked back at the hallway behind me like it might still be on fire.

He was right.

It was worse.

═══════

Two days passed.

Two painfully slow, distracting, blood-rushing-behind-my-eyes kind of days. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way her fingers brushed mine. The way she called me “good boy” like it was a reward. The look she gave when I followed her instructions a little too perfectly.

So when I got the email-

See me during office hours, Thurs. @ 3. – Prof. Y/N

-my stomach dropped.

And soared.

I showed up five minutes early again, pretending not to be nervous. Lying to myself.

She was already there, sipping coffee, sunlight pouring in through her blinds like it had been placed there just for her. She wore another fitted blouse, sleeves rolled to her elbows, the collar just a little looser than it should’ve been.

She didn’t look up when I stepped in.

“Close the door.”

I obeyed.

She motioned to the chair. “Sit.”

This was the same chair. The same air. But everything felt hotter this time. Louder, somehow. My nerves were on fire.

“I reviewed your last lab,” she said. “Better. You’re improving.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She glanced up finally. Her eyes met mine- and held.

“But your focus,” she added, “still needs work.”

I licked my lips. “I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t enough.”

She stood slowly, walked around the desk again- like she was circling me.

My heart picked up.

She leaned one hip against the front of the desk. This time, she didn’t sit. She stood close. Her thigh brushed against my knee, intentional or not- I couldn’t tell.

“You need discipline, Mr. Jeon.”

My breath hitched.

“I- ”

“Not punishment,” she said softly, eyes dipping. “Guidance. You respond to structure, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You follow commands well.”

I shifted. “Maybe I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

That made her smile- barely. It was there and gone like lightning.

Her hand reached out. Not far. Just resting on my knee. Light. Casual.

But not casual.

She leaned in a little. “You like being told what to do, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

She looked down at her fingers on my knee.

Then- 

A knock at the door.

She moved instantly, hand pulling back, body shifting away like nothing had happened.

“Yes?” she called.

The door cracked open.

Jimin’s head poked through. “Yo. Sorry- am I interrupting?”

I nearly choked on my own spit.

Y/N didn’t even blink. “Just finishing up a consult. What do you need, Mr. Park?”

Jimin looked between us, suspicious as hell. “I was just looking for Jungkook. We’ve got rehearsal.”

“Of course,” she said. Perfectly neutral. Professional. “Mr. Jeon, you’re dismissed.”

I stood, face burning, avoiding Jimin’s eyes as I grabbed my backpack.

“Thanks… Professor,” I muttered, voice lower than I meant.

She nodded without looking at me. “Remember what we discussed.”

Oh, I would.

Jimin followed me down the hall, silent for three full seconds before blurting out:

“Did she just touch your knee?”

“Shut up.”

“Bro- are you blushing?”

“I said shut up.”

“She was definitely flirting. I don’t even have a degree in chemistry and I felt that.”

I didn’t reply.

I was still stuck on the way she said discipline like it was a promise.

═══════

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, it was her.

Professor Y/N.

Not in the classroom. Not in her office. But in shadows. Heat. Movement.

The dream didn’t start like a dream. It started like memory- me sitting in her office again, her voice low, asking questions that had nothing to do with science.

Do you always obey this easily, Jungkook?

Would you let me correct you?

And then… her fingers. On my knee. My thigh. Tracing up.

She whispered in my ear, breath hot.

You like it when I’m in control, don’t you?

God, I did. I do.

Her hands slid under my hoodie in the dream- my skin burning under every ghost of her touch. I could feel the fabric of her blouse against my chest. The press of her thigh between mine. The smell of her perfume on my mouth.

She kissed me first.

Soft. Sure.

Then bit my lip when I didn’t kiss back fast enough.

“Speak when spoken to,” she breathed, and something inside me just… gave in.

I wanted to kneel. I wanted to be under her. I wanted to please her in ways that had nothing to do with school.

I woke up in a sweat.

Hard. Shaking. My sheets twisted around my legs like I’d wrestled with them in my sleep. My heart was racing. My hands were clenched.

The clock said 3:12 a.m.

I didn’t sleep again.

═══════

The next day, I walked into class like a man possessed.

Every breath I took, I swore I could smell her. Every word she said echoed like it had two meanings. Her blouse was burgundy today- deep, rich, tight against her body. I couldn’t stop staring.

At one point, I dropped my pen and hit my head on the desk trying to get it. Jimin laughed the entire time.

After class, as I was gathering my things, she walked past my row- slow, unhurried. She didn’t stop, didn’t look at me, just spoke as she passed by:

“Rough night, Mr. Jeon?”

I froze.

My stomach dropped.

I looked up, and she was already across the room.

But her mouth- God, that mouth- had the faintest smile. That same one from the first day.

She knew.

She knew.

And the worst part?

I wanted her to.

═══════

It started with a text.

Not an email. Not a formal request.

A text.

Unknown Number: Are you free after 6pm tonight? I could use help prepping for tomorrow’s lab. -Y/N

My heart jumped. I stared at the screen like it was a glitch.

She had my number?

She was texting me?

I didn’t respond for a full minute. Then I typed:

Jungkook: Yes. I’m free.

Y/N: Room 4A. Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.

I read that last line five times.

By the time 6:00 p.m. rolled around, I was already outside the building. Nervous. Excited. My palms were sweating. I’d changed shirts three times and still didn’t know what I was doing.

The hall was quiet. No students. No voices. Just the distant hum of the custodial staff down the east wing.

Room 4A’s door was slightly cracked.

I pushed it open.

She was already there- back turned, hair up, sleeves rolled. She wore a lab coat this time, but it hung open over a tight gray top and dark jeans. A clipboard was in one hand, a box of glassware in the other.

The room was dimmer than usual. Only a few overhead lights flicked on. It felt… intimate. Like the space was smaller somehow. Thicker.

She didn’t look at me right away.

“You’re on time,” she said simply, setting the glassware down on the counter. “I like that.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night anyway,” I muttered.

She smiled at that. Not her professor-smile. Her real one. The one I barely got glimpses of.

“I need to reorganize the distillation setup for the freshmen lab tomorrow,” she said, pulling a drawer open. “You’re here to help. Not talk.”

That was fair.

I nodded and slipped my bag off.

She handed me a pair of gloves and motioned toward the back table. “Start unpacking those. Carefully.”

I obeyed.

We moved around each other for several minutes in silence. She handed me tools. I passed her clamps. We barely touched, but every time our fingers brushed, I felt it. The air between us buzzed.

I couldn’t stop glancing at her. At how effortless she looked, focused, eyes sharp, mouth pressed into a faint line as she worked. She didn’t speak, but her presence filled every inch of the lab. It was suffocating in the best way possible. 

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

Halfway through setting up a condenser tube, when I was just starting to relax- I dropped the clamp.

It hit the floor with a loud, sharp clatter.

“Shit,” I hissed, crouching to grab it.

She turned. Looked down at me.

When I stood, she was suddenly closer than before.

Right in front of me.

Our bodies weren’t touching, but they could’ve been.

“You always this clumsy when you’re nervous?” she asked quietly.

I stared at her. Swallowed.

“Only around you.”

That did something. Her eyes changed. She didn’t step back.

“I see.”

The silence stretched.

The lab felt too warm now.

She looked down at my hands still holding the clamp and reached out, curling her fingers over mine. Slow. Deliberate. Not necessary.

“You need steadier hands if you’re going to handle glass,” she said, her voice like velvet with a hidden blade.

I didn’t breathe.

Her fingers lingered.

Then let go.

“Try again,” she said, stepping back.

I did.

But my hands were still shaking.

═══════

It happened so fast I couldn’t stop it.

One moment, I was reaching for the beaker. The next, it slipped.

It hit the floor and shattered, glass slicing through silence like lightning.

“Shit,” I muttered, instinctively reaching down-

“Don’t.”

Her voice stopped me mid-motion.

I froze.

She walked over slowly. Calm. Deliberate. Her heels echoed off the tile with a rhythm that sounded too controlled for how chaotic I felt.

“No gloves,” she said, crouching instead. “You’ll cut yourself.”

I stepped back, watching as she gathered the larger pieces of glass with her gloved hands and the dustpan. Methodical. Controlled.

And then she looked up.

Directly at me.

From where she was crouched.

And suddenly- everything in me tightened.

The angle. Her eyes tilted up. The way her hair had fallen forward over one shoulder. Her lips parted just slightly, breath steady. Calm.

But her gaze?

Her gaze was not .

I tried not to think about it. Tried not to imagine what she looked like in that exact position with her hands somewhere else entirely.

But the thought had already sunk its claws in.

“You’re red,” she said quietly, eyes locked on mine.

I blinked.

“What?”

“Your ears,” she murmured. “They’re flushed.”

I swallowed. Hard.

“I-It’s warm in here.”

Her lips quirked, barely there.

Then she stood.

Not with her usual fluid grace.

She braced one hand on my thigh - my thigh - to push herself up.

Slowly.

Her palm lingered. Pressed. Fingers firm against my jeans.

My legs nearly gave out.

By the time she was standing, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She brushed her hands off and looked me over like I was something breakable.

“You always this easy to fluster, Mr. Jeon?”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

She leaned in slightly- just enough.

“I told you to be careful,” she said, her voice low. “But maybe you like messing up in front of me.”

I exhaled shakily. “I don’t.”

“You sure?” she asked, tilting her head.

Her fingers smoothed something imaginary off my shoulder.

Then she stepped back.

“Replace the beaker,” she said, like we were still just doing science.

But my heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she touched me.

I did what she asked. Quiet. Shaky.

And the whole time, I swore I could still feel her hand on my leg.

═══════

The silence was worse now.

Not awkward. Not cold.

Just… full.

I kept replaying the last five minutes like they were stuck on loop. Her crouched at my feet. The way she looked up at me like I was already undone. The weight of her hand on my thigh- intentional, firm, completely unignorable.

And then her calm retreat. Like she hadn’t just pulled the floor out from under me.

She was across the lab now, rearranging clamps and burners with absolute focus. Like I wasn’t still standing here burning alive.

I turned away. Faced the counter. Tried to look useful.

Then I heard her voice again.

“You follow instructions well,” she said casually.

It wasn’t a compliment.

It was a knife, slipped between my ribs with a smile.

“I try to,” I muttered.

“You don’t question them. You don’t push back. You just… obey.”

I swallowed. “Is that bad?”

“No,” she said, stepping closer again. “It’s just revealing.”

“Revealing how?”

She tilted her head. “Some people follow rules because they fear consequences.”

Her fingers reached for the flask beside me, brushing my arm.

“Others,” she continued, voice lower now, “follow because they enjoy being told what to do.”

I didn’t breathe.

“Which one are you, Jungkook?”

“I- I don’t know.”

She smiled. “I think you do.”

Her hand stayed near mine on the counter. Not touching. Just… there.

“You like when I give you tasks,” she said. “You like my voice when it’s low. Firm.”

I couldn’t deny it.

“You want structure,” she whispered. “Permission. Direction.”

My mouth was dry. My brain was static.

“Am I wrong?”

I shook my head.

“Say it,” she said softly.

“No,” I murmured. “You’re not wrong.”

She looked at me for a long time then. Not smiling. Just… watching.

“I wonder,” she said, almost to herself. “If you’d let me break you. If I told you to.”

She stepped back, finally.

The room felt colder without her body near mine.

“Turn off the burner. We’re done for tonight.”

Just like that. Command issued. Game reset.

I reached for the switch with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.

═══════

It wasn’t the same night.

It was two days later.

Another text. Short. Controlled.

Y/N: Back lab. 7PM. No distractions.

I stared at the message for a full minute, heart thudding like a war drum. Then I dropped everything, grabbed my bag, and left.

Now it was 7:03, and I was standing just inside Room 4A again, the door closing behind me, pulse in my throat.

The lights were low. Only the overheads near the back counter were on.

She was there.

Wearing black. Black blouse. Black pants. No lab coat this time. Just her. Dark and stunning and sharp as glass.

“You’re late,” she said without looking up.

“Three minutes.”

“Too many.”

I swallowed.

“You want to be here?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Professor.”

She finally looked up. Her eyes landed on mine like a slow caress.

“Good,” she said. “Then listen carefully.”

She crossed the room toward me.

Each step deliberate. Soundless.

She stopped close- so close my breath hitched.

Her hand came up, brushing the edge of my jaw, trailing lightly.

“I don’t want to lecture tonight,” she said softly. “I don’t want to correct your form or watch you drop glass.”

I said nothing.

Her thumb brushed my bottom lip.

“I want you quiet. Focused. Obedient.”

“I will be.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be good,” I whispered.

That made her smile.

She leaned in.

And kissed me.

This time, I kissed her back with everything in me.

No hesitation.

No fear.

Just months of tension crashing out of me in one dizzying moment of need.

Her hands threaded through my hair, fingers gripping tight. My mouth opened against hers, desperate, hungry, but still waiting- for her. Letting her lead.

She bit my lip, hard enough to make me gasp.

“Too eager,” she murmured.

“I can be patient.”

“We’ll see.”

She spun me gently, pressing me back against the wall beside the door. Her thigh slid between mine. My hips moved before I could stop them.

Her mouth moved to my neck, biting, tasting.

I couldn’t stop the groan that slipped out.

She laughed softly against my skin.

“You like this.”

“I love this.”

She pulled back, eyes dark.

“Lock the door.”

I turned, hands shaking but sure this time, flipped the lock with a solid click.

When I faced her again, she was unbuttoning the top of her blouse- slow, deliberate, still in control.

“You’ve been patient, Jungkook,” she said, stepping toward me again. “Now I want to see how well you listen.”

My mouth was dry. “Yes, Professor.”

She smiled. Dark. Beautiful. Unapologetic.

And then she kissed me again, deeper this time, walking me backward until I hit the lab table.

Her hands roamed my chest, my hips, controlling every inch of the space between us.

And I let her.

No part of me wanted control.

All I wanted was her.

═══════

This was happening.

And I was so far gone, I couldn’t even pretend I didn’t want it.

She kissed me hard this time- no testing, no waiting. Just heat. Her hands tugged at the hem of my shirt, sliding it up, palms skating over my bare stomach.

I shivered. She felt it.

“Cold?” she asked, lips against my neck.

“No,” I breathed. “Not even close.”

Her smile curved against my skin.

“Good.”

She pressed her body against mine, pinning me between the table and her frame. Every part of her was deliberate. Her hips against mine, her thigh back between my legs, her hand on my chest.

And then- lower.

My breath hitched.

She moved slowly, tasting every inch of my throat with her mouth, her tongue, her teeth.

Her hand slipped behind my neck, gripping tight as she kissed me again. I kissed back harder, bolder this time. I couldn’t stop my hands anymore- I reached for her waist, pulling her in, finally touching her like I’d imagined in a thousand sleepless nights.

She didn’t stop me.

She leaned in- more. Pressed her hips against mine, rolled them once, just to watch me lose it.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

“I’m not used to this.”

“No one’s ever touched you like this?”

“Not like you.”

She paused at that. Then she smiled, dark and slow.

“Good.”

Her blouse was undone now- button by button falling away, and her bra was dark lace, tight against her skin, and I swore I nearly lost my mind.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low.

I nodded.

“No,” I said honestly. “But I want it.”

“You want me?”

“God, yes.”

“Say it.”

“I want you.”

“Louder.”

“I want you, Professor.”

That was it.

She pushed me back onto the table, climbed over me with nothing but control in her eyes.

My hands gripped the edge. My whole body tense, vibrating, desperate.

She leaned down, nose brushing mine.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Now be quiet. Let me take care of you.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she slowly lowered herself, her lips brushing mine before trailing down my jawline. 

Her hands, soft yet firm, gripped my shoulders, holding me in place as if she knew I’d try to pull her closer. 

Her mouth moved lower, her tongue tracing the line of my neck, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, but she noticed, her lips curling into a smirk against my skin. 

“Shh,” she murmured, her breath hot against my chest. “Let me hear you.”

Her fingers trailed down my chest, light and teasing, before settling on the waistband of my jeans. 

I held my breath as she unbuttoned them, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving mine. She pushed them down, her hands brushing against my thighs, her touch sending a jolt of heat straight to my cock. 

I was already hard, my cock straining against my boxers, and her gaze dropped to it, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” she teased, her fingers hooking into the elastic of my boxers. 

I bit my lip, my body trembling with need. She pulled them down, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of me, her breath hitching. 

“So eager,” she whispered, her voice laced with approval.

Her hands wrapped around me, her touch firm but gentle, her fingers tracing the length of my shaft. I groaned, my head falling back against the table, my hands clenching the edges as she began to stroke me. 

Her touch was slow, deliberate, her thumb brushing over the head, spreading the pre-cum that had already gathered. 

“You like that, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a sultry purr.

“Yes,” I managed, my voice hoarse, my body already on edge.

She quickened her pace, her hand moving in a steady rhythm, her other hand cupping my balls, massaging them gently. 

“Tell me how much you want it,” she demanded, her voice commanding.

“I want it so bad Professor,” I gasped, my hips bucking slightly against her hand. “Please, don’t stop.”

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down my spine. 

“Such a good boy,” she praised, her hand tightening around me. “But we’re not done yet.”

Her mouth descended, her lips wrapping around the head of my cock, her tongue swirling in a way that made my vision blur. 

I moaned, my hands tangling in her hair but not daring to add any pressure, my body arching off the table. She hummed, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me, her hand continuing to stroke me in sync with her mouth.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice breaking. “That’s- that’s amazing.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Is it?” she asked, her voice teasing. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good,” I panted, my body trembling on the edge. “Your mouth- i-it’s perfect.”

She smiled, her lips stretching around me again, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. I was close, so close, my body tense, every nerve ending screaming for release. 

But just as I was about to cum, she slowed, her hand easing, her mouth pulling away.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over my sensitive skin. “Not until I say so.”

I whimpered, my body aching with need, my cock throbbing with frustration. She kissed the tip, her tongue flicking teasingly before she began again, her mouth and hand working in perfect harmony. 

I was a mess, my moans filling the room, my body completely at her mercy.

“Please,” I begged, my voice desperate. “Let me cum.  Please.”

She chuckled, the sound vibrating through me, her hand tightening around me. 

“Not yet, baby,” she murmured. “I want to see how long you can last.”

Her mouth took me deeper, her throat closing around me, her hand stroking in time with her movements. 

I was losing it, my body trembling, my breath coming in short gasps. “I- I can’t- ”

She pulled back again, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she praised, her hand slowing. “But not yet.”

I groaned, my body aching, my cock throbbing with unfulfilled desire. She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot against my skin. 

“Tell me how much you want to come,”she whispered, her voice a seductive command.

“I want it so bad,” I gasped, my body trembling. “I need to come. Please Professor, let me cum.”

She smiled, her lips curving against my skin, her hand beginning to move again, slow and torturous. 

“Soon, baby,” she promised, her voice a soft whisper. “But first, let’s see how close we can get.”

Her mouth took me again, her hand working in perfect sync, her tongue swirling, her throat tightening around me. 

I was a mess, my body on the brink, my moans filling the room. She edged me again, bringing me to the edge, only to pull back, her hand easing, her mouth leaving me throbbing and desperate.

“Professor,” I whimpered, my body trembling, my cock aching with need. “Please, I can’t take much more.”

She chuckled, her hand wrapping around me once more, her mouth descending, her tongue tracing the head. 

“One more time,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. “And then, maybe, I’ll let you cum.”

Her mouth took me deep, her hand stroking in time, her throat tightening around me. I was lost, my body surrendering to her, my moans turning into incoherent pleas. She worked me relentlessly, her mouth and hand in perfect harmony, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Professor, I’m- I’m gonna- ”

Her mouth tightened around me, her hand speeding up, her tongue swirling in a way that made my vision blur. 

I cried out, my body tensing, every muscle straining as I teetered on the edge, my cock throbbing with an almost painful need.

“Cum for me, baby,” she whispered, her voice a command. “Let it go.”

I shattered, my body convulsing, my cock pulsing as I came, my release hot and intense, my moans filling the room. 

Her mouth milked me, her hand squeezing gently, her tongue swirling as she drew every last drop from me. I was in ruins, my body limp, my breath coming in ragged gasps as she finally pulled away, her lips curved in a satisfied smile.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her hand stroking my chest, her eyes soft and admiring. 

She positioned herself above me, her scent enveloped me- a mix of her perfume, her skin, and something uniquely her that made my head spin. Her skirt hiked up, revealing she had nothing underneath, and I felt my breath hitch. 

She was a vision- her body perfectly framed by the soft light of the room, her full breasts rising and falling with her steady breaths.

She leaned back slightly, her hands resting on my chest, her eyes never leaving mine. 

“You’ve been a very good boy, Jungkook,” she said, her tone teasing yet filled with approval. “You deserve a reward.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Yes, Professor,” I murmured, my voice hoarse with desire. 

The way she called me good boy made me feel both proud and submissive, a combination that only heightened my arousal.

“Eat me out properly,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with desire.

She hovered there for a moment, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes searching mine for any hesitation. I held her gaze, my eagerness evident, and she let out a soft sigh of satisfaction before lowering herself onto me.

The first touch of her warmth against my lips was electric. 

I groaned softly, my hands instinctively moving to her thighs, holding her in place as I began to explore her with my mouth. 

She tasted sweet, her arousal coating my tongue as I lapped at her eagerly. Her hands tangled in my hair, guiding me, her moans filling the air as I worked my way deeper, my tongue tracing patterns against her sensitive flesh.

“Oh, Jungkook,” she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure. “You’re so good at this. So eager to please me.”

Her words fueled my desire, and I moaned against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. 

She shifted slightly, her hips rocking against my mouth as she sought more friction, more pressure. I hummed softly, my hands squeezing her thighs gently, and she gasped, her nails digging into my scalp.

“Do you like that, baby?” she asked, her voice laced with dominance. “Do you like making me feel good?”

I nodded, my mouth still buried between her legs, and she laughed softly, a sound that was equal parts amusement and pleasure. 

“Answer me, Jungkook,” she commanded, her tone firm.

I lifted my head slightly, my lips brushing against her as I spoke. “Yes, Professor,” I murmured. “I love it. I love making you feel good.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “Good boy,” she repeated, her voice a soft caress. “Now keep going. Make me cum.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. 

I dove back in, my tongue working tirelessly, my lips sucking gently as I focused on every inch of her. 

She was so responsive, her moans growing louder, her body trembling with each stroke of my tongue. Her hands tightened in my hair, her hips bucking against my mouth as she chased her release.

“Faster, Jungkook,” she panted, her voice urgent. 

I complied, my movements becoming more frantic, my mouth devouring her as she teetered on the edge. Her breath came in sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared her climax. 

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I kept going, my tongue flicking, my lips sucking, until she finally shattered around me, her body convulsing as she cried out my name. Her hands clenched in my hair, her hips pressing down hard as she rode out her orgasm, her release coating my tongue. 

I drank her in, savoring her taste, her scent, the feel of her trembling body against mine.

When she finally stilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she pushed herself up, her eyes wild with need. “I’m not done with you.”

Before I could protest, she slid down my body, her hands pushing my thighs apart. 

Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she straddled my hips, skirt bunching up to her waist. I could feel her warmth against my hardness, and I groaned, my hands reaching for her, only to be batted away.

“Hands to yourself, Jungkook,” she chided, her tone low and firm. “Or you won’t get to cum.”

I nodded, my chest heaving as she positioned herself above me, her hands gripping my wrists and pinning them to the table. 

Her eyes locked onto mine, full of challenge and desire, as she lowered herself onto me. I hissed at the sensation, my cock sliding into her tight heat, her walls clenching around me like a vice.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice rough. “You feel so good.”

She smirked, her hips beginning to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Do I now? Tell me, Jungkook. How bad do you want to cum?”

“So bad,” I gasped, my body tensing as she rode me, her movements controlled, teasing. “Please, let me-”

“Not yet,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “You’re not in control here. I am.”

Her words sent a jolt of arousal through me, and I whimpered, my hips bucking against her. 

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips hovering over mine. “You’re mine to play with, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice hoarse. “Yours.”

She pulled back, her hands gripping my shoulders as she increased her pace, her movements becoming more urgent. I could feel her tightening around me, her breath coming in short gasps, and I knew she was close.

“Cum for me,” I pleaded, my voice desperate. “Let me make you feel good.”

She shook her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Not yet. I’m going to edge you, Jungkook. Make you beg for it.”

Her words were like a spark, igniting a fire in my veins. 

She slowed her movements, her hips grinding against me in a torturous rhythm, pushing me to the brink but pulling back before I could climax. I groaned, my body trembling, my cock throbbing with need.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “Let me cum.”

“She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, “You’re so close, aren’t you? So desperate.”

“Yes,” I gasped, my hands gripping the table as she pushed me further, her body moving in a way that made me see stars. “Professor, I can’t-”

“Shh,” she soothed, her lips pressing against mine in a soft kiss. “I’ll help you.”

She quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with mine, and I felt her climax building, her walls fluttering around me. 

I groaned, my hips thrusting up to meet her, and she cried out, her head falling back as she came, her body shaking.

“Fuck,” I murmured, my voice thick with desire. “That feels so good.”

She rode out her orgasm, her movements slowing as she leaned against me, her breath ragged. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her body still trembling from the force of her release.

“Your turn,” she whispered, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. “But only if you’re a good boy.”

I nodded eagerly, my body aching for release. She shifted, her hands gripping my hips as she guided my movements, her pace relentless. I groaned, my body tensing as I felt myself building, my cock throbbing with the promise of release.

“Y/N,” I gasped, my voice desperate. “I’m close.”

“Not yet,” she teased, her voice playful. “One more time. I want to hear you beg.”

I whimpered, my body trembling as she slowed her movements, pushing me to the edge once more. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “Let me cum.”

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Yours,” I breathed, my voice hoarse. “I’m yours, Professor. Please, let me cum.”

Her smile softened, and she leaned down, her lips pressing against mine in a tender kiss. “Good boy,” she murmured. “Now cum for me.”

Her words were my undoing. 

I cried out, my body arching as I climaxed, my cock pulsing inside her as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. 

She held me close, her hands stroking my hair as I rode out my orgasm, my body trembling with the intensity of it.

And then it was quiet.

The room hummed with leftover heat. My heartbeat still thundered in my chest.

I lay there, dazed and open, blinking up at the ceiling like it might know what came next.

She didn’t rush.

She just leaned down, her skin warm against mine, and kissed my collarbone- soft and slow.

Then she murmured in my ear, voice calm, unreadable:

“Don’t think this changes the rules.”

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♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 05/28/2025

[7ndipity]

Bts As Subs

Sub!Ot7 x Dom!Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would be as Subs

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. Swearing. Mentions of dom/sub dynamics, bdsm, oral(f. and m. receiving), handjobs, edging, overstimulation, degradation, thigh riding, pegging, petplay, dacryphilia, marking, slapping, scratching, aftercare. Not proofread.

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Working on this actually helped a lot with my writers block and gave me waay too many ideas for fics👀 But I hope you like ‘em!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

Is either the sweetest, best behaved baby boy or an absolute brat, depending on his mood.

Loves to run his mouth just to get a rise out of you, whining and complaining about your teasing, but turns into absolutely mush once you get him under you.

Likes when you tie him to the headboard and jerk him off while sitting on his lap, close enough to still kiss him but not letting him touch yet, letting him cry into your neck when he finally cums all over your hand.

He’s so loud and whiny, it almost sounds like he’s singing until his voice cracks.

Someone mentioned this on his nsfw list, and I had to mention it here, he has a slight oral fixation and needs access to your chest while you ride him, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks(which he says he’s sorry for, but you know he isn’t really)

Lowkey masochistic and enjoys punishments, loving when you mark and scratch him up, or edge him till he cries.

But what he really loves when you just ride him soft and slow, moving just fast enough to make him needy, but not letting him cum, edging you both till he’s desperate and pleading to cum.

Yoongi:

Turns into the sweetest, vulnerable little kitten. You can always tell when he’s feeling subby from the way he buries his face in your chest or your neck, in both sexual and nonsexual situations. He's just so soft and just wants to be taken care of(pls protect him🥺)

So fucking whiny, but he tries to muffle them, biting his lip and scrunching his face up so hard, he almost looks in pain(until you bite/suck the sweet spot on his neck and he just starts wailing).

Prefers things to be half kinky, half vanilla(the vanilla stuff is always what makes him cum tho)

Like, he enjoys when you’re mean and tease him, but he really can’t handle much degradation, so it needs to be combined with a lot of sweet words and kisses.

Cries so prettily when you peg/breed him.

Is slightly embarrassed at how quickly he cums from thigh riding, hiding his face in your neck as his hips stutter against you.

Needs a fair bit of aftercare to ground him and help him come back down, mainly just sitting and holding each other.

Hobi:

Ooh the range of this boy😍, he's always so bright and eager, and tries so hard to be a good boy it’s almost painful, how could you not reward him?🥺

Loves it when you’re rough with him, wanting you to slap, scratch, mark, and degrade him, etc. He’ll take it all with a smile.

Tie him up and and tease him by making him watch while you touch yourself, his poor cock twitching and leaking with every noise you make(he may have broken a chair from pulling so hard on his restraints)

Absolutely melts tho when you’re soft with him, holding his hands while you ride him, caressing his arms and chest while leaving kisses all over his face.

Loves it when you edge and overstimulate him.

Needs lots of cuddles and praise afterwards, usually falls asleep on your chest.

He's just so cute and needy, literally everything you do turns him on. You’re cuddling? He’s hard. Dancing around the kitchen? Hard. Folding laundry? Hard.

Loves when you do extra little things to take care him or buy him lil gifts, it makes him feel special and appreciated!

Namjoon:

Honestly, it takes so much work for him to let go and fall into a sub headspace, but once he does, he turns into such a clingy baby.

Like normally he looks kinda intimidating, but deep down he’s just a giant teddy bear.

You’re gonna need the cuffs for this one, for multiple reasons.

He gets so impatient sometimes and almost involuntarily tries to take over, bucking up into you or gripping your hands/hips to guide your movements.

He literally has to have his hands on you at all times, whether that grasping at your waist hips, groping your chest, or just holding your hands(not letting him touch you in one the biggest punishments for him)

Will actually beg to taste you or for you to ride his face, like he needs to be between your thighs, however brief it may be, or he’ll sulk.

As vocal as he is when he doms, he goes almost non-verbal when he’s really in sub-space, only letting out little whimpers and whines of your name.

Actually prefers looking after you during aftercare to help him come down, needs a fair bit of reassurance afterwards. “Did I do good?”(of course you did, you djehfksjdkwjf)

Jimin:

The best behaved boy. Choke him, cuff him, blindfold him, he’ll take whatever you give him and say thank you🥺

Not exactly a brat, but he can’t resist making sassy little comments to rile you up sometimes when he wants to be punished.

On the flip side, he’s very much a people pleaser and has a massive praise kink, so he needs to hear that he’s doing good and making you happy.(could probably cum untouched from just you petting and praising him)

Lets out the prettiest whines and moans when you ride or peg him

Loves dressing up for you, whether in pretty little lingerie pieces, or a shirt/outfit in your favorite color for date night.

Lowkey sugarbaby vibes. He gets so blushy and smiley when you buy him lil gifts like jewelry or accessories and always makes sure to wear them for you cause he’s your pretty little baby.

Has a slight oral fixation and tends to fall asleep while sucking on your chest, fingers, or even your neck.

Taehyung:

Puppy. Just an absolute puppy, like actually call him that pls, he will dissolve.

He is slightly into petplay, but nothing too extreme, mainly just a pretty collar for you to pull him around by or to hold onto while he rides your strap-on.

Definitely has his bratty moments every now and then, but he really can’t handle a lot of punishment, so he’s always super apologetic.

Lowkey voyeuristic, loves the idea of someone seeing or overhearing the two of you together and just how much of a mess you make him.

Dresses up for you, whether that’s lingerie or just a sweater you really like on him(tho he will come to you wearing nothing but that, like a reverse of the ‘wearing their shirt’ thing)

He's surprisingly good at keeping edged and overstimulated, so he can handle and actually really likes long, drawn out handjobs.

Really likes non-sexual shows of dominance from you. Like when you treat him to meals/drinks, or hold onto him to guide him around, it makes him feel cared for.😊

Jungkook:

Right on the line between good boy and brat. He likes to run his mouth and challenge you, but once you start doling out punishments, he turns into the softest baby. “I’m sorry Jagi, I’ll be good, I promise. Please still let me cum!”🥺

Super unsubtle and touchy when he’s in a subby mood(tho, he’s not exactly subtle the rest of the time either, so), kneading your hips as he grinds against you, pleading softly for you to please come help take care of his ‘problem’.

So fucking squirmy, he can’t keep still even if he tried, hips bucking and twitching involuntarily with every little touch.

He’s just soo sensitive and cums super fast whenever he subs.

He’s very middle ground on kinks and everything. He likes a lot of the harder stuff like bondage and degradation, but he needs some softer treatment mixed in and a lot of aftercare to balance out or else he’ll feel bad.

He actually really loves it tho when you make him cry from teasing and overstimulation.

Lowkey loves when you look after him in non sexual ways, making sure he’s alright and letting your protective side show through.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[jmvore]

warning(s) » giving Jimin a blowjob in your office, being caught by your assistant. a/n » Thank you @/saradika for the divider(s)! Yes the middle photo is a AI photo.

Okay, imagine Jimin sitting outside your office as your assistant left to get your coffee. It is lunchtime, his favorite time because he gets to spend it with you. Although, right now, he has a dilemma. He is trying to keep his hard-on from being seen as your co-workers walk by.

He can see inside your office because you keep the blinds open whenever you’re with a client so others can see inside (in case something happens).

He’s trying his best to figure out what it could have been. Maybe it was the lace bralette he knew you were wearing underneath your blouse with the pretty lace thong to match. Perhaps it was seeing you in your element and helping others in need. Or, it could have been the suit you decided to wear (it is one of his favorites!) Damn, or maybe it was simply because it’s you and you’re so hot and sexy, and fuck Jimin has no clue how he was able to get you.

However, he thanks the moon goddess (let’s be honest, god is a woman).

He's trying his best to get it to go down but he feels like he’s about to going to go feral if he doesn’t touch you soon. Jimin sighs, glancing at the clock above the coffee machine in the breakroom before pulling out his phone.

Maybe he should order something.

"I'll call you if I have any updates." Your door swings open and your client swiftly walks out as you wave goodbye. Jimin’s eyes sparkle as soon as they land on you, smile widen when you step next to him to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. The office is so use to your PDA that no one even bats an eyes when it happens.

“hey petal. lunch time already?”

He nods, taking your hand to let tug him inside of your office. It only takes you seconds to pull your blinds close as your lips immediately latch to his. He moans into it and walks you back toward your desk. He lifts you to get you to sit on it but you growl when you almost knock the folders and computer on the floor.

“Careful, Petal.”

“Sorry, darling.” He gasps the moment you start kissing down his neck to make your way to his chest. “f-fuck. right now?”

“I missed you.”

"I missed you to but you have a client after our lunch break-"

"I do." You chuckle, seeing how flustered he's becoming. "Do you not want it?"

"I do! Fuck, I do I just don't want to get you in trouble."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Sugar." You wink as you notice his breath hitching the second you grab his cock through his pants. "You just worry about cumming for me."

"Shit..." He nods, unbuttoning your blouse to see your breast sitting so pretty in your bra. God, he wants to mark you so everyone will know what the two of you were doing but he also doesn’t want people to see how gorgeous you look with his marks.

“Petal?”

“Hm?” He tugs you into his chest to kiss you again as you giggle into his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m starving.” Your voice so soft but sultry and velvety, he finds himself melting. You continue to rub him through his pants as you nibble on his earring, his body involuntarily shuttering from the feeling.

"You're going to be the death of me.” He whines when you finally stick your hand in his slacks to continue to lazily stroke him. He closes his eyes before opening them to see you looking at him with so much love and admiration. His heart is going to burst!

“What did you want to eat?” You ask, getting down on your knees to unbutton his pants. They’re on the floor in a instant as you mouth at his cock through his underwear as he hisses.

“I-I don’t know.“

“You don’t know?” You tease, practically ripping his boxers down his legs to see his cock sitting so pretty against his abdomen. “Or you can’t think right now?”

Jimin whines when you roll your tongue from the tip of his cock to his balls and back. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he widens his legs for you to fit in. His mind can’t think of food when your mouth feels so good teasing him.

“You know what I want to eat?”

He shakes his head because no, he doesn’t. He has a clue but you’re practically ruining him right now so he'll give you anything you want.

“No?”

“No…” He shakes his head again, earning a little chuckle from you as you kiss your way up his body. He’s hyper aware that you’re still in your office, neither of you locked the door because, so what? Is it unprofessional? Sure but maybe they should learn to knock before entering. "W-What did you want to eat?"

"You." You grin the moment suck the tip again and Jimin knows he's not going to last much longer. The sad part, you're literally teasing him. "I going to make you cum down my throat, baby. You want that? You're going to be good for me and do that?"

"Fuck Yes," He groans, places his hand on the side of your face, careful not to mess up your makeup more than you have as he leans in for another kiss.

God, he loves kissing you.

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I know you do Petal. We'll have to wait for that.” You start to stroke his cock as his head falls back against the leather seat. You’re going to be the death of him. “We don't have much time."

“Shit...”

You smirk, immediately taking his cock in your mouth. It’s so wet and warm, he feels himself melting into the chair as your mouth works it's magic. He knows he can relax to let you take care of him. Although, he feels the urge to buck his hips but he stops himself when he takes your hand in his.

“So fucking good...” He whimpers, feeling the way your tongue swirls around the tip. How you suck the pre-cum out of it and how deep you take him. He can feel himself hitting the back of your throat and it felt like heaven. That’s the only thing he can think of when he thinks about sex with you. “You’re going to make me cum…”

“Yeah?” You grin, releasing him from your mouth but you continue to jack him off. You press your forehead against his as you keep eye contact, seeing the moment his eyes glaze over. “You’re gonna cum, petal? Gonna cum all over my tits and mark them as yours?”

“I am… god, I’m so close… please, please!”

“Or do you wanna cum down my throat? Want me to swallow everything you give me?”

Jimin chest heaves the closer he gets to his orgasm. Both options sound fucking phenomenal and he can’t think of which one he wants to do more.

Hell, he can’t think of anything at all, to be honest.

“I’m cumming…” His head falls back against the chair as one hand grips the arm of the chair, the other grips your wrist to get you to slow down. Especially once you put your mouth on the tip to suck off everything he’s given you. “S-sensitive.”

You smile and lean forward to drown him in your love. He kisses you back, holding you as close as he can. This time he can taste himself as you swap cum and saliva, hearing him moan your name.

Once you pull away, he faintly opens his eyes just as he sees you swallow the rest.

“Fuck…” Jimin breathing grows heavy but he finally comes down from his high once lean back.

"Good?"

"Amazing."

You stand to your feet to go grab his pants but what you don’t expect to see is your assistant, standing with her eyes wide at the door.

“Binna?" You clear your throat as she glances up at you, her eyes widening in surprise. She looks between you and the back of Jimin's head, noticing he hasn't turned around either. "Can I help you?”

“I got your c-coffee- shit…” She scurries to close the door and you know you’re going to have to talk to her.

“I think we scarred the poor girl,” Jimin chuckles but you frown, knowing there’s more to it than that.

You also wonder how much the others heard since she had the door open.

© 2020 - 2023 » JMVORE || » All Rights Reserved.   DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!

[joonlaksme]

Sign Here: Chapter Four

Sign Here Masterlist

Summary: All of Min Yoongi’s partners never knew what he truly wanted. Too scared to tell them to their face, he decides to just invest into a professional. He didn’t know you were exactly what he was looking for.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

-> Genre: Yoongi x Dominatrix!reader, Smut

-> Warnings for this chapter: Breath play, handjob, Yoongi gets a little manhandle-y, semi-public stuff (briefly), masochist Yoongi, edging (m), aftercare

-> Word Count: 4,400+

A/N: After months of being in a stump, I’m FINALLY back!! Thanks for waiting and enjoy :D

Chapter 4: Maroon

Taking a break has never felt so stressful before. You sit down, an extended sigh resting hot on your lips and you feel the faux leather clinging to your thighs. With it getting hotter and hotter outside, humidity enters your older apartment through cracks in the balcony doors and no matter how often you shower, you can’t seem to get the sticky feeling off of you. 

“Maybe we should eat something cold.” Mi-na interrupts your thoughts.

You lean forward and place your elbows on your kitchen island, marble feeling nice and cool on your skin. Kyung Mi-na has been your best friend ever since your shared second year of college where she became your new roommate. A cute 5’2 with pretty black hair and an even amber complexion. No one would think she had the same job as you considering her sweet appearance but she was the one who had gotten you into BDSM. 

Your fingers feel around the plastic-y texture of the stool, a deep maroon color. It jogs your memory to check your bathtub later. 

“What are you in the mood for, hm? Eggs? A muffin?” She opens your off-white fridge and rummages through it. There really isn’t much in there but you can see she’s smiling ear to ear, tapping her fingers on the fridge door and standing on the tips of her toes. You often wonder why she’s always in a good mood but you suppose you don’t always need a reason to be happy. Maybe she’s feeling content because nothing wrong has happened. Right now, at 9 in the morning, you want to complain and then stew in your pot of thoughts. You have a meeting planned with Yoongi and you have no idea what should be on the agenda. Of course you have a great variety of ideas but not specifically for someone who’s more of a beginner like Yoongi. You even think you went a little hardcore on him in your most recent session.

“Can I just get some tea for now?” You finally reply.

Mi-na tilts her head but turns around to turn on the electric kettle. “What’s on your mind?”

Of course you can never keep anything away from her. She majored in psychology and she was always the top of her class. 

She’s subtly shaking her hips to the blasting music of an apartment down the hall. You gave up on trying to complain about them for a while now.

You’re distracted from the task at hand. 

“Well, remember I was talking about my new client?” 

She nods, “The one you said you were worried about because he was a total beginner? I told you that you should have just offered me. I know you’re uncomfortable with beginners.”

“Based on what he filled out on the form, I was fully expecting him to have experience. You should’ve seen him, Mi-na. He doesn’t look submissive in the slightest. I thought he was joking at first.”

Mi-na scoffed, “There goes you and your drawing to conclusions. So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know where to go from here to be fully honest.” And then you tell her what you HAVE done, assuming she can work from there.

She takes out a cup from your cabinet and pours out hot water, plopping a teabag in it and looks you in your eyes. “Hm…why don’t you touch him properly? Beginners feel better when something more familiar is implemented in play. I’m sure you can work your way from there, you know. I think that once you are both comfortable, you can start implementing the things you like to do like shibari, general bondage, sensory deprivation, edging, all of that.” 

You nod. Of course. You have to be the more confident one in this relationship. After all, he is the one paying you for it. 

“So what made him stand out?”

“What do you mean?” You reply, eyebrows knitting.

She lets out a short laugh, “C’mon. You never talk to me about your clients. I was a bit surprised by how much you talked about and described this new guy.”

“Like I said, you have to see him to understand where I’m from. He’s this guy with a composed look, stylish, tattoos all down his arms–”

“So? You’ve had hardcore bikers and models under you. What makes him different?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. You knew exactly what made him different. You just don’t want to admit it to Mi-na just yet. Instead, you’re fiddling with the tail end of your tea bag, watching the water turn into a deeper red color.

-

When Mi-na leaves, you make your way to your bathtub. Walking into there is a bit of a pain nowadays since water covers the tiled floor and you’ve constantly found yourself too sluggish to lay a bunch of towels down. There, plunge your hands into the dark red water of the tub. You pull out the bunch of ropes you had just bought, feeling the texture on your fingers and then you drain the water, rinsing out the excess dye. You pull it out of the tub finally, the water making it a bit heavier and then you loosely coiled it on a specially made drying rack. 

-

Then, here you were, standing in your closet and deciding what heels would be best for tonight. Something more comfortable or something more sexy? Why is this something you’ve been deciding on for as long as you have? You barely have an hour left and you’re thinking so critically about which shoe to wear on your next meeting. Something tells you that you need to keep your mind on what’s important: Keeping Min Yoongi satisfied. 

So you pick a simple pair of black heels with comfortable soles and make your way out your front door. 

When you arrive at the restaurant, you arrive 10 minutes earlier than you should be. You tell the host about your specific and private reservation. This is a place more familiar with your line of work and more specifically, in a collaboration with the company you work under. So, it’s no surprise when you’re led to a luxurious booth covered with maroon velvet seats and with foldable panels, separating you from the rest of the public. Here, there’s menus with small and fancy writing and no price next to the variety. There’s cherry blossoms decorating the walls and a dim but warm light hanging from the top. 

You’re sitting close to the kitchen so you can smell all different varieties of aromas from food that vary from pasta to creamy sauces. You haven’t been here in a long time so you were looking forward to this. 

Speaking of looking forward to something, that’s when Yoongi takes the corner and sees you sitting there with crossed legs and the small wave of your manicured nails. He takes a seat at the booth across from you, looking how he always does: calm and collected. 

“I’m glad you found the place alright. I know the further you get to the back, the harder it is to navigate. The host and hostess often don’t come back here...” You start, trailing off. You’re looking at him with a piercing stare because he looks good enough to eat. His sleeves are rolled up and one button is down in a normal, white button-up shirt. His belt really shows his hips and his suit pants make his legs look nice and slender. Did he dress up just for you? You clear your throat. “How have you been?”

When you look closer, you can see the shade of Yoongi’s ears turn a nice pink and it sparks up your confidence. “I’ve been fine. Just a long day…So…” and he mutters something you can’t hear. It’s obviously aimed towards you by the way he meets your eyes but you can’t quite hear him. 

“Speak up?” 

“I asked…what’s on the agenda for today?”

“After dinner, we’re heading to your place but after that, it’s a surprise. You like surprises don’t you?”

He lets out a scoff, “I do but it takes a lot to surprise me.” 

“Humor me.” You pick up the menu. “I’m paying so choose whatever you’d like.”

His lips twitch a bit, “Aren’t I paying you? Why are you paying?”

You hush him.

You choose one of your favorite things from the menu and as he’s ordering, you pretend to accidentally slide your foot up his leg. He does spring up a bit but he keeps his expression flat. You mutter an apology but don’t bother to try to hide the small smile that creeps up your lips. The waiter seems submerged in every word Yoongi communicates to him. You look back at your menu but in the corner of your eye, you can see his eyes flicker down to your foot that is a bit too close to his side of the table. He doesn’t acknowledge it outloud but his gaze lingers and then he shifts his weight from one leg to the other before finishing his order. Once the waiter leaves, Yoongi places his elbows on the table with raised brows.

“You gonna try anything else here?” He asks. His lips quirk up just for a moment.

“You should take your elbows off the table. That isn’t very proper.”

Instead of answering his actual question, you offer him a small smirk. Your heel is nudging his leg playfully. There’s an anticipation between you two. The sexual tension is becoming thick and as you reach over and grab his hand in yours, you can feel the goosebumps raise on him. He’s nervous when his mind is submerged in possibilities of what your surprise may be and you can read him like a book, even when he’s just giving you a blank expression. 

Your fingers interlock on the table and you think about your first impression of him. He’s looking at you and slowly, you can tell he’s cracking. He takes a deep breath as tension grows and you slide your foot up until it’s resting on his knee. Then it goes back down to the carpeted floor. You want to tease him more. As your foot retreats, his eyes glaze over. Your foot returns to the floor and his gaze snaps back to yours, while you start up a new conversation and you can see the slightest hint of disappointment in his expression. He quickly masks it, however, and clears his throat.

“I think you’re easily surprised. You just choose not to show it to many but…I believe I can wrap you around my fingers.” You say, taking a sip of water.

The waiter returns with a basket of bread and a small dish full of seasoned olive oil for dipping. He leaves quickly after. Yoongi keeps his eyes on you. When he goes for a piece of bread, that’s when you decide to move your leg up until it’s at his inner thigh. His hand stops in mid-air as your foot drags up until it’s touching his crotch. 

“What am I feeling here, hm?”

He swallows hard, his eyes widening slightly as he feels your foot against him. He tries to steady his shaking fingers. "I…uhm…I don't know what you mean."

You press harder and he can’t help the breathy sigh he releases from the sudden pressure. He pushes himself closer. 

“I think you do. I think you have been anticipating something.” Your smile is kind but your tone is sultry, low. He’s having this conflict in his mind between keeping up his facade to keep cool or to give in and beg you to stop your torture. He thinks he can last longer but he’s burning up so he pops open a button. 

Watching him attempt to compose himself is more fun than you expected it to be. His heart even jumps out of his chest when the waiter comes back with your food. That’s when your foot starts moving and he’s feeling so much that he’s getting lightheaded. 

“Maybe we should get this to go? You look a bit tired, Yoongi.”

He presses his lips together. "I'm fine," he manages to say, his voice strained. You can see the vein on his neck popping with the effort of keeping himself under control. It doesn’t last long because as soon as the waiter walks away and there’s steaming plates of food in your faces, he’s holding your hand tighter. “Please?”

You raise your eyebrows and have to clench your legs closed, “I don’t know what you mean?” You echo his words back at him.

“You’re mean.” You can see the way the side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Okay, I think we should go.”

So you do. Your untouched food goes in boxes and you send your regards to the owner of the restaurant. When you make it back to Yoongi’s place, you can tell he’s nervous by the way his hands tremble when he brings out his keys to open the door. You lay your hand on his and help steady him. It’s when you start laying light kisses on his neck that he goes weak under your touch. You feel as if you’re sucking his energy from the way he lets out this deep exhale.

The door turns open and he stumbles in with you. His jacket is off and on the floor before you even make it to the living room. His breathes out in short and shallow gasps. His hands make their way in your hair when you find a particular part that gets him rowdy and suck on it. His back meets the couch and his knees buckle. 

He gets confused you don’t come down with him. You don’t bother to fix your hair but you take off your own jacket slowly and get his remote from the coffee table. 

“What should we watch…?” You’re acting as if nothing happened just a couple of seconds ago and as if he’s not half hard in his pants. 

He whimpers your name to get your attention. You turn to look at him and sit down right beside him. Just by the way you look at him, he know you’re not going to give in until he does first and if there’s anything Yoongi is confident about, it’s his stubbornness. So he gives you a movie recommendation and then you lean back and watch it together. 

However, as much as Yoongi wants to calm down, he can’t stop looking at you. You’re dressed like the goal was to tempt him and he’s wondering if this torture was his surprise. The movie begins, but Yoongi's eyes are not on the screen. He’s taking in every detail of your appearance. Your outfit, while it looks comfortable, leaves little to the imagination and Yoongi can't help but feel himself getting more and more worked up as the minutes pass by. He can’t stop shuffling by the time half an hour goes by.

His hand lands on your thigh to your surprise. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

His lips are shut but his eyes are begging. 

“That’s not exactly what I want and you know that…” You move his hand away with little regard for where it goes. 

You look away but it’s quick when he takes hold of your waist. You’re on his lap almost immediately and you’re caught off guard for a just a moment. 

“I thought we were going to watch a movie but you just can’t hold yourself back, hm? If you’re having so much trouble focusing, maybe we can do something else?” You guess he can win this time.

He stopped himself from eagerly nodding, “That would be nice…” He mumbles back.

You lean closer to him and grab his wrists, holding them together up above his head.  While that hand is holding his arms away from touching you again, the other unzips his pants. 

“Is this your surprise?” He lays his head back with a huff. 

You pull out his cock, twitching in your palm. As you begin to stroke him, you start talking. “Let’s set some rules. I want you to last until I say you can. No touching and think about your behavior. I think that if you were more avid, I would be nicer.”

He finally lets out a full blown groan, the same sound reverberating down your body and all along your skin. For as long as he’s had this boner, he’s so sensitive.

“I don’t know how long I can l-last for.” He thrusts into your hand. 

“C’mon playboy…” You let go of his arms and instead grip his jaw. The way you’re treating him has him submerged into what feels like paradise. He feels as if he’s been placed in a place where he does not have to think about anything but you and the way you skillfully make him feel. “You don’t last and there’s going to be an issue, understood?” Your voice is raised just a bit. He’s hesitant to admit that your voice turns him on in itself.

“Yes…” He replies with, hands lowering to take handfuls of his couch as you continue to stroke him at the same torturous pace. 

“Yes, who?” Your grip tightens.

He moans out a blended mess of, “Yes mistress.”

You smirk at his response, “Better.” You’re pleased with his obedience so as a little reward, you lean close to his ear and the heat of your breath causes shivers to run down his body. If there’s anything that Yoongi has learned in your sessions, it’s that he’s definitely more submissive than he ever was dominant. He’s never felt so embarrassed about how he might cum soon if he doesn’t think of something else before and sure, pussy feels good but when he’s been edged for what feels like centuries, he gets desperate. He likes seeing how satistsfied you are, how much you feel from making him feel good. 

You turn him to lay down on the couch just like how it was before when you discovered his seriously sensitive nipples. Only, this time, youre sitting on his face in a pencil skirt. Coming to a conclusion that he feels the most satistisfied when you are, it’s now a new torture to feel you stroking his cock while you’re needy and shuffling on his face. You gather saliva up in the cheeks of your mouth and spit a glop on your hand, using that to  guide your hand in a more slick handjob.

His words and sounds are muffled under your skirt. His mind drifts off to when you made him cum before without even touching his dick.  

“Hm?” You ask him, leaning off of his face for a moment.

“Can I…”

 "Can you what?"

Yoongi swallows hard, his face flushed beneath your skirt. "Can I taste you?" He asks softly, pleading you for permission.

You think for a moment, considering his request. You know how wet you are right now but…“No. You can’t.”

“Please?” He’s getting whiny, out of his typical deadpan character. 

Watching him beg only makes you want to get more mean, more cruel. You finally quicken your pace and instead of answering him with another denial, you sit back down on his face, only with more pressure and he’s damn near suffocating under it. All he can breathe in is the smell of your arousal and feel the limit of how much air his lungs can take. There’s some breathability when you open your legs but sometimes you shut them and practically suffocate him with your thighs. He’s way too into it and he twitches in your hand like crazy. It’s invigorating and pretty soon, he’s getting louder under your skirt. Every once in a while, you lift off of him to give him one big breath before he’s back. 

So it’s a wonder with all the air you give him, why he grabs onto your hips when you explicitly told him not to.

You let go of his dick, wetly hitting his stomach and you lift yourself up again. There’s a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone and even in your expression, “Didn’t I tell you not to touch me?” Your voice is cold and now, Yoongi can feel it. He can feel a slither of fear run down him and it does nothing but fuel his fantasies and increase his desire for you. He’s gotten himself enamered with you by now. If you react this way, he’s thinking that maybe he should do it more often; acting out and seeing how you punish him. 

“‘M sorry…” He apologizes but any one would be able to tell that it was lackluster, pathetic. 

So he admits he’s surprised when you land a slap on his dick. He thrusts up but is confused why. It burns at first but the shock of pleasure is addicting. His fingers are tingling and his brain is clouded. “Fuck–I’m sorry…” He says it again but it’s even weaker than the first one. It’s not on purpose though, he just can’t think straight anymore. 

You slap it again and the moan he lets out is damn near angelic. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely are now and it threatens to soak through your skirt if it’s already through your underwear. “Oh…seems like you’re more of a masochist than I thought you were. You’re getting off to this, aren’t you?”

He shivers under your touch once you take his dick in your hand again. A mix of pleasure and pain courses through his body and before he can open his mouth and admit it, a moan comes out instead, gushing pre-cum as you slap it once more. 

“I’m–I’m gonna cum.” And he says your name with such a shaky breath that you actually think he’s scared to cum.

“No, you aren’t.” You state matter-of-factly. “You’re gonna hold it for me and make up for your mistakes, aren’t you Min Yoongi?”

He whimpers but nods. There’s pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, the need to release almost unbearable but he doesn’t want to disobey you even more. 

You lean back down so he can tell there’s new arousal, thick and heavier than before. “Good boy,” You whisper.

You can feel his chest vibrate at his groan. After multiple sessions, of course you could tell he liked praise and you found it amusing how much it affected him.  

His words are muffled but he gets more and more despreate as you stroke him harder, tighter, faster. His tip is this bright and pretty shade of pink from your treatment. The last thing on your mind at this point is treating him kindly. It’s when you use your other hand to rub his tip that he really can’t stop moving. You watch and feel him squirm beneath you as you continue. Then you twist your torso and grab a handful of his hair, pulling him back slightly. The breath that touches your skin is quick and hot, chest heaving with every pant.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

His ears perk up and he lets out this long and low moan as you pull his hair and give him your final command. It’s like a switch flips in him as he bucks his hips and gets closer to your masterful touch. There’s sweat down his stomach as he trembles and rolls his eyes back. 

You keep stroking him and nudge yourself off of his face. “Let go for me. Focus.”

You know he’s stuck at this moment and he just needs a little nudge. That’s what your words do to him and he finally bursts, cumming all over your hand and on his stomach. He’s heaving so hard that you go into aftercare mode immediately. When he’s done. You come off of him and hold his face in yours. Even when his forehead is sweaty, you press it to yours. 

“Breathe…You did so good for me, Yoongi. So good.” 

He’s almost completely limp in your hold but you can see his smile. He’s already starting to feel achey everywhere even when you just finished and that lets him know that he’s going to feel this even more in the morning. He only starts talking when his breath is nearly calm and he’s realizing how dirty he is. Sweat all over his body and he hadn’t taken off most of his clothes. There’s cum on his stomach and dried up tears on his cheeks. You’re flattered.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled. He whinces as he hears how raspy his voice is. 

You kiss his cheek, noticing a nice purple mark on his neck. “Did I go too hard on you?” You ask him, taking his safety into mind.

He laughs, “Honestly, if you keep doing things like that to me, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

You both laugh. “Where’s your towels?”

He points to a closed door, “In the bathroom, in the closet next to the sink.”

So you make your way there. You find the closet and take out a rag but before you can close the closet, your eyes catch on a black box. Curiosity takes the best of you and you open it just for a peak inside. 

You find a variety of women’s clothes. Cute turtle necks, skirts, knee-high socks, the works. Your jaw drops. This could mean so many things depending on which way you plan to look at this from. 

When you come back to him, he’s completely calm but just uncomfortable. You bring a bowl of warm water and a rag and wipe him down, assuming he doesn’t want to make his way to the bathroom. He looks at you through it all and feels himself overwhelmed with a certain feeling. Maybe he’s just horny again but the silence is sweet and he doesn’t want to do anything but look at your face. His blinks are slow and eventually, he starts to feel really sleepy. 

“I’m just gonna get you some new underwear and then we can make our way to your  bed, okay?” You’re kinder with him now that he’s completely weak. 

He feels a bit fresher and knows he’ll have to shower later tomorrow but he feels nice when you lay with him on his bed. You play with his hair with let him lay between your breasts, gentle in reflection to how you treated it before. When he falls asleep, you slowly move his arm from on your hip and make your way out of his home. 

You’re chewing on your lips as your mind is busy with other thoughts. What was up with that black box? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist - @hobiswhore @madstxo @itsshaydeekaydee @namjooncrabs @ollyoxenfrees @jajabro @lchimmyl @hiefisch @sugar-petals

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[winedarkthoughts]

i loved this so much!! the descriptions and little one liners are so delicious, and this was such a great depiction of a good and healthy (and very hot) scene! jk's characterization is so simultaneously cute yet sexy at the same time, it makes for a great sub smut :D love the reader's dialogue as well. thank you @borathae for sharing your writing 💖

↳ Full Art

"You love torturing Jungkook. He is so fucking adorable when he whines and squirms for you. Alternatively: You tie up Jungkook and torture him with a pretty prostate vibrator."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, ownership kink, bondage, hickeys, biting, dirty talk, use of a prostate vibrator, exhibitionism, voyeurism, stripping, orgasm control, she ties him up and then goes to the room next door to let him suffer with a vibrator in his ass, consensually of course, aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: currently eating him tf up ngngng he is so!! have fun besties 🧡

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

“Good.”

You tie a pretty bow and run your hands up his arms. He has them behind his back, still covered by the sleeves of his black button up. The button up is open in the front because your hands needed to feel his skin. It adds to the vibes. Half-dressed and already ravished. He looks so handsome this way.

“Mhm, so fucking yummy”, you purr, dragging your parted lips up his neck, “you look so yummy tied up.”

Jungkook rolls his head to the side, closing his eyes sensually at the feeling. Your kiss is electric on his skin, leaving him wanting more. Tingles keep running down his spine, his heart is racing in his chest.

You reach the lobe of his ear, tracing it with the tip of your tongue. He giggles, writhing away because it tickles. You chuckle, pulling him close with your hand around his throat. You don’t apply pressure. He should know that he is yours even without any kind of force.

“Don’t flee”, you purr and snatch for his ear to nibble on it softly.

“Tickles”, he sighs and shivers. He whines, lifting his shoulder, “tickles, I can’t help it.”

“Mhm, poor boy”, you tease and peck the shell of his pierced ear. You give him a soft squeeze before sitting back. The distance hurts both of you. You want to feel his warmth, just as he wants to feel yours. But it is needed. Only distance makes it possible that you can get what you need. You hold it between your fingers as you crawl to the front. He is sitting on the bed, having his legs bent by the knees and pulled close to him. His eyes run over your body instantly. You are still in your dress. Burgundy red. It matches with your lipstick and the jewels on your ears. The dress is cut to really show off your chest in the most sensual and elegant of ways. His eyes linger on it and how your breasts move as you get closer to him.

“Like the view?” you tease him.

“Sorry”, he looks into your eyes, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

You chuckle, “you’re a horndog.”

“Hey.”

“I like it”, you swipe your thumb over his pouty lips, “don’t get the wrong idea.”

He follows the touch with a sigh of your name and his lids fluttering. He looks so perfect this way. It’s a shame that you have to cover those pretty lips of his’.

You lift the pink scarf into his vision. His eyes trace it hungrily. He licks his lips. The scarf sat around your shoulders once, keeping you warm in the chilly night. It made you look prettier than you already were. Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from pulling it down one your shoulders to leave kisses on your soft skin. It was in a dark corner of the theatre during intermission. He just couldn’t take the longing anymore and so he pulled you into the closest corner he could find to ravish you with gentle kisses and his big hand naturally sliding to the small of your back.

“Behave”, you told him as your eyes scanned the crowds of people scurrying around the luxurious building. Nobody seemed to notice or if they did, they acted like you were invisible.

“You shouldn’t have dressed this way then”, he whispered, “you make it hard to behave.”

You turned to him then, scanning your eyes over his body. He wore a black suit over a black button up. It was tailored to fit his figure perfectly and his long hair was styled out of his face. He looked to die for.

“I’m behaving too, aren’t I?”

His eyes lowered in begging then. He was such a natural at begging. You rarely find it in yourself to deny him. 

“We could get outta here. I bet the second act’s gonna be just as boring”, he argued.

“You’ll manage”, you said and broke away from him to return to your seats. Tonight you wanted to deny him. It was all part of the plan.

Now you are here. Back in your hotel room with the blinds closed and the lights dimmed. You couldn’t even take one step and Jungkook was already kissing you, moaning needily as his hungry hands felt up your every inch.

Of course you had to show him what his ravenous hunger would result in. Get his needy hands under control and his hungry lips back to behaving. So you restrained his arms with his tie with the promise of stealing his words with your scarf.

“Still down to get your words stolen?” you ask him and let the scarf dance over his face.

“Yeah”, he sighs, tilting his head back and parting his lips as the soft fabric paints paths on his face. He is shivering like crazy, feeling charged in need.

“That’s the answer I like”, you say, “face me.”

He obeys with obedient eyes.

“Stay.”

“Okay”, he whispers.

You close the distance and place the scarf over his mouth.

“Wait.” 

You pull it away again. 

His face morphs into that of begging. 

“One more kiss?” he asks, lifting his brows in a plea, “please?”

You smile fondly and take his chin between two of your fingers to pull him into a kiss. Jungkook moans, reaching for you only to get reminded that he was currently tied up. He wiggles then, sucking on your lower lip.

Enough. You break the kiss even if he whines for more.

“Please?” his breathy voice swirls over your lips, his eyes are lowered and gazing at your mouth.

“No. That should be enough”, you say and move away to place the scarf over his mouth.

Jungkook scowls, you snicker. He can frown all he wants, you won’t give in again.

You give the scarf a soft tug. He lets out a soft sound of approval, looking up at you with lust filled eyes. You have to get even closer to tie the knot behind his head. Jungkook’s devoted gaze doesn’t break. It only deepens. He is so mesmerised by you. His goddess. Beautiful and glowing like the sun. His heart is racing like crazy at the thought of placing his control into your soft palms. Truly, you’ve got him in a chokehold.

“Too tight?” you ask him as you fix the knot.

He shakes his head.

“Good.”

You finish it with a double knot, then dance your hands along his cheeks until you can cradle them and tilt his head up. He moans softly, following your movement willingly. His eyes race between yours, sparkling in devotion.

“You’re so handsome like this”, you say, tracing the hem of the scarf right under his eyes.

“Mhmh”, he lets out, pulling a fond chuckle to the surface.

You smile with your eyes, showing him your teeth. He thinks you have the prettiest teeth. He aches to have them mark his skin, just as he aches for your lipstick marks and the heaven of your fingertips.

You lean in, kissing his lips over the scarf. Jungkook tries to kiss you back, to feel you and taste the sweetness of your kiss. But to no avail. You have him tied up and denied of his paradise. You pull back with a soft hum and your thumb swiping over his covered lips.

“Cat’s got your tongue, mhm?”

Jungkook sags his shoulders, fluttering his lashes at you. He feels so droopy that it gets hard to sit up.

“Mhm, such a cutie”, you chuckle and place your hands on his chest. You give him a soft push.

Jungkook falls gladly, arching his back on impact as a muffled moan leaves him. His dark hair falls messily, looking like rivers of ebony on the pale sheets. He wiggles around for a bit to get his arms comfortable, then stays still with his devoted eyes glued to you.

You climb over his leg, kneeling on the mattress as your eyes run over his body. The impact made it so his shirt fell open. His lean, sculpted torso is on full display. His pierced nipples look delicious in the lights.

“Look at you”, you say.

Jungkook shifts, trying his hardest to look even more presentable to you.

“To think that you’re mine…” you trail off, lowering yourself so you could drag your lips over his neck.

Jungkook mewls, rolling his head to the side. You suck on his skin. It feels warm at first, intense next, before a sharp sting shoots through his skin. He moans, arching his back.

You release him with a bop of your lips, running your eyes over the purple bruise you left.

“I’m the luckiest woman. I really am”, you say and place a second bruise right above the first.

Jungkook sighs and moans, feeling dizzy. You think that you are lucky. It’s unbelievable to him, because Jungkook knows for a fact that he is the one who is lucky. Out of all the people on earth you picked him. Jungkook fucking existed for you the moment he laid eyes on you and he never thought it possible to be yours one day. And you like to argue that you are the lucky one. No, Jungkook knows that he is lucky. So, so lucky.

“Mhm mine”, you purr and kiss paths down to his pecs. You need him marked everywhere. Not just his neck but everywhere. You need him to know that he is owned each time he takes off his clothes. When he undresses in front of the bathroom mirror, you want his eyes to flit to the purple marks first and you want his skin to remember how it felt like to be claimed. He should run his fingers over the marks as the warm water trails down his body and you want him thinking that the sweetest thing to be is yours.

“Mine. All mine”, you whisper. You kissed your way to his left nipple after leaving bruises on his chest. His piercing feels warm under your lips. The faint taste of metal meets your tongue. You part your lips and bite. You take a good amount of flesh around his nipple between your teeth and tug on it.

Jungkook wails up in ecstasy, arching his back because nothing will ever prepare him for your teeth claiming him. His cock twitches and throbs in his pants, the desire to be utterly ruined grows. It hurts, but nothing hurts more than when you release his tender skin to move on to another spot.

He wants to beg, to plead, to ask for more but the scarf around his mouth muffles his words.

You purr against his skin as your lips look for a new spot to mark. He would be happy with any spot, but you are particular. Looking, exploring, feeling until you finally feel happy. Warmth first which ends in an intense sting and Jungkook’s cock throbbing in his pants. He writhes on the sheets, whimpering behind the scarf.

“You’re needy tonight”, you tease with a light chuckle on your lips and Jungkook can merely agree with another whimper and his legs opening on the sheets. He brushes against your leg that way, pulling your attention to it. You sit back on your heels.

You study the big bulge in his black slacks. His small waist, his big thighs and how quickly his stomach lifts and sinks in needy pants for air. He is so pretty. 

“Want me to take those off for you?” you ask, playing with the button of his slacks.

He nods his head vigorously, lifting his hips off the mattress.

“Mhm, I like it when you’re eager”, you say and pull the button open. Next the zipper. Jungkook can barely function at the thought of being undressed. He helps you with slipping out his left leg, spreading it from himself once he is undressed. You pull his slacks down until they pool a little over his knee, then run your hands along his legs.

“Look at you. You’re so hard”, you taunt, ghosting your palm under his bulge.

Jungkook tries to move his hips into your touch, but fails miserably. He is left aching for you while you lower your lips to his exposed thigh. He put it so perfectly for you to explore. And so it begins again. Your touches, your kisses, your exploration. Jungkook feels dizzier with each hickey you leave on his skin and loses his sanity with every new bite mark you leave.

Soon you have him begging for more. Soon you have him writhing for your touch and whimpering behind the scarf. More than he has already been doing. Oh he sounds so desperate, so completely agonised. You lift your lips from his marked thigh, studying his face.

“What do you want?” you ask even if you know the answer.

“Mgmhgfmg”, he tries to talk, but it only comes out as unintelligible noises.

“I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

“Mhmhm”, he tries with more urgency, lifting his hips repeatedly.

“Aaah you want me to take those off?” you fake your sudden enlightenment and click your tongue, “why didn’t you say so sooner? Silly boy”, you say and hook your fingers in his briefs. You rip them off of him. Jungkook mewls, watching you ruin his briefs as if they were nothing. He drops his head and moans, thinking to himself that he won’t ever be able to escape you. You make sure of it day by day and seal his fucking fate each time you unravel him.

“There we go. That’s better”, you say and throw his ruined briefs to the side. They land on the sheets and look so perfectly placed. As if you hadn’t ruined them seconds ago.

You run your eyes over his newly exposed cock. It lies hard and flushed against his stomach, aching to be touched. No wonder he needed to be freed. It looks so painful.

“Does it hurt, mhm?” you taunt, guiding your fingers over his cock without ever touching him.

Jungkook swears he can feel your touch, panting heavily as the ghost of your fingers drags its claws down his aching length.

“Mhm-hmh”, he gets out, nodding his head vigorously.

“Tzt, poor boy”, you say with pity in your voice and despite that, you lift your hand again, never giving him what he craves most.

Jungkook huffs out air in desperate whines, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. You can’t see his desperate gaze as you are busy looking at his pretty hole. Soft. Flushed just like his cock. Jungkook likes to wax himself. Well, he has someone else doing it, but point is that he is obsessed with being smooth for you. Not a single strand of hair adorns his body, his skin aches to be messied by you.

You connect the pads of your fingers with his hole and draw circles.

“Mhhhhm”, Jungkook lets out, throwing his head back and rolling his hips into your touch. This feels so good. He ached for the first touch like winter aches for snow and now that he finally has it, Jungkook might actually burst in pleasure. It feels so good. So, so good. He keeps rolling his hips instinctively as he chases your fingers.

You chuckle, “so needy”, you taunt and apply just a little pressure on his rim, “and soft.”

“Mhmhmhm.”

“Speak up.”

Jungkook clenches his hole needily, begging you with foggy eyes.

“You don’t want it?” you act oblivious, retreating your touch.

“Mhm!” he lets out loudly and looks for your touch with squirmy hips.

“No?”

He shakes his head, fucking the air desperately.

“So you do want me to touch you?”

He nods his head, humming a yes as best as possible. His voice sounds so perfect like this.

“You really have to work on your communication, I never know what you want”, you taunt and place your fingers back against his hole.

Jungkook purrs happily, closing his eyes halfway. His cock twitches on his tummy, lifting of a few inches repeatedly. It leaks pretty droplets of desperation, showing you his gratefulness this way.

“So pretty for me”, you say under your breath and retreat your touch.

Jungkook begs instantly, squirming needily. You are so cruel. He could cry. He begged like you asked him to, tried to be as clear with his communication as he can in his current state and yet you still took your touch away. Jungkook wonders what he did to deserve such punishment tonight, begging as loud as his covered mouth allows him to. He even messes up the sheets as he digs his heels into the mattress to wiggle his hips even harder.

“Look at you. How needy can someone be?” you are taunting him, making it hurt even more.

“Eeeh, eeh, ee-eh”, he tries to say please but it only comes out as squeaks.

“Relax, I’ll be back soon”, you assure him and wrap your arms around his leg so you could hold it still and kiss his knee, “promise. Be patient, it’ll be worth it.”

Jungkook calms down even if he wants to continue to beg. You sound truthful however and he wants to be good for you. He loves being good for you.

“That’s better. I’ll be back soon”, you promise and turn to climb off the bed.

It doesn’t pass a lot of time, but it feels like eternity to Jungkook. He wants to think clear thoughts, get himself back in order, but he can’t. His mind is racing with one thought and one thought only. I need her back, please. Please, please, please. He needs you back for his own sanity.

The mattress dents next to his legs, then his pants suddenly get pulled down his leg. Jungkook lets it happen with a dizzy head, moaning needily when he feels your bite on his unmarked thigh seconds later. You bite hard and you bite deep. Jungkook fucks the air because of it, mewling your name even if the scarf muffles it.

“You’re cute”, you tease him and straighten back up. You are so nonchalant about the entire situation while Jungkook feels ruined. It ruins him even more that you are. 

Jungkook wiggles on the sheets, looking at you as best as possible. You are still in your dress, presenting a black prostate toy in your hands. The nail polish matches with your dress, looking especially red against the dark shaft of the vibrator.

Jungkook mewls, clenching his hole.

“You know what I wanna do with that?”

He nods his head vigorously, opening his legs further.

“Do you want it?”

He swears he might pull a muscle in his neck if he has to nod his head any harder. Yes yes yes! Yes! Of course he wants it! Of course, of course, of course!

You give him a smile. There is some lipstick on your teeth because of all your biting. Jungkook thinks you are even prettier this way, moaning just for you as his body completely melts for you.

“Of course you do. You’re my needy man after all”, you say and caress his inner thigh.

Jungkook agrees with a mewl of your name. He is. He is your needy man and he is so proud to be.

You retreat your touch for a moment so you could lube up the toy. He is obsessed with the view. Your fingers look so sexy when they are wet from lube. He wants them around his throat or thighs or cock or waist. Anywhere really. Just fucking anywhere so he can feel owned by you. Even more owned than he already does.

You touch his rim. Jungkook closes his eyes and moans. So wet and gentle. He is owned. Finally he can feel it. He is your possession. 

“I can’t finger you open tonight because of my acrylics. Is that too intense for you?” you make sure.

He shakes his head. He is so needy that he knows his unprepared hole will take the toy easily. He sometimes gets like this. When you’ve got him deep enough in subspace, he basically aches to have his hole filled. No preparation needed because everything else has already prepared him enough.

“Of course it isn’t. Why did I even ask?” you tease and chuckle. You connect the head of the toy with his hole.

Jungkook holds his breath. His heart might give up if he gets any more excited.

“Ready?”

He nods his head.

“Here it comes.”

The stretch is instant. His hole opens up so easily. Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face in ecstasy. Finally. He needed it so bad. He breathes quickly, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts.

“Would you look at that? Slipped right in. You needed it so bad, didn’t you?”

Jungkook nods his head, writhing sensually as his once empty hole gets filled to the brim. The toy is around two fingers thick and with a smooth surface. A faint curve presses the tip against his prostate, making sure that he gets stimulated where it feels the best. He is so obsessed with it. Which is why you and he took it with you on your city trip. He needed to know that if the chance shall arise, he can have his favourite toy. He is so happy about your planning now that it is finally put to use. It will never lose its spark. Jungkook feels paradisiacal with it inside.

The toy bottoms out. You trace his puffy rim, switching your eyes between his stuffed hole, his hard cock and his blissed-out face. He is breathing quickly, moving constantly because it is the only way for his body to handle what you give him.

“How’s that? Comfy?”

“Mh-hm”, he gets out and trembles just once. He buries his head deeper in the sheets, opening his legs further. It’s perfect. That’s what it is. Jungkook feels so good.

“That’s good”, you say, taking the remote control between your fingers.

Switch.

Jungkook grunts in surprise, following it up with an arch of his back and a high-pitched whimper. You keep the vibrations on the lowest level. The toy purrs quietly inside him, giving him slow waves of stimulation.

“Does this do something for you?”

He nods his head quickly, making the prettiest sounds. You love everything about Jungkook as your sub, but what you love most is how vocal and loud he always is. He is such a good, noisy toy. He really is.

“Of course it does”, you say and turn your back to him so you could get off the bed.

Jungkook lifts his head, following you with widened, confused eyes.

“Mhm?” 

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m keeping it on”, you say and disappear in the bathroom. You keep the door open.

Jungkook mewls and keens fruitlessly, moving around the sheets until he has view of the bathroom. It is a very interesting bathroom as the wall separating it from the bedroom is made out of glass. Only the toilet area is separated by a wall, everything else is on perfect display to Jungkook.

You are looking back at him from behind the glass wall, currently taking off your jewellery while beside you on the counter, the remote control is laying.

Jungkook spills tears and lets out a soft sob. You are so cruel and perfect. You abandoned him, tied up and gagged. You left him with the vibrator on the faintest setting as if he wasn’t important. He feels like a toy that you grew bored of and it’s making him so dizzy that he actually starts to see you blurry.

Truth is, this is all part of your plan. Of course you haven’t grown bored of him. You are in a rush of ecstasy. Watching him writhe and gaze at you through the glass gets you off like nothing else. He looks so desperate and needy. The desire to turn up the vibrations of his toy is unbearable, but you know not to yet. You need to drag this out, get him so desperate that the only thing stopping him from screaming is the scarf over his mouth.

You keep a sharp eye on him through the reflection of the big mirror while Jungkook keeps looking at you with blurry vision. He watches as you finish taking off your jewellery and how you begin taking off your makeup. First your lips. Messy and red. Then your eyes. Dark and dishevelled. You part your lips and lean closer to the mirror to get everything. It results in your back to arch and for your ass to reshape the form of your dress.

Jungkook clenches around the toy, spilling on his stomach. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He thinks. Fuck he needs you to heighten the vibrations or else he might scream. He is so needy and what the toy is giving him is not enough. He needs more and he needs you and more and you and. And. He needs you back with him and to stop teasing. Please.

You move away from the mirror and discard the dirty make up wipe. You look at him again, ghosting your hand over the remote. Jungkook feels his stomach tighten and his lungs work quicker at the aspect of getting more. Ne needs it. More. More. More.

You pull your hand away.

Jungkook sobs softly, spilling tears. Please. More. Please more. It’s all he needs. Please? Maybe?

He begins clenching and relaxing his hole in hopes of moving the toy this way. It works just enough that the ache gets soothed to the point of electric warmth. It doesn’t hurt quite that much anymore. Jungkook squirms on the sheets, lowering his lids as it gets hard to stare. He doesn’t want to look away however because you are currently taking off your dress. You move your body sensually for it, opening the zipper slowly. Once open, you let the dress glide down your arms. It pools by your feet. Jungkook curses into his scarf gag, fucking the air desperately. Your lingerie hugs your curves just right, bringing out the addicting femininity of you. You’re his fucking goddess. You really are.

“Ahm!” he lets out as the toy inside him suddenly purrs louder. He whimpers, shaking on the sheets. You pressed the button, increased the vibrations and Jungkook has to pay the consequences. His legs begin trembling against his will, each second feels like heaven and hell at the same time. It is so, so close to being enough. Jungkook fucks the air repeatedly, grabbing a bundle of the sheets as best as his tied up arms allow him to.

He is so far gone that he can’t even see as you take off your lingerie and step into the shower. You don’t mind. It’s already enough to watch him writhe and shake. He is so lovely to look at. He is such a delight when he trembles. This strong, confident man on the sheets, shaking and squirming just for you. His needy sounds meet your eyes quietly. Distance makes it so. You don’t mind. It just means that you have to press the button one more time before you step into the shower and get your hands wet.

You press the button two times. Because you know the toy well and know exactly how many times you need to press the button the switch to Jungkook’s favourite setting. A strong, wave like pattern with one second of intense vibration at the end before it ebbs down again. It repeats over and over again. Jungkook arches off the sheets, drops again, arches again, drops, shakes. It is as if he was trapped in an endless fight with pleasure, writhing for mercy only you can give him. His noises meet your ears in clearer volume. He is moaning in his sweetest voice, following it up with needy mewls and ruined sobs. Lovely. This is so wonderful.

You place the remote on the corner of the counter and step into the shower. You keep your eyes on him as you wash yourself, running your hands over your own body in sensual touches. He turns you on so fucking good.

Jungkook has no idea what you have been up to ever since you took off your dress and those deep vibrations started. He has his eyes closed. Squeezed shut because it’s impossible to keep them open. It feels so good. So good that it borders too much. He can’t stop shaking, his neck is slowly starting to hurt because he keeps tensing in panicky attempts to stop those shakes. His stomach is so tense. He can feel every single muscle in it. He swears that he can even feel the muscles which are responsible for making his cock twitch. It feels so good. So good that it borders too much.

Jungkook moans because this is everything he can do and messes up the sheets as his legs kick against his will. The toy presses against his prostate. He always thinks that he isn’t a needy man, that he isn’t sensitive and doesn’t easily get ruined by sex. And you always, fucking always, prove him wrong. He is sensitive and this is easily ruining him. He is pulsating and convulsing around the toy, tensing his muscles even though it makes him so much tighter. Everything he is doing happens against his will. His body is slave to the pleasure and his mind is her hostage.

You turn off the water and get out of the shower, reaching for the towel. He is such a delight to watch. He is shaking so much at this point that you fear for his body. Poor man, he looks so vulnerable and fragile right now. It would be a shame if your finger slipped and oops.

Jungkook’s loud scream meets your ears. It is distorted and muffled by your scarf. You watch in addictive delight how he arches his back to its breaking point. His tied arms hold him up by his elbows, his shaking hands grip the sheets to the point his fingertips are pale. He shakes, shakes, shakes.

You watch with a dark smirk on your lips as your hands dry your own body. Look at him shake and shake and shake.

Suddenly he stills and drops into the sheets. His legs begin twitching uncontrollably, his noises become quiet again. He is squeaking and sobbing. In his shakes he rolled his head to the other side, so you can’t see his expression right now.

You abandon the towel by the sink and leave the bathroom with the remote in your hand.

“Forgive me for disappearing like that, but I-”, your words get cut short at the view of him.

His stomach is covered in his white cum, your pink scarf is soaked in his tears and drool. He is still shaking, crying desperate tears with squeezed shut eyes.

“Kook”, you gasp, “holy fuck, look at you. Look at the mess you made.”

Jungkook whimpers in the distinct way he does when he wants to communicate something. He looks at you with barely open eyes, moving his head in a way that lets you know he wants the scarf gone.

You climb onto the bed and tug it under his chin.

“Please”, he begs with trembling lips. His lower face is messy from his drool, “please turn it off. Please.”

“Fuck, you’re ruined”, you say and press the button which turns off the toy.

Jungkook drops in the sheets, grinding his teeth in relief. His body becomes useless instantly, no inch of muscle seems to work.

“Thank you”, he croaks and rolls his eyes back before closing them. He gulps and swallows heavily, fighting for air.

“God, look at you”, you say, running your hand over his cheek in soothing caresses, “you look ruined.”

He nods his head slowly.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah”, he whispers.

“You know that this was supposed to be foreplay, don’t you?”

He peels his eyes open halfway. They both show his utter exhaustion and his eagerness to please. You snicker, booping his flushed nose.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault that you cum too soon.”

“It wasn’t too soon. You stuffed me with a vibrator and then let me suffer with the best setting for too long”, he throws back even if his tongue is dragging the words.

You laugh and move closer until you can kiss his cheek. He sighs happily, leaning into the touch as best as possible. You pull back, gazing into his eyes.

“Still sounds like a You problem”, you tease, snickering mischievously when Jungkook furrows his brows. You trace the creases between his brows, feeling your heart flutter, “how about I untie your arms and then you can relax by having me sit on your face?”

“You’re my fucking goddess, holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out.

You laugh, “so that’s a yes?”

“Yes, holy fuck.”

“You’re cute. I’m not taking the toy out, by the way. Make with this information what you want.”

“Holy fuck, I’m actually gonna die in this hotel room, aren’t I?”

You peck his lips, pulling back with a playful grin. “Maybe.”

[vminhoes]

I can keep a secret (can you?)

Popstar Taehyung's fans and famous rapper Yoongi's fans despise each other.

Everyone assumes Taehyung and Yoongi hate each other as well.

Key word: assumes

[yourmanz-sodapop]

Welcome one welcome all! I hope you all enjoy this humble blog Dreaming With BTS

Individual or ot7 dreams are a click away 💜

F-Fluff S-Suggestive NSFW A-Angst M-Mature (not NSWF)

BTS

Jin

Yoongi

Hoseok

Namjoon

💜 Moving 💜 Settling 💜Settled

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Ot7 - reactions & headcannons

💜 BTS reaction to BF smoking after quitting

💜BTS reaction to being jealous of your ex

[jmvore]

As wild thoughts won here's a little idea,how about getting jimin pretty jewellery and dressing him up making him feel pretty,could add cross dressing too and maybe encouraging him to go on a date like that as a way of expressing his feminity

Pretty in Diamonds

» rating › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » warning(s) › MOMMY!KINK, smut, jimin naked and wearing diamonds, jacking jimin off in front of the closet mirror, cum eating, calling jimin nicknames, telling jimin he's pretty. sweet talk turns into dirty talk real quick. » words(s) › 1.9k+ » post date › 12/14/2023 » song playing › got to be with me by black buddafly » a/n › so I got carried away and didn't include the cross-dressing (I completely forgot) but I hope you like this version.

"Jimin!" You call his name as you enter the door with a giant present. You don't know where he is within the house, but you know he's home. He told you he was. Plus, his car is outside. "Petal! Where are you?" You sing, placing your purse on the entryway table and throwing your keys into the bowl.

The lights are off downstairs so the only place he could be is upstairs (or maybe in the basement but you doubt it).

"Sweetheart?" Heading upstairs, you hear the shower running, but instead of surprising him, you decide to wait for him on the bed. Coat off and hung away in the walk-in closet, heels kicked half-hazard by the door. You'll shower afterward, eager to give him his gifts right now. To pass the time, you scroll through your Amazon cart to see which gift you want to buy him for Christmas.

You don't realize the water has stopped, and the door swings open. Jimin walks into the bedroom with only his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he dries his hair with a towel.

"Oh hey, You're home!" Jimin says, grabbing his water bottle off the dresser and taking a swig. "I thought you were going to be late?"

"Seokjin sent everyone home for the night. Something about not wanting people to feel overworked."

"Oh." You wave for him to come closer as he eyes the box next to you. " What's this?"

"Something for you, my love." You hold the box to him with a soft smile, though your eyes shine excitedly at his reaction. "I hope you like it."

"Cartier?" Jimin eyes grow wide at the name on the box. "That's exp-"

"Nothing is expensive when it comes to you, Petal." He avoids eye contact the moment you take his hand, but you notice the pink dust that makes its way across his cheeks.

"What is it?"

"Open it." You notice his Adam's apple bob. "You'll like them, I promise."

He nods, tearing at it to open the bigger box, when he notices two smaller boxes inside. He gasps, head snapping back to look at you.

"Darling, really?" He asks, eyes bugging from his head.

He's so cute you wanna kiss him silly.

"Mhmh." You don't give him room to argue, pushing the box closer. "Open them."

He does it with quickness. One of the boxes containing a body chain while the other contains a necklace that connects the pieces together. He holds the jewelry in between his fingers as he inspects the silver chains.

"You didn't have to."

"I know but I wanted to."

He grins. You didn't have to get him anything but he knows that arguing with you is impossible because you love spoiling him.

"Do you like?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jimin hugs you tightly and leans down to kiss you, but you stop him with an index finger to his lips. "I love it. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, honey. They had one that would've gone around your waist but I didn't want to overwhelm you with gifts. C'mere, Try them on."

"Help me?" You nod, pulling him to stand in front of you. The jewelry is easy enough to figure out. When he finally gets it on, you can't help but drool at how hot he looks. Your focus lingers on his chest as you reach out and trace the jewels that outline his chest with your fingertips. He leans into your touch, his eyes filled with emotion. You feel a spark of electricity shoot through you as he leans closer to kiss you again.

This time you give him what he wants.

"I love you so much." You nip at his bottom lip when he pulls away, eyes closed but with a satisfied smirk on his face. He twists a bit, trying to look at it from behind but he can't see it.

"Well? How does it look?"

"Gorgeous." You look him in the eye to convey your sincerity. His heart races as he takes a deep breath and giggles, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. An overwhelming sense of joy overtakes you. You're glad he's happy. "Now. Strip."

"Huh?"

You turn around and pat him on the behind.

"Strip."

"R-Right now?"

"Yes. I want to see you wearing nothing but the jewelry, Petal."

"Okay." You can see the way his eyes shift and the way he fidgets with his thumbs gives it away. He's nervous. His body language speaks volumes as he seems anxious and unsure about himself. He seems uncomfortable in his own skin. He keeps glancing around the room as if he is searching for an escape.

You stop him before he gets inside of his head. Encourage him to slow down, take a deep breath, and go at his own pace.

Telling him he's worth the wait.

"Petal."

"Yes?"

"Look at me, please." He does when you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss, gently. He looks away shyly, her cheeks flushing harder than before. You watch him run his hands through his hair before shaking it out. He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a ray of emotions. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing."

"No." You grab both his hands and shake her head. "None of that. Tell me, Petal."

"I dunno. I jus-" He frowns, hesitating before speaking. His voice barely more than a whisper, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh baby. No." You wrap your arms around him and hold on tighter. His body feels warm against yours. You don't want to let him go. "Look at me." You caress his chin and bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. You feel like you're looking into the depths of his soul. You both stand there, connected, in the moment. He can sense the warmth and love in your expression. He feels safe and protected in your arms. "I know it's going to take some time to undo all the hurt they caused but I'm willing to work but you have to work with me."

"Do you trust me?" You walk backward to sit down on the edge of the bed before holding your hand out for him and pausing. Waiting for him to answer.

"I do."

"Let me show you're worth it."

When Jimin steps closer, he drops his pajama pants, revealing he has nothing on underneath. You start caressing his chest before running your nails down his stomach, his muscles tense at your touch.

The feeling was a bit overwhelming.

You help him fix the chain that wraps around his chest, the jewelry making his chest look bigger than it is but it makes him feel so classy. so delicate. so beautiful.

you scoot to the front of the bed where the mirror on the closet sits. opening your legs, he sits between them and leans back into you. you know he's eyeing himself from head to toe.

"How do you feel looking at yourself, my love?"

"i-" Jimin's breath hitches the moment you put your hands on his waist and give it a soft squeeze. you move to sit on your knees and hug him close. your chin sitting on his shoulder.

"tell me how do you feel, petal?"

"pretty. it looks pretty on me." you smile as he shyly glances down. it makes you want to hurt the ones who hurt him because who would even think about tearing this angel down.

"ah, ah... eyes up sweetheart."

"darling..."

"you know what I think?" you ask, trailing your finger down the expanse of his stomach again. you watch a chill run down his spine as he shakes. "I think you look ravishing. the diamonds bring out your eyes and it makes me want to worship your body while you wear them."

jimin whimpers, closing his eyes the moment you reach for his cock. you know he's sensitive to the touch if the way his cock is leaking says anything. red, swollen and oh so pretty, just like he is.

"i'm close..."

"I know you are. you know what I want you to do?"

"No..." He moans. The warmth of your tongue he feels climbing up the side of his neck causes him to shudder. He leans into you, his lips parting slightly, his heart racing. You press soft kisses to his neck, your lips lingering for a moment. "H-Honey..." His breathing quickens the closer you get to his ear. His heart thumped in his chest as you turned his head so he was able to look at you.

Finally, you pull away, leaving him wanting more.

"I want you to watch yourself cum all over my fingers." You watch him through the mirrors with no desire to turn away. "I want you to know I'm doing this because you deserve it. You deserve to be loved and taken care of, Petal. I don't care what anyone else told you because they're wrong. You understand me?"

"Yes! Yes! Please." He whines, his moans of pleasure growing louder the more he lets himself go. He's so wet. His pre-cum drooling from the tip as you use it for lube to make it wetter. Sloppier. "I'm gonna cum..."

"I know baby." You chuckle at the way he grips the covers around you, trying his hardest to not lose control but it's getting harder the more you keep going.

"Please..."

"What do you want, Petal?" You ask, slowing down a bit but not enough for him to lose his high. "Tell me what you want."

"To cum. P-Please let me cum, Mommy!"

"Tell me, how do you feel, petal?"

"I feel so pretty!" He yells, rocking his hips harder as he finally hits his high as he cums all over your hand. Some hit the floor, and some hit the mirror (you'll have to clean that later). He watches as you stick your cumcovered fingers into your mouth and lick it off. Salty but satisfying to see him bite his bottom lip. "Fuck..."

"Feel good?"

"Yes... Thank you."

"You're welcome, Petal." You grin, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Next time I'm going to dress you up so pretty, petal. You'll look like my beautiful flower. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"No. What to we say, Petal?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. Now, you wanna know the reason I bought this?" Jimin falls back on the bed as you climb on top of him. He shakes his head and of course, you can't help but chuckle at how exhausted he looks.

"Why?"

"Because I know you'll look fucking gorgeous when I fuck you while you're wearing them."

If Jimin could pop another boner, he would because fuck that would be so damn hot.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck yes." You lean down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning as he leans up for more.

"I know you would but right now we have pressing matters?"

"What's wrong?"

"We have a business dinner we have to attend."

"Tonight?"

"Tomorrow. So if you could, I'll need you home by seven if you can. I know sometimes your classes run late." You trace his chest as he huffs, loving the feeling. "And, I want you to wear the diamonds."

"Why?"

"Everyone else needs to know how gorgeous you look in them. They just won't get this view." You wink, collapsing next to Jimin and cuddling into his side. He pulls you so you're lying on top of him as he takes you in.

"I love you."

"And I love you, Petal."

And well, he doesn't mind it at all because he loves how you care for him. Your desire to make him happy is evident in how you treat him, and he feels lucky to have you in his life. He knows that no matter what he does, he won't be able to repay you for all that you've done for him.

© 2020 - 2023 » JMVORE || » All Rights Reserved.   DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!

[joonlaksme]

Kinktober 2023

This Kinktober will be different. I will no longer be writing amab readers and sub readers. I’ll also start writing for Stray Kids. Enjoy!!

Oct 1st: Lee Know x Somnophilia

Oct 5th: Jeon Jungkook x Tattoos

Oct 10th: Bang Chan x Pegging

Oct 17th: Park Jimin x Camboy

Oct 20th: Lee Felix x Puppy Play

Oct 25th: Kim Seokjin x Mirrors

Oct 31st: Seo Changbin x Footjob

-

My Masterlist!

All likes, reblogs, and comment feedback are appreciated for stories like this. Friendly reminder that reblogs spread more than likes!

All rights are reserved © joonlaksme

[kooklovee]

Drunk in love (m) - JJK

Jungkook takes care of his adorably drunk girlfriend, in more than a few ways.

Pairing - bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader

Oneshot - 2.5k words

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, fluff, smut MDNI

Warnings - mention of drinking, Jk's cute lil gf and her drunk talks, kisses, pet names, Explicit smut - unprotected sex, creampie, soft dom Jk, nipple play, fingering, marking, riding, praises, sideways missionary, sleepy sex vibes?, brat calling in a cute way (once), aftercare

a/n - well you can tell by now, that I'm loving fluff writing more n more

divider credit - @uzmacchiato

Masterlist kofi

---------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a chill girls’ night out. Just a weekend meet-up with your friends after months of hectic schedules. You hadn’t planned on drinking much—your alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly low, and you rarely drink to begin with.

Now... well.

The table is a half-chaotic mess. Your head slumped against your folded arms, face half-squished. The music is loud, the lights spin in every direction, and your cheeks ache from laughing too much.

Around you, the girls aren't doing much better. Mina is giggling uncontrollably at her own joke that no one else had heard. And Nari is hugging a pillow she had stolen from the lounge couch nearby.

Sooah is the only sober one.. and well unimpressed as well. “Okay, that’s it. I’m calling all your boyfriends.”

It didn’t take long for the boyfriends to show up like a well-trained rescue squad.

Yoongi was the first to appear, scanning the room, and finding Nari. He lets out the softest little sigh before walking over to his girlfriend and gently pulling her upright.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, slipping her arm over his shoulder as she blinked slowly up at him, smiling like she's just seen her favorite person in the world.

Jungkook is the next to walk in.

His eyes landing on you instantly- slumped over the table on your folded arms, head resting sideways on them, lips blabbering something.

With a slight amused shake of his head he makes his way to you, crouching beside the couch with a hand reaching out to touch your shoulder.

“Yaaah,” you slur, with eyes closed, voice muffled and adorably dramatic, “Don’t touch me.”

He freezes. “Baby?”

You lift your head just a little, squinting without really opening your eyes, and raise a wobbly finger in his direction like a threat.

“My boyfriend’s gonna fight you,” you warn seriously. “He’s got lots of muscles, okay? with tattoos and all..”

Yoongi snorts, overhearing from beside you as he pickes up Nari’s purse.

“Is that so?” Jungkook asks, lips twitching as he tries not to laugh. He rests his elbow on the table, leaning closer to your flushed face.

“And he sings like an angel too..”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Really?” he whispers.

You squint, frowning just a bit as your eyes try to focus on his face.

“You look like my boyfriend,” you mumble suspiciously.

Jungkook smiles, lips curving as he tilts his head a little closer. “That’s because I am your boyfriend, baby.”

You blink again, before whispering in awe, “Kookie..”

He bites back a laugh, gently brushing your hair behind your ear, gaze impossibly soft. “It's me baby. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Jungkook holds you close as you both step out of the club, and then scoops you up in his arms, carrying you all the way to the car, your head lolling against his shoulder, mumbling incoherent things, with your boyfriend agreeing to them all.

Jungkook opens the car door, carefully settles you down in the passenger seat.

You begin singing along to the radio, off-key and loud while he just smiles to himself, laughing quietly as he drives.

When you reach home, he lifts you into his arms again, carrying you up to your shared apartment while you cling to him like a koala, humming nonsense.

He sits you down, removing your heels with ease.

You nod mindlessly, legs swinging from the edge of the counter when he brings you to the bathroom. He grabs a makeup wipe and starts cleaning your face.

“Don’t move so much, baby. Let me wipe your face, yeah?” he murmurs.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes and grin.

“You look so cute today” you say, blinking slowly. “Like… too cute. Illegal levels of cute.”

He chuckles under his breath, “Thank you, drunk princess.”

You close your eyes, letting him gently wipe your makeup off, his movements tender. He pauses every now and then to place a soft kiss on your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs as he works, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You beam lazily.

Jungkook was just finishing wiping off the last bit of your lipstick, leaning in to kiss your clean cheek, when you throw him a question.

“Do you also want four kids?” you ask out of nowhere, your voice slurred.

He freezes, the used wipe still in his hand. “Huh?”

You didn’t even notice the way his brows shot up. You were too busy swinging your legs and playing with his tshirt.

“Yuri said Taehyung wants four kids after they get married,” you mumble, nodding. “Four’s a lot, right? I mean... not toooo many but still..”

He lets out a broken flustered laugh as he covers his face for a second. “You’re gonna kill me.” He mutters behind his hands.

“Just answer,” you poke his chest with one finger, lips forming a pout.

Jungkook moves your hand aside gently, stepping between your knees again. His voice soft as he replies, “However many you want, princess. Even if it’s four.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, brushing your hair back again. “But maybe let’s talk about it when you’re not drunk off your cute little ass.”

You giggle, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

After making sure you were watered, and settled, Jungkook climbs into the bed beside you- shirtless, as always.

He kisses your shoulder, then your hair, murmuring a soft, “Goodnight, baby.”

“...Kook,” you whisper after some moment.

He hums sleepily.

“Kookie...”

Another hum, this one softer. "Hm.?"

You turn around in his arms, blinking at him with a sleepy pout. “I really love you, y’know?”

He smiles, sleepily pecking your nose. “I know, baby. Now sleep.”

Your pout deepens. “You love me too, right?”

His voice comes out fond. “I do, baby. So much. Now sleep, my love.”

“...Would you still love me if I turned into a caterpillar tomorrow?” you mumble seriously.

Jungkook lets out a groggy groan, with a breathless laugh, tightening his arm around you. “Babyy...”

“I’m serious,” you slur. “Like a little green one. All squishy.”

He chuckles again, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Yes, baby. I’d still love you the same. Caterpillar, worm, butterfly—anything you feel like turning into.”

“But what if—”

Jungkook silenced you with a kiss.

“No more ‘what ifs,’ princess,” he mumbles, pulling you fully against his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. “Sleep now. I’ll take care of you tomorrow when you’ve turned into a little caterpillar, okay?”

You giggle softly, melting into his hold. “Mmkay…”

Jungkook smiles to himself, stroking your back gently as sleep finally claims you both.

It was nearly dawn, when you stir. The room's quiet, but something else was slowly pulling you out of sleep.

You shift slightly and that’s when you feel something hard and familiar pressing against your lower back.

You stayed still for a moment, unsure if he was awake, but the subtle way he exhaled against your neck, still deep in sleep, told you he wasn’t.

The alcohol from last night still lingered faintly in your system, making everything feel warmer, and more intense.

A soft gasp slips from your lips as Jungkook unconsciously pulls you tighter, his arm around your waist securing you against him as his hips pressed forward just a bit—his hardness now snug against your ass through the thin layers of fabric separating you.

Heat was curling low in your belly, you bit your lip, suppressing a soft whine. but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Kook…” you whisper.

Your boyfriend doesn't answer.

You snuggle back against him, your hips pressing into his as you call again, “Jungkook...”

A sleepy groan rumbles from his chest, and his hold around your waist tightens slightly, but his eyes stayed closed.

“Koo...” you whimper softly, need laced in your voice this time.

This time, he blinks slowly, his eyes heavy-lidded as they flutter open. He looks at you from behind, disoriented and adorably dazed.

“Mm... baby?” he rasps, voice rough from sleep. His brows furrow slightly as his body adjusts to the feeling of your soft curves pressed against his arousal. “What’s wrong?”

You turn slightly to meet his gaze, eyes pleading, “Need you..”

His expression slowly changes as sleep wears off. He glances down, feeling your legs shift, your chest rises and falls faster.

licking his lips, he leans in just a little. “You want me now, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Please.."

“Come here.”

You turn around fully in his arms, your eyes locking with his for a split second before his lips find your neck. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His mouth is warm against your skin, leaving a trail of heat as his hands slip under your oversized t-shirt.

His palm meet your bare breast, and you gasp, your back arching into his touch. He groans softly, cupping you fully as his thumb brushes over your nipple, already hard. He pinches them drawing out a breathy moan from you.

He hums against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Kook please...”

“Please what?” he whispers, hands already trailing his down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin.

You grab his wrist, guiding him lower. He chuckles breathlessly, letting you- his hand slips past the waistband of your panties cupping you.

“Fuck, baby... you’re so drenched,” he rasps, rubbing you slowly with his fingers, making your hips buck. “You wanted my cock that bad, huh?”

You nod desperately, your breathing already heavy.

He bites into your neck gently making you gasp, before his fingers finally slide your panties to the side. Without wasting another second, he pushes two fingers in.

Your moan is instant, your body arching into his chest as he curls his fingers inside you.

“There you go,” he murmurs into your ear, his fingers working rhythmically. “God, you're so tight even for my fingers, baby.”

Your legs tangle with his as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, driving you closer and closer.

“You gonna cum just from my fingers, hm?” he teased, voice thick with arousal.

You could only whimper, burying your face in his neck as your hips moved helplessly against his hand.

His fingers keeps moving inside you, curling just right, his thumb pressing firm circles on your clit until the tension inside you snapped. You moan into his neck as your body trembles and breath stutters as you come around his fingers.

He holds you close, whispering sweet things as your body calms, pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"How do you want me, baby,?" he murmurs in his raspy morning voice that always made your stomach flip.

Your hand drifts down between your bodies, cupping his hard length through the fabric of his boxers. "Wanna ride you..."

Jungkook lets out a rough groan, eyes dark and half-lidded with desire.

"Fuck.. go on then, baby."

You lean down, kissing over his skin, trailing lower, lips brushing his stomach before you hook your fingers into his waistband and ease his boxers down. His cock springs free, already hard and leaking for you.

Straddling him, you reach between your legs, sliding your panties aside. His hungry eyes were on you the whole time, thumbs brushing gently over your thighs as you aligned yourself with him.

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down, as he fills you inch by inch. Your hands brace on his chest as you bottom out, thighs trembling.

You stay still for a moment, adjusting to the fullness. Jungkook’s hands immediately grip your hips, and another one slides up beneath your t-shirt, fingers soothing along your spine as he pulls you down into a kiss.

You start to move, slow rolls of your hips at first, grinding down on him as his head tilt back into the pillow, lips parting with a shaky breath.

You watched his lashes flutter, his jaw tense. His hands guide you, his fingers flexing on your waist as you find a rhythm, moaning softly each time he hit that spot inside you.

“That’s it, my love... just like that,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours.

You ride him for a while, your thighs burning as you moved up and down. His hands roam, guiding your movements, praising you in breathless whispers.

“So fucking good, baby...,” he groans, gripping your hips tighter.

Jungkook takes over, flips you to the side—keeping himself buried inside you, bodies still perfectly joined, when your movements falter from exhaustion.

His tattooed hand slide under your thigh, hiking it up as he settles between your legs on his side, chest pressing to yours, lips brushing your temple.

You gasp, moaning as your head falls back against the pillow, as he speeds up with harder thrusts.

“Fuck, Jungkook—” you cried out, clinging to his shoulders.

His teeth graze your jaw, breath hot against your skin. “Couldn’t wait till morning to be filled by my cock, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked with lust.

You whimper, unable to form any words.

He growls, driving into you deeper—your body jolting with each thrust. You moan louder, biting his shoulder as he slams into that spot that made your back arch and your legs tremble.

“Fuck baby... so tight... I’m—” he breathes, losing rhythm as he chases both your highs. “Let go for me.”

Your body clenches around him, eyes rolling back as you come hard with a loud moan of his name.

He follows moments later, hips stuttering, as he spills inside you.

The room falls quiet, save for your soft pants. His hand slides up your back slowly, stroking soothing.

“You did so good,” he murmurs, kissing your hair.

He pulls out gently, earning a small whimper from you, and immediately grabs the tissues from the nightstand, cleaning you up with the softest care, his fingers feather-light, as you blink up at him sleepily.

“Come here, my little brat,” he teases with a smile, pulling you into his arms.

You let out a weak laugh, pressing your face to his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and just as you were starting to drift into sleep, you hear his lazy chuckle.

You blink slowly, murmuring, “What...?”

He laughs a little more, voice fond. “You haven’t turned into a caterpillar yet.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

“Nothing” he whispers, smiling into your hair, pressing another kiss to your temple and pulls the blanket higher around you both.

---------------------------------------------------

[jungkoode]

Strings Attached (to my heart)

→ PAIRING : Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: January 20, 2025.

→ GOAL FOR PART 2: 1000 notes. ✔️ NEXT

→ SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

→ TAGS : second person perspective used, female pronouns used, college au, spider-man au, noona kink, slight age gap (he’s 21, she’s 24ish), dry humping, virgin jungkook, first time, inexperienced jk, creaming his pants, sexual content, explicit content, library smut, clothed getting off, breast play, grinding, praise kink, crying during sex, crying after sex, embarrassment kink, humiliation kink, slight dom reader x sub jungkook, size difference, pining, jungkook has a big fat crush on you, secret identity, touch starved, protective jungkook, closet sexual activities, desperate jungkook, gentle domming, aftercare, emotional intimacy, fluff and smut, Korean setting, university setting.

→ PLAYLIST: set the vibes.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

→ A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome to my first attempt at a Spidey!JK AU, where he somehow manages to be an even bigger mess than Peter Parker 😭. This story is very close to my heart because it dives into the dynamic between a confident noona and her adorably flustered freshman—who just so happens to be Seoul’s clumsy new superhero. To be honest, this Spiderkook oneshot was heavily inspired by Tangie, aka @rpwprpwprpwprw (love you bb!!!). I’d been lowkey daydreaming about Spiderkook for ages but thought, “Nah, that’s too silly.” Then I discovered there’s an entire community sharing the same brain cell as me??? Like, you’re welcome for my service, I guess?? Originally, this was supposed to be a short, smutty 5k romp. But do you think I can write smut without plot? I CAN’T. IT’S A MEDICAL CONDITION. Now it’s a 12k beast with feelings, webs, and chaos. Sorry (but not really). If you enjoy this, I might turn it into a mini-series because, let’s be honest, spider powers in… certain scenarios… sound very intriguing. Hihihi. Hope you enjoy this mess I’ve unleashed on the world! 🕸️

Edit: also, yeah. Tae is older than Jimin and Jungkook here because my sleep deprived brain slapped a ‘hyung’ on Jimin’s mouth and I’m not editing again. (≖͞_≖̥)

The thing about Spider-Man is that he reminds you too much of a certain freshman.

A freshman named Jeon Jungkook who keeps hovering around the journalism building with his messy hair and his wide eyes and his endless supply of convenience store snacks.

You've been telling yourself it's just a coincidence. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when they're flustered. It's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

Maybe that's why you're hiding in August Coffee, your usual spot tucked away in one of Sinchon's winding side streets.

The late autumn breeze carries the scent of roasted coffee beans through the open window, and your laptop screen glows with half-finished articles and interview transcripts. Your notebook lies open beside a rapidly cooling americano while the café's jazz playlist provides a gentle backdrop to your furious typing. You're on a deadline for tomorrow's paper, and the last thing you need is—

A flash of red and blue swings past the window.

You pretend not to notice. Maybe if you focus hard enough on your screen, he'll take the hint and—

"Noona!"

—of course he doesn't.

There he is, hanging upside down outside the second-floor window, the eyes of his mask wide and eager. A plastic convenience store bag dangles from his hand, swaying in the autumn wind. Several patrons are already pulling out their phones, and you can feel your carefully cultivated productivity slipping away.

"No," you say firmly, not looking up from your laptop.

"But noona—" His voice cracks on the honorific, and you absolutely refuse to find it endearing. "I haven't even said anything yet!"

"I'm working." You take a pointed sip of your americano, grimacing when you realize it's gone cold. Perfect. "Some of us have actual responsibilities, Spider-Boy."

"I brought you snacks!" He awkwardly maneuvers through the window—you're not sure if the owner keeps it open for him specifically or if he's just that persistent. "You know, the ones you like with the matcha filling? The new ones from that fancy Japanese brand?"

You pause, fingers hovering over your keyboard. "How do you know I like the ones with matcha filling?"

"Uh—" Even through the mask, you can tell he's flustered. His hands fidget with the plastic bag. "Lucky guess? Not that I know you, noona. Uh, I mean, you look like a noona. Not that I know for a fact you're a noona—"

"Stop talking." You pinch the bridge of your nose, painfully aware of the phones still recording this interaction. This will definitely end up on some university Instagram page later. Again. "You're making it worse."

He deflates slightly, shoulders hunching in that familiar way that reminds you too much of a certain someone who keeps "accidentally" running into you at the journalism building. The same one who somehow always knows your coffee order and brings you snacks you oh so casually mention fancying—

No. You're not going there. You're not connecting those dots, because connecting those dots leads to complications you absolutely don't need in your final year.

"I can leave if you want," he offers, but he's already approaching, placing the snacks on your table with careful precision. "But you've been here for four hours, and you always forget to eat when you're working on a big story."

You stare at him. "How do you know how long I've been here?"

"I, uh—" His mask's eyes widen comically. "Spider-sense?"

"That's not how spider-sense works."

"You don't know how my spider-sense works! Maybe it's... hungry-noona-sense?"

A laugh escapes before you can stop it, and you quickly cover it with a cough. "That's the worst excuse you've come up with yet."

"Yet!" He perks up. "So you're keeping track?"

"Go away." You open the snack bag anyway, pretending not to notice how he straightens up eagerly when you do. "Don't you have a city to protect or something?"

"Seoul can handle itself for ten minutes while I make sure my favorite n—while I make sure hardworking journalists eat properly."

You raise an eyebrow at the slip, and he fidgets under your gaze. "Your favorite what?"

"Nothing! No one! Just, you know, doing my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man duties. Very friendly. Very neighborly. Nothing specific or personal about it at all."

You bite into one of the matcha-filled snacks—they're fresh, which means he must have bought them recently. Specifically for you. Just like how a certain freshman keeps bringing you fresh triangle kimbap from the convenience store near your morning lecture hall...

No. Stop it. You're not doing this.

"Sit down," you sigh, pushing the chair across from you out with your foot. "And stay quiet, or I’ll kick you out."

He practically collapses into the chair, bag already placed on the table. You notice his hands shaking slightly, and something in your chest tightens.

You shouldn't find it endearing. You really, really shouldn't.

But then again, you probably shouldn't find anything about this situation endearing — a masked vigilante bringing you sweets in the middle of your favorite cafe, stammering through excuses that sound exactly like the ones Jungkook uses when you catch him "accidentally" walking the same way as you after class.

You really need to stop noticing these things.

You try to refocus on your notes after that, but it's hard—mostly because Spider-Man is still sitting there. Quietly. Staring.

And not in a "just glancing around the cafe" kind of way, either. No, he's full-on watching you, eyes darting between the scribbles in your notebook, the crumbs on your plate, and, worst of all, your face. Like you're the most fascinating thing in the world. Like he's never seen someone drink a mediocre americano and type furiously into Google Docs before.

It goes on for five minutes. Five full, agonizing minutes of silence, punctuated only by the occasional click of your keyboard and the muted sounds of espresso machines in the background.

Finally, you sigh, your fingers pausing mid-typing. "Don't you have better stuff to do?"

"No." The response is immediate. Too immediate. His tone is absurdly casual, like the very idea that Spider-Man—the literal defender of Seoul—could have anything more important than sitting in August Coffee and bothering you is completely ridiculous.

You raise a brow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No supervillains to fight? No cats stuck in trees? Nothing?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "Pretty quiet day."

You shake your head and turn your attention back to your laptop. "Must be nice."

There's a pause. You can feel him shifting in his seat, the chair creaking slightly under his weight, and when he speaks again, his voice is just shy of hesitant.

"How are the pastries? Do you like them?"

Your fingers freeze over your keyboard. Slowly, you turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes.

"You didn't spit in them, did you?"

"Wha—no!" he sputters, his whole posture stiffening in obvious horror. "Why—why would I—noona, I would never spit in your pastries!"

You let him sweat for a second longer, just to amuse yourself, before breaking into a small, satisfied smirk.

"Relax, Spider-Boy. I'm kidding." You reach for the bag of snacks he brought. "Yeah, they're good. Wanna try?"

His eyes widen a little—well, as much as they can through that mask—and he seems to hesitate, like he's not sure if you're serious or trying to bait him again. You wave one of the pastries in his direction. He glances at it, then back at you, before finally nodding.

"Okay. Yeah, sure."

You watch as he carefully rolls his mask up just to his nose, revealing his mouth for the first time. You don't know what you expected, but… it's a good mouth. Maybe annoyingly good, given how little you want to admit that very obvious fact to yourself. Full lips, slightly pink, with just the faintest hint of nervousness as he bites at his bottom lip before leaning forward.

He takes a bite of the pastry you're holding out to him, and the pleased groan he lets out immediately makes you regret offering him anything at all.

"God, that's delicious," he mumbles around his mouthful, crumbs falling onto his suit. He barely finishes chewing before continuing. "Now I know why you like them so much. I mean—why people say they're so good. Not you specifically. Just, you know, people."

You snort, shaking your head as you turn back to your laptop. "You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible bossy noona," he mutters, mostly to himself, stuffing the rest of the pastry into his mouth before leaning back in his chair.

You're about to toss another sarcastic remark his way when something catches your eye. Or, more specifically, half of something. A small smudge of green—matcha filling, you realize—lingering on the corner of his mouth.

It's instinctive, the way your hand moves—completely unthinking, like muscle memory kicking in before your brain has a chance to catch up. One moment, you're perfectly stationary in your seat; the next, your thumb is brushing against his lip, swiping the smudge away with a gentle, practiced motion.

He startles at the touch, his whole body jerking slightly as his eyes snap to yours. And then, just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your hand freezes midair.

His mouth parts for half a second, like he's about to say something, but then his tongue darts out—slow, deliberate—to lick the exact spot your thumb had just brushed.

You snatch your hand back like you've been burned, your face heating despite yourself.

The silence that follows is awful. Deafening. Inescapable.

He shifts in his chair, his eyes flickering to the table, then back to you, then down again. He clears his throat—once, then twice—before adjusting the edge of his suit with what you can only describe as frantic energy.

"So… uh…" His voice is tight. Way tighter than usual, cracking slightly on the first syllable. "Thanks for that. The, uh. The whole… lip thing. That was. Uh. Cool."

You blink at him, deadpan. "Cool?"

"Yeah. Cool. Totally normal and cool. Happens all the time. Super casual."

If you weren't so flustered yourself, you'd have laughed at the way he's fidgeting in his seat, his hands gripping his thighs under the table like he's trying not to explode.

"Right," you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. "Casual."

"Exactly."

He nods a little too enthusiastically, and you notice his knees bumping against each other under the table before he quickly crosses his legs. His hands drop to his lap almost immediately after, like he's trying to adjust the spandex near his thighs.

Your gaze is momentarily drawn there before—

"Anyway!" The word comes out nearly an octave higher than it should. He's already standing—or, more accurately, bolting to his feet—his hands still awkwardly hovering in front of him. "I should, uh, get going! Supervillains don't wait, you know? Gotta, uh… save the people of Seoul. Yeah. Big hero stuff."

You stare at him, unblinking, as he starts inching toward the door. "Uh-huh."

"Thanks for the pastries, noona! Great talk, as always!" He clears his throat again, audibly struggling to keep his voice steady. "Okay! Bye!"

And then he's gone, practically sprinting out of the cafe before he can embarrass himself any further.

You sit there for a long moment, still frozen, your brain catching up to what just happened. Then, slowly, you reach for another pastry.

Whatever just happened? Definitely not your problem.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

Jungkook's voice is muffled by his hands, currently covering his face in what can only be described as unrelenting shame. He's lying on Jimin's couch, legs splayed out haphazardly, the picture of a man defeated by his own existence.

Across the room, Jimin raises an eyebrow, lazily popping another chip into his mouth. The bag crinkles loudly, much to Jungkook's dismay. "It's not that bad, Kooks. She probably didn't even notice."

Jungkook groans, dragging his hands down his face until his eyes peek out dramatically between his fingers. "She 100% noticed. It was—like—a five-minute interaction. FIVE minutes, and I made it weird. Now she's gonna think I'm a fucking weirdo and a creep."

Jimin doesn't even try to hide the snort that escapes him, his expression somewhere between entertained and unimpressed. "Yeah, because stalking her as Spider-Man didn't have her thinking that already."

Jungkook bolts upright on the couch, eyes wide with panic. "She told you that?!"

Jimin chokes on his chip, wheezing as he waves his hand for Jungkook to calm down. "No! Shit, man, calm down. I'm just saying. Like, I guess? I mean, you do kind of… hover. A lot."

"I don't hover," Jungkook protests, indignant. But even as the words leave his mouth, he hesitates. "Do I hover?"

Jimin gives him a look.

Jungkook groans again, flopping back onto the couch like his limbs have given up on life. "Oh my god, you're right. I hover. I'm that guy. And now it's worse because who the fuck pops a boner from someone—" He pauses, embarrassingly aware of the words about to leave his mouth. "—touching their lip? What is wrong with me? I must be insane. She must think I'm insane."

Jimin, now thoroughly entertained, leans back in his chair with his bag of chips, one leg crossed over the other. "I mean... it's not great," he says unhelpfully, though there's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jungkook lets out a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and buries his face back into his hands. "She's never gonna look at me the same. I probably freaked her out. GOD, she's gonna think I'm some kind of pervert. Or—worse—she's gonna avoid me completely now. And then I'll never see her again. And then—"

"Okay, okay," Jimin interrupts, holding up a hand to stop whatever spiral Jungkook's about to drag them into. "First of all, she offered to share her snack with you, so I don't think she's avoiding you anytime soon."

"But that was BEFORE—"

"Second of all," Jimin continues loudly, ignoring Jungkook's interjection, "maybe just... stop calling her 'noona' every chance you get? It's not helping your case."

Jungkook frowns, peeking out from behind his fingers again. "What's wrong with calling her noona? That's respectful!"

"Yeah, but it's also kinda... you know," Jimin winces, waving a hand vaguely. "Weird, coming from you. Like, you're already bumbling around her like a lost golden retriever. Adding 'noona' into the mix just makes you look—what's the word?"

"Adorable?" Jungkook tries hopefully.

"Pathetic," Jimin finishes, deadpan.

Jungkook groans for what feels like the millionth time, throwing his head against the couch cushion. "Why do I even talk to you? You're supposed to make me feel better, hyung. Not worse."

"Hey, I'm here for the truth," Jimin says, pointing at him with a chip in hand. "You want a cheerleader, go call Taehyung."

"Taehyung's just gonna laugh at me," Jungkook mutters into the cushion.

"And yet, you're shocked I'm doing it too."

Jungkook mumbles something unintelligible, his face half-smashed into the cushion now as he replays every excruciating detail of his interaction with you earlier. The way your thumb had brushed his lip. The way he'd immediately been unable to control the—well, reaction. The way he'd panicked like an idiot, stammered something incomprehensible, and practically bolted out of the cafe without even finishing his sentence.

"Kill me," he says dramatically, still face-down in the cushion. "Just end me. I can't show my face again."

Jimin laughs, leaning forward to pat Jungkook's shoulder in a way that's more mocking than comforting. "Relax, man. You'll survive. Just... maybe keep your hormones in check next time, yeah?"

Jungkook flips him off blindly, his hand waving somewhere above his head.

"Love you too, Spider-Menace," Jimin quips, taking another chip like this is the best entertainment he's had all week.

The crunching sound of Jimin biting into another chip is loud enough to make Jungkook groan into the couch again. "Do you ever stop eating?" Jungkook mutters, his voice muffled by the cushion.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, unbothered, and is about to throw a smartass reply back when his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at the screen, sees Taehyung's name, and shrugs, casually placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he picks up without pausing his snacking.

"What's up?" Jimin hums lazily, chips still in hand, completely ignoring Jungkook's existential crisis unfolding just feet away from him.

Jungkook's ears perk up despite himself—because why else would Taehyung be calling Jimin right now? He lifts his head just enough to peek over the cushion, his hair mussed and sticking up in odd directions.

Jimin's expression doesn't change at first, eyes still fixated on the bag of chips in his lap as he listens. "Yeah, he's with me," he says vaguely, gesturing aimlessly toward Jungkook, who frowns at being referred to like some stray dog Jimin found.

But then Jimin freezes. His chewing slows. His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline as Taehyung says something that causes him to do a violent double take at Jungkook.

"What?" Jimin coughs, choking on the chip he was mid-swallow. He pounds his chest a little before leaning forward sharply. "He—what? What, what, what—? Tae, calm down—!"

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks, sitting up now, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at Jimin's sudden change in tone.

Jimin waves him off with a quick flick of his hand, signaling for him to shut up. "No, yeah. Yeah, no, I know," Jimin mumbles into the phone, his tone getting increasingly more exasperated as he listens. "Tae—okay? Can you just—okay?"

"What's wrong??" Jungkook asks again, panic creeping into his voice. He hates not knowing what's going on, especially when Jimin looks... concerned? Flustered? Whatever it is, it's not good.

Jimin twists his head toward Jungkook, eyes narrowing as he motions aggressively with his entire head for Jungkook to shut the hell up.

"Okay, let me— what? You wanna talk to him?" Jimin repeats, his voice pitching higher in disbelief. "Oh, now you wanna talk to him? Fine! Okay, okay, okay, here."

Before Jungkook can process what's happening, Jimin is all but shoving his phone into Jungkook's hands, plunking the bag of chips onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

"Take it," Jimin mutters, irritation bleeding into his tone.

"Wait, why do I have to—"

"Take it," Jimin repeats, louder this time, his hand already retreating as he grabs another chip to munch on, clearly done with whatever chaos Taehyung just unloaded on him.

Jungkook swallows nervously, holding the phone to his ear as Taehyung's voice immediately fills it in a panicked rush.

"Jungkook! Oh my god, dude, you're not gonna believe this—" Taehyung starts, and Jungkook feels his entire stomach plummet before Taehyung can even finish his sentence.

"Believe what?" Jungkook half-yells into the phone, his voice cracking just slightly at the end, betraying the anxiety bubbling under his skin.

"Don't freak out," Taehyung begins, which, of course, makes Jungkook's blood pressure shoot straight through the roof. His knuckles grip Jimin's phone tightly, and he shares a panicked look with Jimin, who's now leaning against the coffee table with a chip halfway to his mouth, watching the scene unfold like it's prime-time drama.

"I'm already freaking out, hyung! Just tell me!" Jungkook demands, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"Okay, so," Taehyung starts again, and Jungkook can hear the smirk in his voice, which immediately makes him want to fling the phone out the window. "You know Y/N, yeah?"

"Do I—what do you mean, 'do I know Y/N'?! Of course I know—just get to the point!" Jungkook's frustration is mounting by the second. He's wound so tight he feels like a single flick might send him spiraling.

"Okay, Mr. Touchy," Taehyung says innocently, and Jungkook can practically see him holding back a laugh wherever he is. "So, uh… apparently, she's been asking questions."

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. His heart lurches in a way that makes his hands clammy against the phone. "Questions?" he repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Taehyung continues, tone far too blasé for Jungkook's liking. "You know, like... about Spider-Man."

Jungkook swears his brain short-circuits. For a second, all he hears is static, like every neuron in his head has collectively stopped firing.

"...What kind of questions?" he asks quietly, his voice taking on an edge that immediately grabs Jimin's attention.

"Oh, you know." Taehyung's voice is light, purposefully teasing. "Like, how he seems to always show up when she's around, or how he just happens to bring her favorite snacks, or—oh, this one's my favorite—how his voice cracks exactly like a certain freshman she knows at Yonsei."

Jungkook's knees buckle, and he collapses back onto the couch like his strings have been cut. Jimin is now openly laughing, clutching his stomach with one hand while pointing at Jungkook with the other.

"She—oh my god," Jungkook mutters into the phone, his free hand running through his hair in frantic tugs. "She knows. She knows, doesn't she? I'm so fucked."

"Hey, hey, calm down!" Taehyung says hurriedly, though his voice is still laced with amusement. "She doesn't know know. I mean, I don't think so. She's not like, accusing you or anything. Just... putting pieces together. Y'know, connecting dots."

"Connecting dots?!" Jungkook hisses, his chest tightening as his worst nightmare begins to unfold in real time. "Do you have any idea how many dots there ARE, hyung?! I'm like a walking... dot-factory!"

Jimin absolutely loses it, doubling over in laughter as crumbs from his chips scatter across the floor.

"Okay, Kook, you need to calm down," Taehyung says, though his tone suggests he's also suppressing a laugh. "She's just curious, that's all. You know how Y/N is. She's a journalist. She's always sniffing around for a good story, right?"

"She doesn't need THIS story!" Jungkook yells, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. "Oh my god, what if she writes about it? What if she—what if it ENDS UP IN THE SCHOOL PAPER?!"

"Relax, relax, relax," Taehyung says in quick succession, his voice almost soothing now. "She's not gonna write about it. I don't think she'd do that to you... unless, you know, you give her a reason to."

Jungkook groans, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands again. "I'm so dead. She's gonna out me. My life is over. My life is literally over."

"Hyung," Jimin finally pipes up, gasping for air as he wipes away a tear from laughing too hard. "Tell him to just confess already. At this rate, she'll figure it out before he ever grows the balls to tell her himself."

"Confess?" Jungkook sputters, jerking his head up to glare at Jimin. "Are you insane?! You want me to walk up to her and go, 'Hey, Y/N, funny thing—remember how you thought I was stalking you? Well, surprise! I was, but it's okay because I'm Spider-Man!' That's your plan?!"

Jimin shrugs, smirking as he tosses a chip into his mouth. "Worked for Andrew Garfield."

"THIS IS NOT A MOVIE!"

Taehyung's laugh echoes through the phone, loud and clear. "Oh man, I wish I was there to see this meltdown in person. Seriously, Kook, stop freaking out. Just... play it cool, okay? She doesn't know anything for sure. Yet."

"Yet?!" Jungkook exclaims, horror-struck.

"Gotta go!" Taehyung says way too quickly, the call disconnecting before Jungkook can yell at him further.

Jungkook stares at the phone in disbelief, his chest heaving as Jimin's smug laughter reverberates in the background.

"Cool," Jimin repeats mockingly, curving his lips. "Yeah, Kook, just play it cool. You're so good at that."

Jungkook groans, tossing the phone onto the couch and collapsing after it. "I need new friends."

"You love us," Jimin chirps, reaching for another chip.

Jungkook screams into the pillow.

You were expecting something, anything, really. A subtle slip-up. A sheepish confession. Hell, maybe even some stammering and nervous sweating.

But the moment you confronted Taehyung—cornered him, really, by the vending machine in the student lounge—and the words "Do you know if Jungkook's Spider-Man?" left your mouth, all he did was cackle. Loudly. Mockingly. Like a full-on villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.

"Spider-Man?" he wheezed, doubling over and clutching his stomach like you'd just told him the funniest joke in existence. "Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook? Noona, you're joking, right?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by how visceral his reaction was. "No. I'm not joking," you said stiffly, crossing your arms. "What's so funny about it?"

Taehyung straightened up, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye as he glanced at you with barely contained amusement. "Do you know Jungkook? Like, know him? Because that kid has two left feet. I've literally seen him trip over air. How would he even swing that gracefully?"

For a brief, fleeting moment, you felt the smallest hitch in your resolve. Because, well, the evidence did kind of contradict itself, didn't it? Jungkook is clumsy sometimes. That much is true. You've seen him knock over a whole stack of textbooks just trying to nod hello at you in the hallway. He once walked into a doorframe because he was too busy staring at his phone.

Spider-Man, by comparison, is supposed to be graceful. Quick. Precise. Not... whatever it is Jungkook embodies most of the time.

But then you think about the stupid coffee shop incident. The way Spider-Man stammered and fidgeted and tripped over his words like a nervous wreck. The way he dropped his entire cool superhero persona when he handed you those damn matcha pastries. He wasn't exactly graceful then, was he?

And okay, let's talk about those pastries for a second. Because the more you think about them, the more your brain starts spinning. You distinctly remember mentioning them once—to Eunjae, over lunch in the cafeteria, weeks ago. How the hell would Spider-Man know about them if he wasn't there to overhear?

You frown, chewing on the inside of your cheek as the pieces start stacking themselves again in your head. Jungkook might be clumsy, sure. But Spider-Man was clumsy too. At least, that day he was. And the matcha pastries aren't just a coincidence. They can't be.

Your inner spiral is abruptly interrupted by a bright, familiar voice calling out behind you.

"Noona!"

You whirl around at the sound like a guilty kid caught stealing candy, heart practically leaping into your throat because you know that voice anywhere. And there he is, the devil himself—Jeon Jungkook, all floppy hair and dumbly wide grin, bounding toward you like an overexcited golden retriever.

He sidesteps a couple of students in his path, his long legs moving with just a little too much energy. Honestly, it's a miracle he doesn't trip.

"I brought you these!" he announces, holding up a plastic bag like it's some kind of trophy. His grin stretches so wide it practically touches his ears, and you hate that your first thought is how stupidly adorable he looks.

Stupid, you think, swiping the bag from his hand. Not adorable. Definitely not adorable. You're sure of it.

Peeking inside, your brows furrow. "Hotteok?"

Jungkook presses his lips together, humming as he nods eagerly. "Yeah! You—" His smile falters just a touch. "You don't like it?"

The way his face drops shouldn't make you feel so guilty, but it does, and it's annoying. "No, uh, I mean…" You struggle for the right words, because… hotteok? Really? You'd been expecting the matcha pastries again. This feels almost purposeful—like he's playing dumb. Is he? Or is this proof that you've been completely off base this whole time?

You're overthinking again. Shaking your head, you wave off the thought entirely. "Yeah, thank you, Jungkook-ah," you mutter, tone softer than you mean it to be.

The banmal slips out without much thought, but the effect it has is immediate. His eyes go wide, and then his whole face lights up in the kind of beam that makes you want to smack yourself for fueling his enthusiasm.

"This is the first time you dropped honorifics with me," he says, looking downright gleeful.

You clench the bag a little tighter and wish you could hate him. Why is he so excited over something so small? Why does it make your chest feel weirdly tight? And why is it so hard to stay annoyed at him when he looks at you like that?

God, this kid.

"Don't get used to it," you mutter gruffly, turning away before the growing warmth in your cheeks betrays you completely.

"So," he begins, falling into step beside you as you start walking toward the journalism building. "What are your plans for today?"

You don't respond. Not out of spite or anything—you're just not in the mood to entertain whatever puppy-dog energy he's radiating right now.

"Writing notes?" he prompts, glancing sideways at you, his tone just a little too hopeful for your liking.

Still, you say nothing.

"Coffee?"

Nope.

"Gonna catch leads for Spider-Man's identity?"

That one makes you stop dead in your tracks. You whirl around so fast he nearly collides with you, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. "Huh?"

His eyes widen marginally, mouth opening and closing like he's trying to come up with a quick excuse. "Taehyung told me!" he blurts, the words tumbling out in a rush.

For a second, you just stare at him, blinking once, then twice. "Huh," you reply, eyebrows quirking upward.

"Yeah!" he adds, voice pitching slightly higher, probably in an effort to sound casual. "He said you were, uh, investigating? Like, Spider-Man and all that? You know, trying to figure out who he is?"

Your head tilts as you study him, arms crossing instinctively. "Did he now?"

"Uh-huh," he nods enthusiastically, though the way his hand rubs at the back of his neck gives him away almost immediately. "I mean, not that I think that's, like, bad or anything? It's cool! Totally cool! I mean, you're a journalist, so, like, it's your job, right? Investigating stuff and—"

"Jungkook."

He freezes, looking way too much like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"Why," you ask, narrowing your eyes just slightly, "do you sound like you're trying to convince me not to?"

"I-I'm not! I'm not," he stammers, waving his hands frantically. "I was just, you know, saying! Like, uh, if anyone were trying to find his identity, it'd definitely be you because, uh… you're smart? And observant? And not at all easy to fool?"

Your brow arches higher, his stream of nervous compliments only fueling the suspicion building in your chest.

"Right," you say slowly, dragging out the word as you step closer, watching the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously when your gaze meets his. "So hypothetically…"

"H-Hypothetically," he squeaks, leaning back like he's mentally bracing himself for whatever's coming next.

"If I was trying to find out who Spider-Man is," you continue, voice calm and steady, "you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, now would you?"

The way he freezes, body rigid and eyes darting everywhere but at you, would be funny if it weren't so telling. The sheer panic written all over his face is practically criminal.

"I—uh—no? N-No. Definitely not," he stammers, the pitch of his voice betraying him entirely. "W-Why would I have anything to do with that? I'm just a freshman! I don't even know Spider-Man! I mean, who even is Spider-Man? Could be anyone, right? Crazy world we live in, haha…"

You take a moment to just stare at him, fighting the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might actually get stuck. "Right," you deadpan, turning on your heel to start walking again.

Jungkook exhales audibly behind you, feet scrambling to catch up. "Y-Yeah, right! That's what I thought too!" he says quickly, clearly desperate to steer the conversation in another direction. "Anyway, uh, where were we? Oh! Notes! Are you writing notes today, noona?"

You don't respond. Again. Mostly because you're too busy replaying his very suspicious reaction over and over in your head like a mental highlight reel.

Yeah… no way this kid isn't up to something.

You keep walking, your steps steady, purposeful. Jungkook, as always, trots along beside you like he's afraid you might disappear if he doesn't keep up. And unlike you, who values peace and quiet, Jungkook doesn't seem to understand the concept of shutting up.

"So, like, I was thinking," he starts, voice bright and eager. "If Spider-Man's around all the time, do you think he lives nearby? Like, maybe he's a uni student? Or—or maybe he's secretly a professor? Oh my god, imagine Professor Kim as Spider-Man—he'd probably web someone for being late to class, right? Oh, oh, or he'd use his powers to booby-trap the lecture hall if we don't submit our midterms on time! Haha—what do you think, noona?"

You don't answer.

"And have you noticed he wears, like, the same colors as Yonsei's? Like, blue and red? Do you think that's on purpose? Maybe he's trying to rep the school spirit! Or maybe he's trying to throw us off! Who knows, right? I mean, what's your theory? You must have a theory—you're always so smart about these things—"

"Jungkook," you interject, your voice flat as you stop abruptly in your tracks. He almost trips trying to halt beside you, blinking wide-eyed like he didn't expect you to actually respond.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you have class?" You ask, turning your head just enough for him to see the pointed look you're giving him.

He licks his lips, and you know he's about to lie before the words even leave his mouth. "No?"

"Liar," you deadpan, already turning back to face forward.

"You know my schedule?" he shoots back, voice teasing as he trails after you again.

You roll your eyes but don't give him the satisfaction of a retort. If you respond, he'll just milk it—probably tease you further, or worse, distract you with another string of nonsense questions about Spider-Man. No, you're better off ignoring him.

So, you keep walking. He keeps rambling.

And then—

The sound of a bus engine roaring down the street takes you off guard. You don't even register the rush of movement until it's too late.

Suddenly, there's a firm pressure against your shoulders, and you're stumbling—but not forward, no—backward. Stumbling directly into Jungkook's chest, his arms bracketing your body like they're the only thing stopping you from tumbling straight into the pavement.

Your breath catches, your heart pounding against your ribs. You freeze, blinking up at him in shock. "What the—"

He's close. Too close. His face hovers just inches from yours, his expression wide-eyed and… strained.

"Are you okay?" he blurts, his voice laced with breathless concern like he's just sprinted a marathon.

You don't answer. You can't answer. Because all you can think about is how the hell he even managed to grab you like that.

He was five meters away. Five meters away, Jungkook. There's no way he could've—

"What the fuck," you murmur under your breath, your mind racing a mile a minute as you shove yourself upright, still staring at him like he's grown a second head. "How—when—how the fuck did you just—"

"It was nothing!" he rushes out, cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. His voice cracks, and he's already letting go of you, stepping back like he's afraid of the scrutiny in your eyes. "I-I mean, reflexes? Adrenaline? Fight or flight? Haha…"

You narrow your eyes, suspicious once again. "…Right."

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. "Yeah, uh… it's all good. You're fine, right? Totally fine! So, uh… should we—keep walking? Yep, let's keep walking!"

He starts to turn away again, clearly desperate to move on, but you don't budge. You're too busy trying to piece together what just happened, trying to figure out how Jungkook keeps doing things that defy all logic and common sense.

And that's when it hits you.

Spider-Man. Fast reflexes. The ability to move like that without warning. You glance down at his feet, planted firmly on the ground, and then back up at his sheepish grin.

No fucking way.

"I'm leaving."

"No—come on, Tae, you promised!" Jungkook whines, clutching at Taehyung's shoulder like a child trying to stop his older sibling from walking out the door.

Taehyung stops mid-stride, turning to glare at him with an expression that's this close to murderous. "I promised you I'd study with you at the library," he hisses. "Not that we'd come here so you can sit there and drool all over her."

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide. "I—what?!"

"You heard me," Taehyung deadpans, shoving Jungkook's hand off his shoulder.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Jungkook mumbles, feigning innocence as he suddenly averts his gaze.

Taehyung rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't get stuck. "Kook, you've been staring at her table since we walked in. Don't even try to deny it."

"I—have not!" Jungkook protests, voice pitching just slightly higher than normal. His head jerks around, and of course his eyes instinctively flicker to your table. The one three meters to the left. The one where you're currently sitting, completely engrossed in your notes, pencil moving methodically across the page like it's the only thing that matters in the world.

You're breathtaking. Ethereal. Like a beam of light in the dull, dusty gloom of the library.

And honestly, Jungkook's not even sure why he's into you. Okay, maybe he's a little sure. Or a lot. But that's not the point—the point is—he is definitely not staring. Not staring, not drooling. Definitely.

"You're doing it right now, man," Taehyung mutters, arms crossed.

"I'm not!"

"You are."

"I'm not! It's just—" Jungkook swallows, gesturing vaguely in your direction. "I was just… checking out the table. It's a nice table! Good wood quality, sturdy legs. The craftsmanship is—"

"Good wood quality?" Taehyung repeats, staring at him like he's lost his mind.

Jungkook groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine! Okay! Maybe I glanced at her for a second. It's not a crime, hyung!"

Taehyung lets out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's already regretting his life choices. "I am so done with you," he mutters. But even as the words leave his mouth, he walks toward one of the tables anyway and plops his bag down into one of the vacant chairs.

"Sit," he grumbles, motioning vaguely to the chair across from him. "And don't make me regret this."

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice. He practically trips over himself as he sits, trying to act cool and not-at-all-focused on the fact that you're sitting so close. So close that he can see the faint furrow in your brow as you concentrate, or the way you absentmindedly tap the end of your pencil against your notebook.

He's not staring. Definitely not staring. Probably.

"You're staring again," Taehyung says flatly, not even bothering to look up from his own notes.

"No, I'm not!" Jungkook hisses, slouching lower in his chair.

Taehyung snorts. "Okay, Mr. 'Good Wood Quality.' Sure."

Jungkook tries. He really does. He's here to study—or at least, he's here to pretend to study—and he's determined to do something productive. Something library-like. Something that doesn't involve spending the entire time sneaking glances at you like some lovesick idiot.

So, step one: grab a book. Easy. People in libraries read books, right? He can do that. Simple.

He meanders through the shelves, grabbing the first book that catches his eye. He doesn't even check the title. Doesn't matter. A book's a book.

Step two: sit down. Done. Chair, occupied. Book, open.

Step three: look at the book like he's actually reading it.

He squints at the text, hoping his brain will absorb something through sheer willpower because god knows his mind sure as hell isn't cooperating right now. Every five seconds, it drifts back to the table three meters away, where you're still sitting, still taking notes, still looking unfairly... breathtaking.

"Jungkook," Taehyung mutters, his voice barely above a grumble as he glances up from his own book. "Why the fuck are you reading that?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks, startled, then looks down at the book in his hands for the first time.

Advanced Theoretical Physics.

Oh.

"You don't even study physics," Taehyung points out flatly, his tone dripping with judgment.

Jungkook flushes, slamming the book shut and fumbling to shove it under the table. "I—uh—thought it looked interesting."

Taehyung stares at him. "Sure you did."

Before Jungkook can come up with anything to salvage what's left of his dignity, you—of all people—decide to stand up, and all the air in Jungkook's lungs promptly decides to leave with you.

Oh, god. You're moving. Why are you moving? Where are you going? Should he say something? Should he act casual? Should he—

You shift slightly, gathering your things, and suddenly Jungkook's heart is doing this weird thing where it's racing and stuttering and flipping over itself, and now his body is moving before his brain can even think to stop it.

"Gotta go," he blurts, practically tripping over his chair as he bolts to his feet. "To the bathroom. I have to—pee. Yeah, really super really need to pee right now. See you in a bit!"

Taehyung looks up, stunned, as Jungkook all but sprints toward the library exit. "What the—wait—"

But Jungkook's already halfway across the library, muttering curses under his breath as he tries not to make it obvious that he's absolutely not going to the bathroom.

Taehyung sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before muttering to himself, "He's gonna get us banned from this place, isn't he?"

Jungkook's halfway to the library exit, heart pounding, when he realizes something odd.

You're not heading to the exit.

You're not even walking toward the bathroom.

He skids to a stop, trying very hard to play it cool, to act like he's not absolutely clocking your every move. His hands find their way into his hoodie pocket as he leans against the nearest bookshelf, pretending to scan the titles like he's not also sneaking glances at you over his shoulder.

Okay, so you're not leaving. That's fine. Totally normal. You're just… heading deeper into the library. Toward some distant corner, weaving past tables and shelves like you've got some secret mission.

And Jungkook? Jungkook is absolutely not a stalker. He's not. He's just curious. That's it. Normal behavior. Normal library behavior for a normal freshman.

Totally not unhinged.

But then you disappear behind a bookshelf, and his feet are moving before his brain can step on the brakes.

He follows, not too fast—just casual-like. Normal person stuff. Nothing suspicious. His eyes dart between shelves as he tries to spot where you went, his stomach doing this weird twisty thing that's part nerves, part excitement, part oh-god-why-am-I-like-this anxiety.

And just when he thinks he's catching up, just when he rounds the corner of yet another shelf and is about to spot you—

Yank.

Jungkook barely has time to register what's happening before soft hands grab him by the hoodie and pull him into a small, cramped room. His back bumps into something solid—he thinks it's the door—and suddenly you're standing right there, close enough that he can see every detail of your face, from the faint line of concentration on your forehead to the subtle curl of your lips as you exhale sharply.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

"You," you exhale, your voice sharp but quiet. "Have some explaining to do, young mister."

Jungkook's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His brain is short-circuiting, sparking like a broken circuit board, because—how? Why? When? What?

"I—uh—I—what?" he stammers, blinking rapidly as his eyes dart around the tiny supply closet you've dragged him into. It's all brooms and cleaning supplies and the faint smell of lemon disinfectant, and holy fuck, it is too small in here. You're too close.

"Don't play dumb," you mutter, arms crossing as you lean back just slightly—not enough to give him actual breathing room, but enough to make him feel like he's being scrutinized under a microscope. "You've been acting… weird."

"Weird?" He squeaks, his voice cracking embarrassingly. "Me? Weird? No, I'm not weird! I'm—uh—normal! Super normal! The most normal person ever!"

Your brow arches, the skepticism written all over your face making his knees weak. "Normal people don't act like they've got something to hide," you reply evenly.

"I don't have anything to hide!" he says way too quickly, voice pitching high again.

You don't look convinced. Not one bit.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry as he tries to come up with an excuse, a cover, a way to escape both this tiny-ass room and the weight of your accusing gaze.

But all he can think about is how close you are. How your voice sounds louder in this little space. How your shampoo smells faintly like citrus. How utterly and completely trapped he feels—not just against the door, but under the intensity of your stare.

And he's so screwed. So screwed.

"The bus thing," you say, and Jungkook feels his entire soul leave his body for approximately three seconds before crash-landing right back into his chest with a painful thud.

"What bus thing?" he asks, trying for innocent confusion, but his voice comes out more like a strangled whisper. "There are lots of bus things. Buses are everywhere. Seoul's public transport system is very efficient and—"

"Three days ago," you cut him off, eyes narrowing. "When I almost got hit."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

The memory hits him like a freight train. Three days ago. That stupid bus driver who didn't see you crossing. The way his heart had stopped dead in his chest when he realized you were about to—and he'd just—without thinking—

He'd used his webs.

On you.

In broad daylight.

As Jungkook.

Not Spider-Man.

Just... regular freshman Jeon Jungkook, who definitely shouldn't have access to web-shooters or superhuman reflexes or the ability to yank someone out of harm's way from five meters away.

"I don't—" he starts, but his mouth is dry, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. "That was just—"

"Just what?" you press, leaning closer. "Just adrenaline? Just reflexes? Just another totally normal thing that totally normal freshmen do?"

"Yes?" he squeaks, pressing himself further against the shelf on his back like he might somehow phase through it if he tries hard enough.

Your eyes narrow further. "Really."

"Really!" He nods frantically. "I mean, haven't you heard those stories? About moms lifting cars off their kids? Same thing! Totally the same thing. Chemistry major stuff. Very scientific. Fight or flight response. Cortisol. Adrenaline. Biology... things."

"You're not a chemistry major."

"I could be!"

"You're in communications."

"...Minor in chemistry?"

You stare at him for a long moment, and Jungkook swears he can feel sweat beginning to bead at the back of his neck. This closet is too small. The air is too thick. You're too close, and your eyes are too sharp, and oh god, he's really messed up this time hasn't he?

"Jungkook," you say, voice low and steady. "How exactly did you pull me away from that bus?"

"I... ran really fast?"

"You were five meters away."

"I'm... very athletic?"

"Five meters, Jungkook."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Would you believe me if I said I've been working out?"

The look you give him could probably melt steel. "Try again."

"Yoga?"

"Jungkook."

"Pilates?"

You lean even closer, if that's possible, and Jungkook's pretty sure his heart is about to explode right out of his chest. "One more chance," you murmur. "Tell me the truth."

And god, he wants to. He really, really wants to. Because you're right there, looking at him with those eyes that see right through him, and he's tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of—

"I just..." he starts, voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't let you get hurt."

Your expression softens, just slightly, but your gaze remains unwavering. "How did you do it?"

"I—"

Just as Jungkook's about to bolt, there's a distinct click that makes both of you freeze.

"What the—?" You whirl around, pushing past him to grab the handle. It doesn't budge. You try again, yanking harder this time. Nothing.

"You must be fucking kidding me," you mutter under your breath, jiggling the handle with increasing frustration.

And that's when Jungkook realizes several things at once:

1. Someone's locked you two in.

2. The closet is tiny.

3. You're pressed up against him trying to open the door.

4. Your ass is—

Oh god.

Oh god.

This cannot be happening. Not again. Not after the coffee shop incident. Not after he literally had to swing away to deal with his... situation.

"Fuck," he breathes, trying to press himself further into the piece of furniture behind him, but there's nowhere to go. The shelves dig into his back as he attempts to create even an inch of space between your bodies.

His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, not daring to touch you, not daring to move. His breath catches in his throat as you shift again, still wrestling with the door handle, completely oblivious to the way each movement sends sparks of electricity through his entire body.

"Hey!" you call out, banging on the door. "This isn't funny!"

Focus on something else, Jungkook tells himself desperately. Anything else. Math. Chemistry. Professor Kim's boring lectures. That time Jimin ate an entire jar of kimchi and—

You shift again, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to suppress a strangled noise.

"Seriously," you growl, hitting the door again. "Whoever's out there better unlock this right now or I swear to god—"

Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Dead puppies. Tax forms. Spidey suit chafing. Anything but how soft you feel against—

"Jungkook?" Your voice cuts through his desperate mental gymnastics. "You okay? You're breathing kind of weird."

"Fine!" he squeaks, voice way too high to be convincing. "Totally fine! Just, uh... claustrophobic! Very claustrophobic. Super claustrophobic. Did I mention I'm claustrophobic?"

You turn your head slightly, and even in the dim light, he can see your brow furrow. "Since when?"

"Since... right now?"

Another shift of your hips as you try the handle again, and Jungkook has to close his eyes, silently praying to whatever deity might be listening to either kill him now or get him out of this situation before he combusts from sheer embarrassment.

Because if you notice... if you realize... oh god, he'll never live it down. He'll have to transfer schools. Change his name. Move to a different country. Become a hermit in the mountains where no one will ever find him—

"Can you try pushing while I pull?" you ask, completely unaware of his internal crisis.

Jungkook makes a sound that might be agreement, might be distress, might be his soul leaving his body. He's not really sure anymore.

All he knows is that he's trapped in a closet with you, with your body pressed against his, and his spidey-sense is absolutely no help because apparently it doesn't warn him about situations that might kill him from pure mortification.

"Jungkook?" you prompt again, and he realizes he hasn't moved to help with the door.

"Right!" he says quickly, voice cracking. "Sorry! Just... give me a second to... uh... mentally prepare."

You snort. "For pushing a door?"

"Yes," he says weakly, because what else can he say? 'Sorry, I need a minute because you feel too good pressed against me and I'm trying very hard not to embarrass myself'?

Yeah, no. He'd rather die.

Jungkook does what you say. He really does. He plants his palms flat against the door, muscles tensing as he tries to push in time with your pulls. But it's too much. Too much to focus on, too close, too you.

His very healthy, very 21-year-old brain is absolutely screaming some unfortunate, very, very filthy thoughts right now, and no amount of silently yelling at himself to stop it, stop it, STOP IT seems to be working.

Push and pull. Yeah, he's thinking of that in an entirely different context, and honestly, sue him. He's a guy. A guy experiencing literal hell because your ass keeps brushing against him every time you shift, and it's doing things to him.

You move again, and Jungkook swears he's going to lose it. Like, right here. On the spot. His knees are weak, his palms are sweating, and his brain is running on some kind of autopilot loop of, "Abort mission! Shut it down! This is a disaster!"

Fuck him. Fuck his life. Just take him now, death. Send the reaper. Hell, send Taehyung to throw him into the Han River. Anything but this.

But then—just as his brain reaches critical overload—you stiffen.

Oh no.

You turn your head slightly, glancing at him over your shoulder, and the look in your eyes is... not great. In fact, it's terrifying.

"Jungkook," you say, his name an ominous warning.

His whole body seizes, every alarm in his mind blaring at full volume as sweat beads at the back of his neck. "Yeah?" he squeaks, his voice cracking so hard he wants to dig his own grave and lie in it.

"Are you hard?"

Oh, fuck.

Oh FUCK.

His brain short-circuits. His entire being freezes. His soul? Gone. It has left the building. His vision blurs at the edges as the words echo around the tiny closet, bouncing off every surface and hitting him square in the chest over and over again.

"I—uh—what?" he stammers, his voice so high-pitched it might as well be a dog whistle.

You straighten, still half-facing him, and your brow furrows with that look of realization that makes him want to throw himself into the sun.

"You are," you say, your tone shifting between disbelief and a growing edge of... amusement?

"I—I—no—what? No, I'm not! That's—no, that's ridiculous!" He tries to back away automatically, but there's nowhere to go, and his shoulders slam against the wood behind him.

You fully turn at this point, arms crossing as you raise a suspicious eyebrow. "Really, Jungkook?" Your eyes drift ever so slightly downward, and oh no oh no oh no don't look down don't look down don't look down.

He flails. Not physically, thankfully, but mentally? He's losing it. He's scrambling for something, anything, to salvage even a shred of dignity.

"It's—it's not what you think!" he blurts out, his hands flying up defensively. "It's—it's the—the door! Yeah! This stupid closet! I told you I was claustrophobic, right? That's gotta... do something... biologically... right?"

You stare at him, unimpressed. Completely, utterly unimpressed.

"It's not me," he continues, voice cracking again because his body is betraying him. "It's—it's like—science! Random reaction!"

"...Random reaction." Your expression is unreadable now, which somehow makes this worse.

"Totally random," he insists, nodding way too quickly. "You know, like... blood flow! Hormones! Human anatomy! It's a thing! You can look it up!"

"Oh, I'll look it up," you mutter, the corner of your mouth twitching like you're trying very hard not to laugh.

"Please don't," Jungkook whispers, his face burning so hot he's genuinely worried the fire alarm's going to go off.

And honestly? He doesn't even care if the fire alarm goes off at this point. He'd happily burn in this library right now if it meant escaping the absolute mortification of this moment.

Jungkook is fairly certain he's about to pass out, maybe die, and definitely disintegrate into dust when it happens. You turn around, shift again, just slightly, your body brushing against him in a way that feels… deliberate?

Or is his brain just playing tricks on him now?

Oh god. Oh fuck. Is this some cruel, sick hallucination brought on by his overactive imagination? Is his mind punishing him for thinking all those filthy, traitorous thoughts earlier? Why can't he have some kind of superpower to read minds right now? Be Professor X or some shit, because at this point, anything would be better than not knowing what the hell is going through your head right now.

Do you think he's a creep? A weirdo? A perverted little freshman who can't keep it together for five fucking minutes?

Or—

The thought makes his stomach flip violently, a spark of something hot—and definitely dangerous—shooting down his spine as you shift again.

Or do you find this… fun?

Amusing?

Arousing?

Because there's something about the way you're not stepping back, the way you're not recoiling in disgust, the way your breaths are just slightly heavier than before, that's making Jungkook's head spin.

And then you chuckle—low, quiet, but unmistakable.

"This is the first time this has ever happened to me," you mutter, the sound light but laced with something he can't quite name.

But he doesn't care what it's laced with. He doesn't even care what it means.

Because oh god, that chuckle—he'd bottle it if he could. He'd trap it in a jar and keep it with him forever, listen to it on repeat like a favorite playlist, let it echo in his head until he went insane from the sound of it alone.

His mouth opens, but no words come out. His body is frozen, his brain completely fried, every single one of his senses hyper-focused on the fact that you're still right there, pressed against him, closer than you've ever been before.

Say something, dumbass, his brain screams at him. Anything. Literally anything.

"I—it's not my fault?" he manages weakly, his voice cracking so pathetically he wants to punch himself.

You laugh again, and this time there's no mistaking it—there's something mischievous in it, like you're enjoying watching him squirm. And oh no, oh god, you're enjoying this.

"I didn't say it was," you reply, your voice smooth, calm, fucking deadly.

Jungkook swallows hard. His legs feel like they're about to give out any second now. His palms are clammy. His heart is doing that thing where it feels like it's both racing and stopping entirely at the same time.

"I—uh—should we try the door again?" he stammers, trying desperately to redirect the situation before his entire body spontaneously combusts from the sheer tension in the air.

You hum softly, not answering right away, and Jungkook feels every muscle in his body tense in response.

You keep moving, but now it's with purpose—up and down motions that are too deliberate to be anything but intentional. Like you're actually trying to... to get him off. Right here. In this tiny closet. In the fucking library.

Jungkook's mind is gone. Absolutely fucking gone. His consciousness has left his body, floating somewhere near the ceiling as he tries to process what's happening. He's honestly shocked he hasn't passed out yet, given how fast his blood is rushing south.

His hands hover awkwardly over your hips, trembling with the effort not to touch. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, desperate to hold back the embarrassing sounds threatening to escape. Because he refuses to pant like some desperate animal, even though that's exactly what you're reducing him to.

But then—oh fuck—you reach back, grabbing his hands. And before his brain can catch up, you're placing them firmly on your hips.

"It's okay," you murmur, your voice low and honey-sweet. "You can touch me."

The permission makes him shudder, a full-body tremor that he couldn't suppress if he tried. Your hand slides over his, guiding it upward, and his breath catches in his throat as you move it higher, and higher, and—

Oh god.

You press his palm against your breast, and Jungkook's brain completely flatlines.

A pathetic whimper escapes him before he can stop it. His fingers twitch against the soft swell under your shirt, and he's pretty sure he's died. This is death. This is heaven. This is some kind of fever dream his horny brain has cooked up.

"Is this really happening?" he whispers, his voice raw and desperate. "Like, actually happening? Not just another dream or—"

He cuts himself off, realizing what he just admitted, but it's too late. The words are already out there, hanging in the heated air between you.

"Another dream?" you repeat, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. "You dream about this often, Jungkook-ah?"

Fuck.

"Way too often," he confesses, the words spilling from his mouth before his brain can catch up. And yeah, that's definitely because his mind has completely checked out. Because normal Jungkook? Coherent Jungkook? Would rather die than admit something like that.

But normal Jungkook isn't here right now. Normal Jungkook left the building the moment you pressed his hand to your breast. Now there's just... this Jungkook. The one who can't think straight because you're letting him squeeze and touch and feel, and your ass is doing absolutely criminal things against his cock.

His forehead drops to your neck, breath coming in heavy pants that he can't control anymore. Fuck trying to be quiet. Fuck trying to be composed. His hips move on their own, grinding forward to match your rhythm.

Because you gave him permission, right? You said he could touch. You guided his hands. So this is okay. This is allowed. This isn't just another fevered fantasy his desperate brain cooked up at 3 AM.

"Noona," he breathes against your skin, the honorific slipping out again because his filter is completely gone. His fingers flex against your breast, testing, exploring, learning what makes your breath hitch. "Fuck."

You guide his movements with a confidence that makes his head spin, showing him exactly how to touch you. His fingers find your nipple through the fabric, and the way it peaks under his touch makes him dizzy with want. Your hand stays over his, encouraging him to squeeze, to explore, to learn.

And Jungkook? He's never been this hard in his entire fucking life.

He's pathetic, really. Getting this worked up from some dry humping and breast play like he's fifteen instead of twenty-one. Sure, they're absolutely amazing tits—perfect, actually, fitting in his palm like they were made for his touch—but still. He's broadcasting his virginity like a fucking neon sign, getting this desperate this fast.

But he can't help it. Can't stop the way his hips keep rolling against you, seeking more friction, more pressure, more. He knows he's close—can feel it building in his abdomen, that telltale tingling that makes his toes curl in his stupid mismatched socks.

"Noona," he whimpers against your shoulder, the sound muffled by your shirt. "Noona, I'm—fuck—"

His breath comes in sharp, desperate pants. He's making these absolutely embarrassing sounds—little whimpers and moans he has to muffle against your skin because if anyone heard him like this, he'd actually die on the spot.

The pressure builds, and builds, and builds, until he's grinding back helplessly, practically sobbing because it feels so good he can't stand it. His free hand grips your hip like a lifeline, probably too hard, definitely leaving marks, but he can't help it.

"Please," he chokes out, though he's not sure what he's begging for. "Please, I'm—I can't—"

He's going to come in his pants like a fucking teenager, and the worst part? He doesn't even care anymore.

"It's okay, Jungkook-ah," you murmur, voice honey-sweet and deadly. "Let go for noona."

And that's—that should be illegal. The way those words hit him is criminal, making his whole body seize up like he's been electrocuted. His hips stutter, losing rhythm as everything goes white-hot. He groans against your shoulder, embarrassingly loud even muffled against the fabric, as his orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train.

He came. He just—he actually just—came in his pants. Like some inexperienced kid who's never been touched before.

Mortifying. Absolutely fucking mortifying.

A hiccup escapes him, something between a sob and a whimper, and he wants to disappear. To evaporate. To cease existing entirely.

"Hey," you whisper, so soft it makes his chest ache. Your hand reaches back, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, and his skin erupts in goosebumps immediately at the gentle touch.

He wants to cry. Wants to apologize. Wants to explain that he's not usually this pathetic (lie), that he can last longer than three minutes (another lie), that he's not always this embarrassingly eager (the biggest lie of all).

But the words stick in his throat like clay, thick and suffocating. Because what can he possibly say? 'Sorry I just creamed my pants from some dry humping and titty grabbing?'

"It's okay," you murmur, and another hiccup escapes him.

No. No, don't do that. Don't pity him. Don't say those words like anything about this situation is remotely okay. Because it's not. It's the furthest thing from okay. He just—he literally just—

"I really liked that," you add, voice soft but sure.

Jungkook's head snaps up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "What?"

You… liked it? How could you possibly have liked that? He barely lasted three minutes. He came in his pants like a middle schooler. He probably squeezed your tit too hard and left bruises on your hip and made the most embarrassing sounds and—

"How?" he croaks out, voice raw and disbelieving. "How could you—that was so—I'm so—"

Pathetic. Desperate. Inexperienced. Embarrassing.

His brain supplies about fifty different self-deprecating adjectives, but none of them make it past his lips because he's still trying to process the fact that you said you liked it.

The dam breaks.

Jungkook is crying. Tears spill over his flushed cheeks, unbidden and hot with shame, and oh god, he's really lost it now. He's crying, actually fucking crying, because apparently, being mortified isn't enough. No, his body has to betray him in every possible way all at once.

His blurred vision catches you turning around to face him, and then your hands—soft, warm—reach up to gently brush the tears away from his eyelids. The gesture makes him hiccup, and he immediately wants to crawl under the floorboards and die.

"It was cute," you murmur, and your tone is soft but steady, like you actually mean it.

"Don't say that," he mumbles, voice cracking as he ducks his head, his tears threatening to spill faster. He can't handle this. He really, really can't.

You smile—a smile so kind it feels like a dagger to his chest. "Why? I'm not lying."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"It was so embarrassing!" he bursts out, the words tumbling from his mouth in one long, panicked string. "I made such embarrassing sounds and—and I—I came in my pants and—"

"It's what I wanted," you interrupt, your words cutting through his spiraling like a blade.

He freezes, the tears still clinging to his lashes. His breath catches, the air suddenly clammy.

"...What?" he croaks, the word so small and broken it barely makes it past his lips. His mind blanks, unable to process what he just heard. Surely he misheard you, right? Surely this is some kind of cruel, shame-induced hallucination because there's no way.

"It's what I wanted," you repeat, your voice unwavering as you look him straight in the eye, your gaze too steady, too certain.

His breathing stutters. His tears momentarily forgotten, he stares at you, wide-eyed and silent, like you've just flipped his entire world upside down.

Your hand is still on his cheek, thumb brushing away the lingering wetness under his eye, and Jungkook can't look away from your face. Can't process the way you're looking at him—soft but certain, like you actually meant what you just said.

"But—" he starts, voice wavering. "But why would you—I mean, I—" He swallows hard, his face burning. "I barely even touched you. I just... got off on you like some desperate—"

"Because," you cut him off, your other hand coming up to frame his face, holding him still when he tries to look away. "I liked making you fall apart like that. Liked knowing I could affect you that much."

His breath catches. "But—"

"And," you continue, your thumb trailing down to brush over his bottom lip, making him shiver. "I liked how honest you were. How you couldn't hide how much you wanted it."

Jungkook's brain short-circuits again. Because what the fuck? What the actual fuck? You liked that he was desperate? That he was pathetic and needy and—

"The sounds you made," you murmur, leaning closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his lips. "Were fucking hot."

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, caught somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Because this can't be real. This has to be some kind of fever dream. Some kind of post-orgasm hallucination.

"Noona," he breathes, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he's allowed to touch you again. "I—"

And then the door clicks.

Both of you freeze, heads snapping toward the sound. Light floods the closet as the door swings open, and there stands Taehyung, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Time's up, lovebirds!" he announces cheerfully. "Did you two work out your... tension?"

Jungkook is going to kill him. He's actually going to murder his best friend. Right after he dies of embarrassment. Again.

"Hyung," he croaks out, face burning hotter than the sun. "Did you—was this—did you plan this?!"

Taehyung just grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "You're welcome!"

Yeah, Jungkook is definitely going to kill him.

Just... maybe after he changes his pants.

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[borathae]

Friendship Over | MYG x f.Reader

“You and Yoongi have been best friends for years and yet your friendship is build on perhaps the biggest misunderstanding on earth. You, totally into inexperienced guys, think that Yoongi steers away from romance because he is ace and therefore you keep quiet about your huge crush on him. While Yoongi, very eager to get sexy with you, thinks that you are only interested in experienced guys and therefore he sucks up his major crush on you. When one night, you accidentally run in on him touching himself to the thought of you, the foundation of your friendship crumbles irreparably and you are forced to make sense of the rubble.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: best friends to lovers!AU, Smut

Warnings: subbiest!Yoongi, inexperienced!Yoongi, shy!Yoongi, Yoongi in glasses, Domme!Reader, completely whipped!Reader, misunderstandings but make it two idiots in love <3, she thinks that he is ace and he thinks she isn't interested in "virgins", but it's quite the opposite, bruh these two just need to talk fr, male masturbation, handjob, getting caught, neediest making out, she is a lil rough with him but in a loving way, Yoongi is a natural ngnfng, they take turns making the other feel good, body worshipping, nipple licking & play, oral sex (m. & f.receiving), cum swallowing, safe penetrative sex in lotus & cowgirl, he cums so many times, listen. they're all new sensations to him so bear with him <3, he is literally this -> :O the entire time, imagine being a sub and experiencing subspace for the first time in the safest way, yeah this is what happens to him, dirty talk & praise, i feel so feral for this yoongi omfg, naked cuddles & giddy giggles for aftercare hihi <3

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! i love him i love him i love him he is such a cutie pattootie boongie woongie sweetie lovely pookie <3 this is an idea from kinktober24 which wasn't chosen for the official list, but i still wanted to write it because it is such a VIBE and we love nerdy virgin!Yoongi with a paSSION eheheh 💗

A short trip during spring has been your friendship tradition for years. Perhaps it is also the reason why you also haven’t had a boyfriend in years. The last one you had, did not like knowing that you would be sharing a room with your male best friend for three nights. You assured him that said best friend was on the ace spectrum, but alas he made you choose and so you chose Yoongi.

It was an easy choice, because it will always be Yoongi. If Yoongi asked you to, you would be his girlfriend in a heartbeat. He is the man of your dreams. He is mature and knows his place in life. He is intelligent and witty. He is highly empathetic and always knows the right comforting words to say. He is kind, so incredibly kind, and he is sweet. He is creative and full of wonderful ideas. He is your calm haven as much as he is the biggest source for your laughter. He is just so funny and most of all, he is a total nerd. 

Just like you. 

You and Yoongi can spend hours obsessing over your newest shared nerdy fixations and it wouldn't become boring. Many friendship trips ended in you and he locked up in your hotel room while you obsessed over your shared interests together. Each year and for each occasion, you get the other presents inspired by each other’s interests and you are even working on your own DnD campaign together.

He is your dream man, but you also know that he is aromantic and ace and that anything remotely romantic was weird to him. No way in hell would you ever tell him your feelings if it meant making your friendship – and him – uncomfortable.

So you stay quiet while you go on these friendship trips, pretending that sharing a room and bed with him doesn’t totally mess with your sanity and that spending so much quality time together doesn’t completely fuck you over. Sometimes, during these trips, your daydreams of being partners are so intense that you have to stop yourself from calling him baby.

One time, you actually did and Yoongi blushed and you totally saved yourself by turning it into a funny thing. A running gag so to speak, although the only gag running is you. From your confession. Because you’re a coward.

Yoongi is many a things, but he definitely isn’t ace. Nor is he aromantic. Yoongi is actually a complete and utter sucker for romance. And sex. Yoongi loves sex. In theory. In practice not that much. The thought of getting naked in front of someone scares him to the point of willingly staying a virgin. Not that he wouldn’t want to change it, but being naked. Why does one have to be naked during sex? This is so embarrassing.

Yoongi also thinks that you are the most amazing person to ever exist. If someone asked him who would be his dream partner, Yoongi would describe you. You are intelligent, charismatic, funny and have the kindest heart he has ever seen in a person. When he is with you, his mind quiets down and at the same time, he wants to keep being goofy. He also thinks that you are the most beautiful person existing. Inside and out, you are everything he wishes for. 

But he also knows that you are so much cooler and much more mature than him when it comes to relationships and that experienced people are a total turn on for you.

And Yoongi is very far from being an expert. So he stays quiet in order not to break his own heart by being rejected for being a loser virgin. 

The time you called him baby still haunts him, by the way. Not that this is in any way relevant to this story.

“The water pressure sucks. Just a heads up”, you say, entering the bedroom in nothing but a towel. 

Yoongi, sitting on bed and playing a card game on his phone, looks at you only to instantly look away again. His heart skips a few beats. Holy wow. 

“I feel like I’m still dirty, even though I really scrubbed myself”, you continue, oblivious to his flabbergasted stares.

“This sucks”, Yoongi answers you, hoping that he sounds calm enough not to call attention.

“It does. Big times.”

Yoongi glances at what you are doing. You are laying out an outfit, including your underwear. It is the lacy kind. Yoongi loves the lacy kind. He presses his legs together in hopes of stopping any kind of blood flow to his dick. He can’t risk it. How embarrassing would that be? He gets hard over your underwear. This is The definition of what a loser virgin would do. You don’t know that he is a virgin and Yoongi really wants to keep it this way.

“Does it still stand that you want to chill?” you ask him, throwing your clothes and lacy underwear over your arm.

You and he talked about dinner and Yoongi said that he wasn’t really hungry and that he would prefer to stay in the room. You don’t blame him. After all, he was the one who had to drive for six hours.

“Yeah. Is it okay if I do?” he says.

“Yes, it’s totally okay. I’m starving, I can’t wait. I hope that the restaurant is better than their water pressure. Otherwise, we totally chose the wrong hotel this year.”

You are talking to him as you walk back to the bathroom to get dressed.

Yoongi feels like a pervert, but when you are already in your underwear, you manage to change positions which makes it possible for him to see you in the reflection of the mirror. A decent person would look away, but Yoongi is a disgusting piece of shit. At least that’s how he feels as he runs his eyes up and down your barely clothed body, wishing for a higher deity to give him strength. You are so beautiful. The lace sits on your curves as if it was made for you, the cups of your bra hold up your breasts in such a nice way and your butt looks so perfect.

It aches. Yoongi wants to touch you and call you beautiful, but he can’t. He can’t because he is a loser virgin and you only like experienced men. 

You wear a flowy slip on dress, returning from the bathroom with light makeup on and the sweet scent of your perfume accompanying you.

“Can you help me with my necklace?” you ask him, walking to his side of the bed and sitting down on the edge of it.

“Sure, yeah”, he tries so hard not to squeak his words. You are so close to him that he can really smell your perfume. 

You roll your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You put highlighter on your shoulders and the area of your collarbones. It reflects the lights in a faint shimmer. Yoongi feels jealous of the necklace which gets to brush over this part of you. He is a complete mess, barely managing to close your necklace.

“Done”, he lets you know, accidentally brushing his fingertips down the nape of your neck as he pulls back. Goosebumps cover your skin in reaction and a shiver moves you.

Yoongi gulps. 

“This just totally give me the shivers. Do it again.”

Yoongi repeats the touch. You shiver and giggle, reaching back to scratch the spot he touched. 

“Totally ticklish too”, you look over your shoulder at him.

If Yoongi was any more of a disrespectful asshole, he would close the distance and kiss your neck. But he isn’t and so he gawks at you with a racing heart. 

“Thanks for closing the necklace, you’re a darling.” You stand up and give him a sweet smile.

Yoongi looks up at you over the brim of his glasses. His heart is beating out of his chest by now. He doesn’t know how many more trips he can take before he just bursts and confesses. This year is torture. His feelings are eating him alive.

“I’m downstairs for some. I’m taking the key card and my phone. So if you get locked out, call me”, you say, getting ready to leave.

“Yeah, okay. Have a good meal.”

“Hopefully I will. Have a good chill.”

He chuckles, “I will. Thanks.”

“See you.”

“See you. Bye.”

You leave the room soon after, abandoning Yoongi in his loneliness and yearning. If only he had more experience, he would take this fateful step and confess his feelings for you.

If you were his girlfriend, he would cook for you all the time. He would write you songs and he would perform them to you. He would rub your shoulders on stressful days and wipe your tears on sad days. He would constantly tell people that he was your boyfriend and he would even try to get over his fear of being naked for you. 

Yoongi knows that you would feel so nice. Warm and soft. He would love holding you and tracing your body. He would kiss you all over and get droopy from your scent.

Yoongi feels it. It’s happening again. His own disgusting thoughts are turning him on. It happened last year too.

The bed was smaller than this year and you ended up spooning him accidentally while Yoongi laid wide awake with a hard dick and a racing heart. He remembers that he had to leave the room early and secretly jerk off in his car because it just wouldn’t go down otherwise. This was the first time he touched himself to the thought of you and the memory comes back to haunt him.

Is this his fate? Did his brain connect these friendship trips with unbearable horniness? Is he destined to jerk off in secret each fucking year until he shrivels up and you find the love of your life in someone else? Is this it? Is he supposed to stay the pervert best friend who gets off on you?

Yoongi rolls out of bed and tries to get rid of his boner by doing a few jumping jacks. He is not going to give in again. Last year was a mistake, something which will never happen again. No woman deserves to be treated this way. Yoongi is too fucking grown to be such a stereotypical virgin.

The jumping jacks help until his eyes accidentally land on your open suitcase and the second set of lingerie you left on top of your clothes. It’s the lacy kind again. Red this time around. He messes up the jumping jacks, instantly feeling how blood rushes back to his dick. It’s useless. He won’t be able to survive this fucking trip if he doesn’t take care of it. Forcing it away will only end in him getting needier and the boner to be harder to hide. He has to do it now and never think of it again. Yep, that’s what he’ll do. Get it over with quickly and then hate himself for it.

Dinner was a complete fail because the restaurant was already closed. Fifteen minutes later and after one sad trip to the local supermarket for some dry bread, you are already back in front of your hotel room. You try to sneak into the room just in case Yoongi fell asleep. You open and close the door silently and tiptoe into the room. You abandon your heels by the door and continue to tiptoe to the bedroom. 

And then you see it and it almost makes you scream.

Yoongi is under the blanket and has his eyes closed. His arm makes the very distinctive movements a man makes when he jerks off. His constant small moans are another indicator 

And you feel frozen, feeling your entire world view crumble as you watch Yoongi – the supposedly biggest ace out there – touch himself. 

The better part of you tells you to turn around and leave. It almost wins until your name suddenly slips from his lips.

Quietly. Like a beg. So filled with pleasure.

Your knees buckle at the sound of it. If lady boners were a thing, you would have one. A huge one.

“___, you’re so soft, ah…”

Panic. How the fuck are you going to make yourself known? Clear your throat? Cough? Say his name? 

“Ah-ah”, Yoongi mewls and arches his back, throwing his arm over his eyes as he clearly finds release to the thought of you.

And you are spiralling. Holy fuck. He just orgasmed to the thought of you. 

“Urgh, fuck”, he comes down with a deep growl and gritted teeth, following it up with a squeaky whimper.

Speak! Say something!

He needs a few seconds afterwards to catch his breath. You should make yourself know, but you lost any ability to make a noise. 

He just orgasmed to the thought of you. 

Yoongi drops his arm from his eyes and opens them. His glasses are tilted, his hair is ruffled.

“Fuck”, he whispers, voice filled with shame.

He sits up to get a tissue, using it to wipe his hand. Afterwards he disappears under the blanket for a moment to clean himself.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Min Yoongi”, you hear him talk to himself.

You are totally frozen and mute, unable to make sense of what just happened.

Yoongi reappears and screams. He saw you, now jumping out of bed in horror.

“What, what, what are you doing here?” He stutters. “Since when. Oh god, since when? What did you see?”

“Uh…I heard my name and… saw what it did to you.”

“Oh my god”, Yoongi falls to his knees, “I’m so sorry, please don’t call the cops. I promise, I’ll leave. You won’t have to see me again. I’m so sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“No. Uh.” You shake your head to get back to reality. “It’s fine. This was hot.”

“What?”

“I really wanna kiss you.”

“What??”

Yoongi stands up, gawking at you. It feels as if everything he ever believed was a lie. You want to kiss him??

“Excuse my bluntness, but this made me wet. Like seriously, watching you orgasm to the thought of me changed me as a person”, you say, looking at him as if you wanted to ravish him whole.

Yoongi stutters, but he does it so hard that it stays unintelligible for you. It was definitely something nervous and shocked. 

“Do you want me to come closer?” you ask him.

Yoongi blushes vividly. He nods his head shyly, covering his face.

“Holy fuck, Yoongi…”

You close the distance in wobbles, wanting to fall over him like a rabid animal. You want him so bad.

Yoongi panics. 

“I’m a virgin!” he yells his confession.

You stop, gawking at him with widened eyes. Yoongi’s face is bright red, his eyes are big. 

“Well! Uhm… I jerk off and uh, I had hand stuff done to me. In a club. Once. I was drunk and it was dark. I….And I kissed women. And uhm men. Woah, I just said that.”

“You just said that.”

“Forget I ever said anything. Actually? Forget about me all together. I need to go. Goodbye.”

“Yoongi, hey”, you stop him, holding his hands gently. 

Yoongi stops, avoiding your eyes as he does nervous gulps repeatedly. His glasses are starting to fog up by now. This is how high you are raising his temperature. You aren’t helping when you take his chin between two fingers gently. Yoongi feels like prey, vulnerable and totally at your mercy. And the most confusing thing? He likes it. A lot.

“I get that you’re nervous, but don’t be. I don’t judge”, you assure him. You can’t stop looking at him. It has become so much more exciting ever since his confession. Shit, you need to control yourself. It wouldn’t be mannerly to fall over him as if you are starving. 

“You don’t judge me?” he asks quietly.

“Of course not. This just totally messes up what I thought of you, so uhm, sorry if I still sound a little shocked.”

“Is it that bad?” 

“Not at all. I just always assumed that you were aro-ace because you said that anything romantic and sexual feels weird to you.”

“It’s not weird to me. I’m…” he lowers his head in shame, “I feel weird about being naked. The thought of being perceived in such a state totally gives me a panic attack. I just dipped whenever sex was insinuated and yeah, I did this for years until being untouched felt easier than the thought of being seen did. Now I’m in my thirties and a loser virgin.”

“Shit, I didn’t know this about you. I’m sorry that you feel this way and that you feel this way about yourself. I should have asked, you know, talked to you about it.”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I feel like a loser.”

“You’re not a loser. It’s totally valid to start later than others. I just don’t get it. You’re fucking gorgeous. People should be all over you all the time.”

“Oh”, he lowers his head.

“Sorry, insensitive. Trauma from a bad experience? Is that why you feel weird?”

“No, just insecurities. I guess. And, I don’t know, I guess just feeling like I’m gonna be judged for liking it a certain way.”

“How do you like it?”

“I’m a complete sub, but I’m a guy. I don’t know”, he explains rubbing his neck to self-soothe.

“I know it’s probably not gonna help you, but I think that you’re the most handsome man ever. And I like to snack on subby guys like you. Virgins are my favourite.”

“What?” he gasps, finally meeting your eyes. “But you like experienced guys.”

“Yeah, guys who have experiences in life. Someone who is mature and knows what he wants. You know, someone who will build me a home and who wants to take care of it together. Someone who knows what to say when the day is rough because he is empathetic and kind. This kind of experience is sexy. Someone like you is sexy.”

“What do you mean??”

“I have feelings for you. For quite a few years now.”

“Holy fuck.”

“That bad?” 

“No, just. Are you serious? I swear to fucking god, if you’re just messing with me, friendship over. I’m in a vulnerable state right now and I can’t take a fucking prank-” 

You silence him by kissing him. Yoongi’s knees give up, back colliding with the wall and hands grasping your waist. He is kissing you. Well correction, you are kissing him. But oh my god. 

You break the kiss, not because you want to but because you need to. Your hands are on his hips, your eyes undress him slowly. Yoongi suddenly feels eighteen again, lips still tingling from your kiss.

“I’m too fucking grown to mess with your feelings like that”, your voice sounds like heaven to him, “I know what I want and how I feel. You’re the guy of my dreams and the fact that you’re a total sub and a virgin just makes me want you even more. Sorry if this comes off as totally blunt, but this is my truth.” 

“Kiss me again. Please”, he begs, head far gone and body burning up. 

You give what he wishes for gladly. A kiss. So deep and emotional that it is difficult to handle. You press yourself against him, cornering him against the wall while Yoongi barely manages to keep himself standing. He digs his fingers so deep into your waist that he dimples your softness, his heart never raced like this before.

“Is this good? Do you like this?” you mumble between kisses, hands restless on his squirming body and lips starved for him.

“Good. So good.” He answers you in helpless, totally needy moans, still only grasping your waist because he is star struck. 

Just like he confessed, Yoongi kissed women before. And men. But none of the people he kissed felt like you feel. When he kissed them, Yoongi felt in control of himself and as if it was just a simple kiss. 

But with you? With you, there is no ounce of control left in him. This is so much more than a kiss. It makes him feel so fucking high. 

And needy.

So needy.

The kiss breaks, but Yoongi doesn’t get to breathe. You drag him to bed, throw him atop of it and climb him. His hands are pinned above his head instantly and his thighs finally know the weight of you.

“You have to stop me if I’m too fast”, you tell him.

“Don’t stop.”

You kiss him again. Needier than before. So much sloppier too. Yoongi can barely keep up, soon having to break it just to breathe.

“How do you fucking breathe when you kiss like this?” he asks.

“No idea, I always get dizzy”, you say and giggle, “sorry, I’m way too rough aren’t I?  Should we stop? How far do you want me to go?”

“All the way.”

You exhale shakily. Yoongi gulps. It’s out there now. He wants all of it with you. Take the hands of the wheel and shift to the highest gear. Yoongi doesn’t want this to stop. 

He gazes at your lips. They are puffy and wet from kissing. He did that, he thinks. He fucking did that and he wants it again.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Please.” He licks his lips nervously, which lets you know that he still wants to say something. “I just can’t promise you a good time. I’ll try, but you have to guide me.”

You chuckle, cradling his cheeks to lean down and kiss his lips.

“Just being with you, already means I’m having the best time ever”, you say, tugging on his lower lip playfully.

Yoongi moans, lifting his head to chase the sensation. You give him a playful growl, which totally messes him up, and shove his head back into the pillow. Again, it messes him up. It’s so sexy when you’re rough with him. Yoongi didn’t think that the things he fantasised about would actually feel this good.

“Do you like it when I’m rough with you? You’re moaning so much.”

“I like it so much. You’re so sexy.”

“Mhm Yoongi…I can be even sexier…”

You straighten up, giving him a playful smile as you hook your hands in your dress to take it off.

Yoongi lies, totally frozen, and stares at you as if you were a goddess. His brain can barely comprehend what is happening to him. He might actually develop a headache from mere sensation overload. Is he still daydreaming?

Yoongi gasps and pinches himself.

“Ouch.”

You laugh, lifting your brows in question, “what was that for?” you ask, throwing the dress to the floor.

“Just panicked and needed to check if I’m awake.”

“You’re dumb”, you laugh, leaning down and cradling his cheeks, “this isn’t a dream, silly. Although it feels like one.”

He gulps, gawking at your lips with needy puppy eyes.

“Touch me as I kiss you”, you say and claim his lips.

Yoongi shudders, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his hands on your body with such passion that you gasp. You giggle, biting his lower lip.

“Sorry.”

“You’re good, fuck so sexy.”

You kiss him with tongue for what he did and Yoongi is a goner. He tries to figure out your rhythm, resulting in your kiss to be so much needier than you planned it to be. Not that you mind. Kissing Yoongi is a dream come true. You always knew that kissing his lips would be a different experience. They are so perfect. So pouty and soft and so goddamn pretty. Sometimes when he talked to you, all you could do was stare at his lips and daydream about how it would be to kiss him.

And now you are kissing him and it is better than any daydream ever made it out to be. Your heart is racing so much, your skin is twice as sensitive to touch and your pussy has never wanted to have cock more than she does tonight.

Yoongi is currently stuck in his own life-altering experience. He is touching you. The thing he fantasised about is actually happening and you are so much softer than you were in his imagination. Your skin is like the finest silk he ever touched. Warm and tender and soft. So soft. Yoongi thought that he would be obsessed with the spots where your underwear digs into you, but he was wrong. Your waist and back feel so good to touch. They fit under his palm as if his hands were made to hold you.

Yoongi doesn’t know just how tightly he can hold you, but he has to try. Just once. One squeeze. Strong.

“Yoongi, fuck”, you breathe, abandoning his lips to kiss a messy path to his neck.

“Oh woah”, he lets out, gasping for air afterwards. He shivers, squirming under you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…don’t stop, please.”

“I can’t stop. You smell so good and taste, mhm, your taste…” you trail off, dragging your tongue down his neck until you reach the collar of his shirt.

Yoongi realises quite a lot about himself right in this moment. He realises that the reason why he felt so weird about being naked was because he was never really turned on correctly. Because right now, he curses the existence of his fucking shirt.

“Wait.”

“Sorry, too far?”

You straighten up in sync with him sitting up. Your air catches in your throat as you watch him take off his shirt.

“You don’t have to if you feel weird about it”, you say.

“I want it”, he says and throws the shirt on the floor. He drops back in the pillow, gazing up at you submissively and so ready to be devoured.

Your heart might jump out of your throat if this keeps going. He is so beautiful. His skin is fair and his nipples are dark in contrast. They are so perky, currently hard and swollen from the cool air. His tummy is soft in contrast to his pecs and under his pretty belly button, a faint happy trail disappears in his boxers.

You have never felt more attracted to a person than you do right now. 

“I’m fucking serious when I say this. You are fucking gorgeous, holy fuck.”

“You think?”

“I do. Fuck, I can’t believe that you’re real. It’s insane.”

Yoongi squirms, heart doing somersaults in his chest. It basically goes crazy when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra.

“Oh my god”, he whispers, ogling your breasts.

“Thought we could match.”

“Oh my god”, he insists and flutters his lashes.

“First pair of tits?” 

“In real life, yeah. Oh my god, you’re beautiful. What the fuck?”

You chuckle. He is so cute when he curses.

“Can I touch them?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Yoongi sits up. The sparks between you and him are electric. You look so deeply into each other’s eyes, sharing air and the same pulse. You give him a little playful smirk, flustering him.

Yoongi lowers his eyes, studying your chest. He lifts his hands to it, placing them over your breasts. 

You sigh softly, leaning into his touch. 

Yoongi exhales, blinking away the emotion in his eyes. 

He can feel your heart like this. It is racing. He can’t explain why this affects him the most, but it does. 

He lifts his eyes, whispering your name.

“Yeah? Is this good?” 

He gives you his answer by kissing you. He moans with you and while you make a sound because he surprised you, he makes it because he could feel your heart skip a beat and then speed up. And this is turning him on more than anything else.

He squeezes your soft breasts instinctively, feeling tingly when you moan and kiss him deeper in reaction. So he does it again. And again. And fucking again. Until he made up a rhythm and you roll your hips on his lap in a needy rhythm. Your arms are hooked behind his head, your fingers are playing with his hair.

Yoongi brushes his thumbs over your nipples, learning first hand what this does to you.

“Shit, this feels so good”, you sigh into the kiss, running your fingers down the nape of his neck so you can dance them up to his scalp again and grab more of his soft hair.

It feels so good to him too and so he does it again. And again. And again. And again until he made up a rhythm and your panties start to feel soaked against his thigh. He wasn’t born yesterday, so he knows that this is a good sign. He gets you wet. It’s insane to him, turning his brain into liquid.

“Yoongi, this is…” you trail off, hugging him close in a shiver of your body. His hands sadly have to slip to your back like this, but it doesn’t matter.

He feels your breasts squish against him and this is otherworldly to feel.

Yoongi is seriously so far gone. All that he currently exists for is the intimacy you and he share. He has never been as focused on anything as he is right now on what you and he are doing. 

You slide your hands to his hair and push with your chest. Yoongi falls. The kiss breaks, but the connection between your souls is still there. He gazes up at you through his slightly tilted glasses, having no idea how he should ever be normal again when he knows how you feel.

“One last chance. I’m serious, once you give me the go, I will fall over you like I’m a vampire and you’re blood”, you tell him, fucking him slowly with your hungry eyes.

He laughs. You laugh as well. The connection only grows. Fuck, you’ve never been more turned on than you are right now laughing with your best friend because you are both having a good time.

“Please be a vampire”, he allows you, readying himself for what was to come.

“Fuck, I’m gonna eat you”, you growl and fall over him just like you warned him that you would. “Lie back and enjoy, baby. This is about you now.”

Yoongi has to very quickly learn what he agreed on getting done to him is a lot harder to handle than he thought it would be. Your hands and mouth are restless and hungry. Touching and kissing and biting him everywhere. And the licking. Jesus fucking christ, there is so much licking happening that Yoongi soon starts writhing and squirming because it feels so fucking good.

“You’re so sexy. Holy fuck, your body. Yoongi, I’m obsessed. You’re so handsome”, you are babbling between your feast, driving away any kind of insecurity he could ever feel. 

And as you praise him constantly, you help him learn a lot about his own body. His collarbones are nice to be sucked hickeys on to. It feels really tingly when you run your fingers up and down his sides. His tummy is insanely sensitive to the point where he needs to squirm. And his nipples. Fucking hell, his nipples. Yoongi didn’t think that arching his back was possible but then you swirl your tongue over his perky nipple and follow it up with a bite, Yoongi is a goner.

“How’s it for you, handsome?” 

“Good”, he mewls.

“Good. It’s good. Baby, I’m so obsessed with you. Holy fuck”, you rasp and do the sexiest thing of dragging your wet tongue all the way down to the hem of his boxers.

Yoongi has never felt more desirable and at the same time ruined than he does right now.

Only lied out and devoured like this, does he realise that he is still in only his briefs. And that they are fighting against the second boner of tonight. It aches so much more than the first one. Quite frankly, Yoongi has never felt so much pain between his legs than he does right now as he is being explored by you.

“Please”, he begs, which he didn’t even know that he could do.

“Want me to take care of it?”

“Yes”, he mewls, writhing from side to side and rubbing his legs together. This was the sexiest thing he was ever asked. Yoongi doesn’t recognise himself anymore. What is happening to him and why doesn’t he want it to stop?

“I’m going insane, I mean it”, you confess, hooking your fingers in his soaked briefs. You take them off completely, throwing them on the floor.

The next moment is spend in star struck silence as you stare at his cock. 

He has the most perfect cock you have ever seen. Listen, you saw your fair share of dicks in your life and you can say with complete honesty, that Yoongi’s is the sexiest cock ever. His tip is flushed and his shaft curves slightly. The sexiest part, however, are the prominent veins spanning all over his cock. Of course someone with his hands would have a veiny dick. If this continues, you might start barking.

“___?”

You lift your eyes at his shy whisper, “yeah?”

“Can we turn off the lights?”

“Oh”, you realise, “totally! I’m so sorry for staring. I just haven’t seen such a sexy cock before. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”, you explain yourself, reaching over to the light switch.

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You really think that I’m sexy?”

“Yes, I’m serious. You have the kind of dick you only see in fanart. You know, the really sexy fanart on Patreon I pay for.”

Yoongi instantly understands what you mean. Sometimes you showed it to him because he asked under the pretence that he was just interested in art, while he secretly used these moments to make a picture of what you like. In his head, the dicks in these drawings were so much sexier than his dick could ever be, but if you seriously think that his dick looks like those dicks, Yoongi has won in fucking life.

“Keep the lights on”, he says.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, keep them on. I”, he giggles, hiding behind his hands, “shut up, I look like this?”

You snicker, “mhm, you do. You sexy beast.”

“Shut up.”

You tug his hands away, pinning them above his head as you hold them. You look at him as if he was your everything, raising his pulse.

“I’m so into you”, you whisper.

“Please”, he begs, chasing your kiss.

You give it to him gladly, kissing him until air is sparse. And only then, you begin your next journey. Down to his aching cock, for which you feel so starved that it hurts. You use your fingers to paint a path for your tongue, leaving out his cock when you reach him to lick his inner thighs instead.

Yoongi twists the sheets. He didn’t know that this was a real thing. Sometimes when he lost himself in a good fanfiction and it talked about people twisting the sheets in pleasure, he always thought that this was the creative choice of the author. Nope. This actually happens and Yoongi has no control over it.

He twists the sheets and seconds later, tugs on them as you sink him into your warm mouth.

“What the actual fuck?” he gasps out, sitting up slightly. 

You purr around him, shoving him down with your hand on his chest.

Yoongi drops in the sheets, arching his back. There you are again, being a little rough with him. Yoongi gasps for air as if he has never breathed before, cock throbbing in your mouth.

You sink him in completely, moaning around him. He is the perfect size for your mouth. Oh you love his cock. You swallow around him, purring in pleasure.

Yoongi shakes, throwing his hands over his eyes which results in his glasses to fall off messily. 

“Stop. I’m gonna cum.”

You slip off of him, almost setting him off. His hips twitch, following your mouth. 

“So sensitive”, you coo, swirling your tongue over his cockhead while your fingers jerk off his length.

“Please. What the fuck. This feels so good. Stop, I have to- ah!”

“Mhhm, what a pretty cock you have and so sensitive”, you purr, giving it kisses.

One. Two. Three. Four because you love him. Five because he is so sweet. Six because he twitches so perfectly. Seven and then you sink him in again. 

You keep your tongue pressed against him, relaxing your lips so they would move around him as you fuck your face with him. Your right hand is playing with his dainty nipples, while your left is rubbing the base of his cock. 

“Please stop, I’m gonna-”, he can’t finish his sentence because you make him moan oh so easily.

You understand him nonetheless, slipping off his dick to talk. You switch nipples and slide your left hand to his balls.

“Please…stop”, he gets out, totally out of breath and quaky.

“You really wanna stop?”

“No, but. But. Ah. But I have to…oh god, I have to fucking cum”, he presses out, tensing his neck and putting his hand over your hand to squeeze it. His palm is sweaty and warm. This is so sexy to feel.

“Cum in my mouth, baby. I like it”, you encourage him, slipping him back inside to suck on his pretty cock. Vigorously if one may add, to the point where your cheeks fall in and Yoongi feels as if you are sucking the soul out of him.

“Ah! A-ah…” He grabs your head with his other hand, hips twitching uncontrollably. “Please, fucking shit, ah! Please, ___, please.”

You knew that he wouldn’t last long, but this wasn’t the goal. You want tonight to be fucking perfect and if this means that he orgasms in your mouth prematurely, then so be it. This is so sexy to you. It’s honestly everything you wanted for years. You thought about him like this in your most sinful nights, imagining the taste of him. And now you are greedy and want him as quickly as possible.

He tastes so much fucking sweeter than he did in your imagination, dulling your senses to nothing but him.

“Ah please. A-ah, oh god. Oh god.”

You slurp and moan as you suck him off, pushing Yoongi into the kind of high which nothing will ever be able to recreate. Orgasms from a mouth just hit differently. They are so much warmer and leave one’s legs just so fucking wobbly. 

And Yoongi currently experiences the first ever high like this, twisting your hair and cursing in a broken voice. You can also hear glimpses of your name, but they’re oh so broken in pleasure.

You swear that you actually came with him. Holy shit, he sounds so sexy when he orgasms. For just a second, one must think about his voice and then imagine it when a high shakes his body. Yes, exactly, the lethalness of him is out of this world. 

Just like he did for his first orgasm, he comes down with a growl and gritted teeth, dropping into the sheets. He pushes you off, covering himself and fighting for air.

“Oh my god. Ahm. Oh god. Ah.”

You help him through it, kissing your way up to his lips. You made sure to swallow all of him before you kiss him.

“Good job, babyboy.” 

Droopy but with more confidence, Yoongi cups your cheek, kissing you back. He is a lot noisier, purring constantly. He even gives your lower lip a tug before ending the kiss.

“What the fuck”, he purrs tiredly, gazing at you. His cheeks are so flushed, his eyes are slightly glassy. He looks so happy. Shocked, but happy.

“First ever head?” you whisper your question, tracing his pecs. Your leg is swung over one of his thighs, knee resting between them.

“Yeah.”

You scrunch your nose, “I can assume that you liked it?”

“So much, you have no idea”, he says and licks his lips.

“You wanna say something?”

“I’m sorry for nutting so soon. I swear, this was really overwhelming for me.”

“It’s okay. I knew you wouldn’t last long. I rarely last long during head. It’s really sexy to me.”

“You like it too?” he croaks out, lifting the inner corners of his brows submissively.

“Yeah, but I rarely got it.”

Yoongi doesn’t like to hear this. Now that he knows how good it feels, he feels enraged thinking that such sensations are a rare thing for you. Someone like you should be adored this way constantly. The fucking moment you first kissed him, all he wanted was to make you feel good too. How on earth could other guys not feel the same?

“What’s with the angry face?” you ask him.

“It’s just…you should have felt it a lot.”

“You’re so sweet. I guess I just have trash exes.”

“You do. I never liked any of them”, he confesses, making you chuckle. He licks his lips, “can I?”

“Eat me out?”

“Yeah. Please.”

“Yes, oh my god.”

You and he switch places, kissing as you do. He is between your legs, hands on your body and skin melting with yours. 

He is the one to break the kiss, gazing at you. Your heart flutters because of him.

“If I do something weird or wrong, tell me please.” 

“Yes, I-” 

He interrupts you before you can continue by connecting his puffy lips with your neck. His fingers paint paths and swirls, his lips trace them. He even sucks on some spots, flicking his tongue over your skin just like you did to him.

“Yoongi…wow….” 

“You smell so good”, he whispers and purrs, rubbing his nose down your neck to your collarbones. “And you’re so soft”, he adds, following it with a small hickey on your left collarbone. And your right one. He doesn’t want it to feel left out.

“When I put your necklace on, I wanted to do this to you”, he confesses, totally sending you down a spiral because...

“What the hell? This is what you were thinking? Oh my god, Yoongi…aaah”, you moan, squirming.

“You’re beautiful”, he rasps and continues his path down to your chest.

He is going to take his time. Just like you did when you explored him. He is going to kiss you, bite the soft spots and lick the tender areas. 

Yoongi might have started this evening as an inexperienced idiot, but he will be damned if he lets his inexperience stop him from loving you right. He fantasised about what he would do to you so many times that he has to be an expert at them now that it finally happens. And judging by how much you sigh and moan and squirm, he is doing a good job.

He kisses you, feels you up and uses his mouth on your nipples. He knows that this feels good. You moan because of it, chasing the touches. 

For just a second he slips off, trying to dirty talk even if his heart is hammering in his chest. 

“You have the prettiest tits. They’re perfect.”

You sigh and arch your back to chase his lips in reaction. Yoongi takes your nipple back inside, closing his eyes. Perhaps he isn’t that bad at dirty talk. You seem to really like it.

Yoongi feels confident in continuing. He explores your tummy and waist, wanting to make you feel so good.

He wasn’t born yesterday. He’s grown enough to know that if it feels good for him, it also feels good for you. So he tries to mimic what you did to him and hopes that it feels good to you. He just doesn’t know how good it actually feels until you break the silence with a curse. He was in such a trance, mind completely focused on you, so hearing you curse feels like a slap to the face.

He is between your legs by now, having nuzzled your inner thighs before. He looks up at you, frozen in panic. Did he do something wrong?

“This is fucking insane, I’m so horny”, you confess and chuckle, “fuck, just lick me.”

Yoongi’s cock tingles. As does his stomach. So you liked it. A lot. 

“Do you want it over your panties? Uhm, they’re so pretty”, he asks shyly.

“Thanks, they’re lace.”

“I know. The lacy kind. I like them.”

You meet his eyes. He is shy, but courageous at the same time.

“You say the sexiest stuff. No panties, want you raw”, you say and lift your butt so you can take off your underwear. You lift your legs too, keeping them in the air when you throw the panties to the side.

“Wow, this is…wow”, Yoongi whispers, staring without shame. His mouth is agape, his eyes are widened.

“Come closer, baby.”

“Okay. Like this?” 

“Yes, like this.”

Yoongi almost passes out when you put your legs over his shoulders and writhe sensually. This is so hot.

He looks up at you, deep into the sultry eyes you give him.

“You look so good with my legs on your shoulders, handsome”, you coo.

Yoongi snorts a chuckle in coyness, lowering his eyes because he possibly couldn’t look at your eyes anymore. You snicker, enjoying his flustered reaction with a racing heart.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps his arms around your thighs and goes down on you, gazing up at you as he does. He needs to see if you like it. You gasp, thighs tensing under his fingers.

Yoongi needs nothing more than the first lick to already be obsessed, moaning into you. 

“You taste so good. What the fuck, I missed out big times”, he says and buries himself in you again.

He looks for the good spot with slow flicks of his tongue, making it feel incredible for you without even trying.

“Is nice, baby”, you sigh.  

But he thinks that he could do better. Yoongi knows from fanfiction that women can arch their backs from getting ate and you aren’t arching it yet. 

He lifts his mouth, gazing at your pussy. He needs to study you, make out where to focus on. His hands rub your inner thighs as he memories the view of you.

“What’s the matter?” you sound desperate.

“Where do you like it most?”

“Oh. Oh wow, this is sexy. I guess I like it here a lot. You know what a clit is, right?” you show it to him.

“I do. Yours is so pretty”, he whispers, drooling. 

You mewl and drop in the pillow, “fucking hell, I’m so horny.”

“Same”, Yoongi confesses in the sexiest rasp ever and buries himself back in you. He took a glimpse and thinks that he knows the spot now. He swirls his tongue, waiting for your reaction.

You writhe, rubbing your feet over his back as your legs move with you. A small moan escapes you.

Better. He can do better. Yoongi fixes his tongue. He feels the difference first and sees the effect it has on you second.

You arch your back, twisting the sheets and curling your toes.

“There. What the fuck, ahmm.”

Yoongi feels euphoric. He closes his hands around your waist and presses his tongue closer. He swirls and flicks it, moaning each time you moan and squeezing your waist whenever you writhe.

“Okay. Woah. Ah. Wow. What the fuck? Yoongi, holy fuck”, you get out, genuinely losing it. 

The way he goes down on you feels so good that you completely forget that he never did this before. Of course he is a natural. Someone with his pretty mouth and witty tongue has to be good at oral. 

“Serious, Yoongi”, you grasp a bundle of his hair, “I’m already close. A-ah…”

Yoongi fucks the sheets, pulling you against his face until your butt is off the sheets. Your legs hook behind his head tightly, he purrs and grasps your hips, moving them for you so you are grinding on his face. 

This isn’t like him at all. This can’t be your shy, nerdy best friend. A demon must have replaced him. You lift your head with the little strength you have left, croaking his name.

This is actually him. Yoongi is between your legs, Yoongi is the one who grinds your hips on his face. This is actually him. Yoongi might genuinely go a little feral when he has your pussy on his tongue. She has him acting up. The realisation shoots shakes through your body.

“I can’t. Baby, fucking hell”, you moan, dropping into the pillow again.

Yoongi purrs into you, taking your clit between his lips to suck on her. He ends it by grinding his tongue against her, purring so deeply. 

“Holy fuck. Urgh, Yoongi”, you get out, tugging on the sheets and trembling.

Yoongi feels high. He is so eager to get you over the edge. So eager in fact that he starts using his entire mouth for it. Tongue and lips and messy saliva. And of course, he does everything right with it.

He throws you over the edge just like this.  Tongue kissing your pussy and using his strength to help you get there easier. He surprises himself as well with how hard it hits you.

“Yoongi!” 

He looks up at you in shock. Is he doing This? Is he responsible for the pretty face you are making and the tremors of your body? Yoongi curls his tongue against your throbbing clit, making you moan loudly and writhe. Fuck, he is the one doing this to you.

Yoongi fucks the mattress harshly, speeding up his tongue which results in you to wail up and tug on his hair.

“Yoongi! Ah, Yoongi!”

His name from your mouth. Yoongi feels delirious. This is so hot. He needs more of you. More. He sucks on your clit, totally lost to you.

“Sensitive! Baby, slow down!”

Yoongi can’t hear you, purring around you despite how much he overstimulates. 

“Yoongi…baby…slow urgh fuck.”

It takes you quite a lot of strength to actually wrestle him off of you. And he doesn’t let go without complaint. He mewls in distaste, soothing himself by sucking on your inner thighs instead. His grip on you is strong. Which is turning you on so much. Of course someone with his hands has strength in them.

You drop with a groan, squirming from side to side as you try to recover from one of your best highs ever. And it’s by none other than your shy best friend. With surprisingly strong hands. And a really fast tongue. You might not leave this night sane.

“You’re insane.”

Yoongi only stares for a moment before the unbearable desire to kiss you overcomes him. He starts at your tender inner thighs and kisses his way up to your lips eagerly.

He reaches your lips feeling droopy and totally devoted to you. You kiss him back eagerly, playing with his hair. But you don’t get to taste him for long, pulling him back to talk.

“What the fuck was this?” you ask, staring at his puffy, pink lips. They’re still glistening from what he did.

“Why? Was it bad?”

“Uhm, no? Hello? You just made me shake, what the hell?”

Yoongi blushes, looking to the side.

“I just did what I thought would feel good for you”, he mumbles with a pout.

“I can tell you that you did everything right. I’m done for.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, this was it for me.”

Yoongi feels equal parts proud and angry. He made you feel so good, but it was to such a level that you don’t want more.

“What’s with the pout?” you ask him.

“No, it’s nothing.”

You snicker, “you want more, don’t you?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Lie down.”

Yoongi obeys, shivering when you cuddle into his side and begin tracing his torso.

“I’m not done with you either. Don’t you worry. Just need a quick breather.”

He blushes, looking to the side. He is so cute and you are still so droopy from the high he gave you that you end up giggling and stubbing his flushed cheek with your nose. You nuzzle against him afterwards. 

“You’re so cute”, you gush.

Yoongi accepts it silently, feeling too flustered to come up with anything. His heart is beating uncontrollably. Naked cuddling is everything. Being called cute comes close second. A kiss on the cheek is third.

“Are you really sure about more?” you ask him.

“Yes”, he nods his head vigorously, but falters as a question runs through him, “are you?”

“Yes I am. Just want to make sure that you’re still comfy. My first time was kinda traumatic, yeah. Don’t wanna do the same thing to you.”

“What? Who was the bastard?” Yoongi asks, furrowing his brows.

“I’m good, god I’m good. It’s been years and I’m over it. God, you’re so cute”, you gush, having to kiss him for being so perfect.

Yoongi is tense at first but relaxes very soon. He melts in your hands, rolling to the side to wrap his arms around you and kiss you deeper. With tongue. It’s perfect. Everything about him is perfect. 

It isn’t long and you are both so turned on that you are out of breath as you break the kiss. 

“I think I saw condoms in the bedside table”, you say.

“I’ll check”, Yoongi says and flips over.

You use the opportunity to place kisses on his back and shoulder. And Yoongi is done for. He manages just enough to get a condom but then melts into you, eyes closed and butt wiggling against you. All his mind thinks about is last year when you accidentally spooned him and he had to touch himself because of it. 

And now he is here. Naked and hot in your arms while you kiss his neck and rub his nipples. 

“Please”, he sighs, placing his hand over yours, “please take me, I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Fuck, you say the sexiest stuff”, you rasp and press yourself closer, “condom?”

He shows it to you. 

“Yes, thank god. Imagine if there were none and we’d have had to stop because of it.”

“Don’t make me think of that”, he cranes his neck, gazing up at you with the most submissive and devoted eyes ever. “I don’t want this to stop. Not ever”, he whispers.

“Wow you”, you get out. You have to cradle his cheek and rest your forehead against his, rubbing noses together because the intimacy asks for it. “Me neither. This is so sexy, but also feels like everything I ever wanted.”

“Yeah.” He sighs his words. “Just wanna be with you.”

“Then put it on and let me have you, Yoongi baby. Please, I’ll lose my mind otherwise.”

“Yes, okay.” 

He wiggles out of your hug and sits up. You sit back, watching him work.

“You know how to do this, don’t you? You have to make sure to pinch the tip of the condom.”

“I know, I’m not a total noob. I did the thing with my tongue and made you cum, remember?” he teases.

He flusters you a little. He can be so sexy with his wit if only he wants to.

“Shut up, you. How could I forget?” you mumble and nudge his arm.

Yoongi smirks lazily, giving you sexy eyes.

You squeeze his arm, “hurry up, I’m serious.”

“Right. Sorry.” 

The condom is put on soon after and you can get back to kissing him. You climb his lap, playing with his hair and grinding your pussy against his cock.

Yoongi has to break the kiss because of it.

“Don’t do this.”

“Not a fan?”

“No. Yes! I like it, but I wanna be inside you. Not cum like this.”

“You’re sensitive again, mhm?”

Yoongi pouts, earning himself a kiss and a chuckle.

“You’re so cute.” You kiss his nose. “How do you want it? I could ride you or I could be on my back? Or do you want to slip inside from behind, mhm?”

“The first one sounds good”, Yoongi squeaks out, gulping. The options you listed are so sexy to think about. He feels droopy.

“Okay, then we’ll do it like this. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready”, he whispers, gazing into your eyes like a love drunk puppy. 

“Put your hands on my waist.”

He obeys because it comes natural to him to obey you. You lift your hips and shimmy into the right position. He looks up at you. His heart races so much. He is so ready. 

You sink him in.

Yoongi widens his eyes and squeezes your waist. A whimper leaves him against his will. 

“Slipped right in, baby. How’s it for you?” you talk to him while you sink down.

Better than anything. Life changing. Unlike anything he could have imagined. The best thing ever. So warm. And soft. So fucking warm. Yoongi has no idea how it is for him because he is currently overwhelmed by it. 

“A lot”, he gets out, tensing his thighs under you. He can barely keep his eyes open, feeling dizzy.

“Try focusing on me, baby. Breathe.”

Yoongi takes the shakiest and quickest breaths ever, fluttering his pretty lashes at you. You cradle his face with both hands, rocking back and forth as you take him in.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Keep breathing, that’s it.”

Yoongi always thought of himself to be someone independent, someone who doesn’t need to be babied and pampered. But to be honest? Being held like this and talked to in such a caring way feels really fucking good. Like, really fucking good.

He bottoms out and you waste no time, picking up the most lethal rhythm you learned. You swirl your hips, bouncing up and down on him as you do. And Yoongi is a goner. He squeezes his eyes shut, scrunching his nose. He gets out half of your name then only manages to create little sounds. Gasps and mewls and even a few whimpers. And he doesn’t even feel embarrassed about it because you hold his face in such a comforting way, which in return makes him feel so goddamn needy for pampering.  

“Pretty, you’re so pretty. And you feel so good, baby. You’ve got the best cock.”

“Be quiet, please”, he croaks, voice slightly pitched and so shaky.

You chuckle, “you’re not into dirty talk?” you ask, knowing very well that this wasn’t the reason why he told you to shut it.

“Please, don’t tease me”, he instantly figures you out, leaning into your touch because it’s so difficult to keep his head held high. He even pouts, cheeks squishing as they melt into your palms.

“I can’t help it, you are so easy to tease”, you whisper and shove him down into the pillow. 

“Ah, wait.”

“You okay?” 

Yoongi reaches behind his own head, pulling out his glasses. He checks them.

“Okay, they’re good. I laid down on my glasses”, he says and puts them on, “now I see you in 4K again.”

You snicker, “you’re a dork”, you lean down and kiss his cheek, “and you’re so much fun to ride”, you add in a sweet coo, clenching down on him to really get the point across.

Yoongi twists the edge of the pillow and throws his head back, mouth agape and throat producing the sweetest moans. You give his nose and chin a kiss each, then sit up to show him how much better it can feel. You put your hands on his chest, playing with his perky nipples as you pick up speed.

“Wait. Slow. Please”, he begs, mewling each time you bury him deep inside you. His body is trembling so much and he feels so much pressure in his stomach. It is so deep and hot, spreading down his legs as well. He is repeating himself here, but this just feel so fucking good.

“You’re so sensitive”, you tease, slowing down for his sake. You keep him buried deep inside, swirling your hips back and forth while you rub your hands up and down his chest.

He looks up at you, lids heavy and cheeks flushed. His hair is hanging into his face messily, his fingers squeeze your hips.

“I can’t help it”, he breathes out, gasping for air afterwards.

“But you like it, don’t you?” you are teasing him, which Yoongi instantly figures out.

“Please”, he squeezes your hips in warning, “don’t tease me right now.”

You chuckle, bending down to mouth at his jawline, fingers playing with his hair.

“Sorry, you’re so fun to tease, baby”, you rasp and tug on his earlobe with your teeth.

Yoongi mewls, bucking his hips up involuntarily. It knocks a moan out of you, which you let him feel against his ear. Of course it drives Yoongi crazy. Why shouldn’t it? He bucks his hips up again, melting into a mess when you moan in reaction. One more time.

“Fucking shit”, he gets out, rolling his head to the side you are at, claiming your lips in a messy kiss. He even cradles the back of your head for it, holding your waist with his other hand as he rolls his hips up. It’s intense like this, but manageable. He can control the speed like this and he has to concentrate on moving, which means his brain isn’t solely zoned in on the hot tingles.

It’s also fucking ecstatic how much this makes you moan. Yoongi gets so high from it, breaking the kiss to whisper against your lips.

“Your pussy’s heaven.”

You shiver, twirling his hair.

“You know that if you talk like this and – ah – fuck like this, I wanna ruin you?”

“Do your worst then”, he challenges, which thinking back, was a very stupid idea.

You give him a dirty smirk and sit up.

“Right thumb on my clit. Now.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Good. Play with it”, you order and lift your hips only to slam them down as you begin your punishing rhythm.

Yoongi thought that he could do as he was told. Nope. His thumb stays unmoving because his brain stops working as you increase the pleasure by a hundred. He shouldn’t have challenged you. What a stupid fucking thing he did. He is going to climax. It’s too intense.

“Slow. Please slow, I don’t wanna cum already please.”

“Nah, you wanted it, so bear it.”

“Fuck, urgh, fuck ___.” he growls, scrunching his face.

“I know, baby, I know. Just keep breathing”, you coo, arching your back so you can dance your hips on him. It feels fucking incredible to you because his cock hits the best spots and his thumb is perfect to grind on.

“I was wrong, I can’t cum yet. Please.”

“But Yoongi, I love when you cum”, you taunt, smiling wickedly.

Yoongi whimpers, arching his back helplessly. There is no way in hell that he can last any longer. You fucking ruin him.

“Please, I really can’t hold it anymore”, he tries again, grasping your waist to the point where he bruises you accidentally.

“Then don’t, baby. Be my good boy and cum for me.”

Yoongi always fantasized about how it would be to have you order him to climax. This fantasy helped him over the edge so many times in the past. And now it’s actually happening and it sounds so much sexier than he could have ever imagined.

Yoongi orgasms with a moan of your name, throwing his hand over his face and twisting his own hair this way. His thumb stutters on your clit as he uses what last strength he has left to keep it there.

“Oh my god, how do you look so sexy when you cum? Fuck Yoongi, you’re making me cum too”, you confess, tightening around him as your own high hits you. Being with him was enough to get you there.

He comes down first, mewling as you ride out your high and therefore overstimulate his poor cock. When you finally come down as well, Yoongi swears that he is one second away from crying, glasses dirty from pressing his arm against it.

“Oh god, baby”, you whisper shakily, dropping on top of him, “baby. Yoongi baby, oh my god”, you babble, cradling his face as you kiss every single inch of it. “Baby, oh my baby. You were amazing, oh baby just come here, you.”

Yoongi feels so good. Yes, what old news, but fuck he feels so good. Is it actually humanly possible to feel so goddamn satisfied and loved and giddy? Because he thinks that he might be doing something inhuman right now with how fuzzy he feels.

“How are you? Are you okay?”

“M’kay”, he gets out, nodding his head.

“Yeah? You’re okay? Was it good for you?”

“Yeah. But so short…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was your first time. It’s allowed to be short. Besides, you held out longer than some others. You even thrusted your hips for a little.”

“I guess. I’m…really tired”, he confesses and exhales deeply, rolling his head to the side to stub your palm with his nose. He kisses it next, smiling in such a giddy and pretty way.

Then he giggles, peeling his droopy eyes open to gaze up at you. You scrunch your nose, giggling with him.

“Did we really do this?” he asks.

“We did.”

“Oh god”, he lets out and giggles even harder.

“I know”, you agree, snuggling into him.

He hugs you, rolling to the side so he could really snuggle into you. His dick slips out of you this way, but this is okay because you are hugging and it’s so nice.

It takes you a while to calm down from your giddy giggles and once you do, you are facing each other, sharing air and gazing into each other’s eyes. He is dancing his fingertips up and down your back, while you dance them over his features. His glasses sit on his face weirdly because of the pillow.

He takes them off, snuggling deeper into the pillow afterwards. 

“They were annoying.”

“I can imagine.”

That the sex was out of the world is written on both your faces. The silence you share is so familiar, but a hundred times more intimate than it was in the past.

“Does it always feel like this?” he whispers.

“So good?”

“Yeah. I feel fucking amazing. Does it always feel this way?”

“Not with everyone, rarely, I don’t know. It felt like this with you.”

Yoongi’s eyes fill with emotion. He takes a deep breath and exhales, cupping your cheek. You lean into the touch, lowering your lids halfway. You still get butterflies when he touches you like this. He is so gentle with it.

“What are we now?” he asks.

“Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“If-”

“Actually, if it’s something bad. Can I get dressed first? I don’t wanna get my heart broken naked” he interrupts you.

You chuckle, “can I finish?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. What I wanted to say was. If we are anything other than boyfriend and girlfriend, I will actually cry. I secretly yearned for you for years.”

“I’m so glad that you said this”, he confesses and blushes.

“You are?”

“Yeah. I feel the same”, he says and meets your eyes.

You squeak, having to giggle afterwards because you are so goddamn giddy. Yoongi giggles with you, kissing you back eagerly when you smooch him. And smooch him. And smooch him again.

“Oh my god, Yoongi baby. You’re my boyfie now?”

“Yeah, I’m your boyfie”, he says in a cute way, heart dancing in his chest. “Can I tell people that I’m your boyfie?”

“Of course, oh wow, you’re making my heart burst.” You start babbling which you always do when you’re happy. “Okay, but I need to take you out on a date tomorrow, I’m serious. A real date. Breakfast. The biggest breakfast ever because the restaurant was already closed tonight.”

“What? You didn’t even get dinner?”

“It’s alright. I snacked on you, didn’t I?” you tease, wiggling your brows.

Yoongi looks away, blushing vividly, “shut up, this isn’t funny”, he mumbles, pouting.

You laugh, “I think it is hilarious actually.”

He meets your eyes fondly, squeezing your waist gently.

“Whatever.”

You smile and run your fingers down his temple. Yoongi lowers his lids in relaxation. 

“What’s gonna happen to us now?” he asks.

“Right now? We should clean up and pee to prevent UTIs and then we could cuddle.”

“No I mean. For the rest of this trip?”

“Are you trying to figure out if I could be down for more sex?”

He blushes, “maybe?”

You snicker and push him onto his back. You put your arm over his chest, holding his hand above his head. Yoongi looks so happy to be where he is. 

“I’d be so down for more”, you tell him, smiling prettily.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Me too. I’m so down”, Yoongi confesses, adding with a blush, “I think I might be obsessed, actually.”

You chuckle fondly and kiss him, knowing that from now on, life will be so much better.