Night Sex With Jungkook / Jungkook X Someone Smut And Moans Audio

night sex with Jungkook / Jungkook x Someone smut and moans audio

Sweet Dreams

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: co-workers to lovers, smut

Summary: You've been working (and flirting) with Jungkook for months now, waiting for him to make a move. When he does, it's not the move either of you expected but it opens the door for you both to get exactly what you want.

Word count: 12.2k

Content: oral sex (f. receiving); unprotected sex; (very) soft dom!JK

A/N: So this started with a request for, iirc, Jungkook coming across reader asleep and her asking him to stay or something like that, and then I wrote two more parts to it lol I have obviously combined them all into one fic here.

Your ability to sleep anywhere was legendary, almost to the point of concern. You’d had the tests – your thyroid was fine, your iron levels were good, everything checked out ok – you just had an extraordinary skill of dropping off anywhere and everywhere. You’d never known a bad night’s sleep nor ever turned down an opportunity to nap. Sure, there are more impressive talents, but your preternatural predilection for passing out in odd spots did come in handy.  

There you were, head on your hand in front of the computer, your right hand still covering the mouse, your notes scattered all around you. Your head nodded slightly and you flinched but didn’t wake up. Jungkook stood watching you for a minute, shaking his head. He wondered how much time you actually spent sleeping in bed as opposed to literally anywhere else. He knew you often slept on the sofa having fallen asleep working or reading or watching TV. He knew you slept on the floor more frequently than was altogether normal, claiming it was ‘good for [your] back’, even though you could afford a decent mattress quite easily. He swore he once saw you sleeping standing up at a party, leaning against the wall in a dark corner. You protested and said of course you wouldn’t have fallen asleep at a party – not least because it would’ve been rude – but he was not convinced. He’d never met anyone who liked sleep as much as he did, who slept as deeply as he did, let alone more.  

He liked it. An odd quirk from an otherwise altogether adult: you were successful, confident, popular, happy, fun etc. You seemed to move through life with ease, despite what it threw at you. You moved with grace and lived with peace in your heart. Maybe that was what enabled you to sleep so easily. It’s certainly what enabled Jungkook’s enormous throbbing crush on you. He admired you with every inhale and was almost intimidated with every exhale. You sparkled in his eyes and in his heart. He felt himself growing into a better person just by being in your presence; he wanted to learn everything you had to teach.  

When you had first met, you were tickled by his shyness. Such a bold performer, such a famous man! And yet such a sweet, little thing telling you how pleased he was to meet you. He’d thought he’d largely got over his shyness; he wasn’t always comfortable with new people or in front of a crowd, but he never let it show. He met people’s eyes with a confident smile and smothered his anxiety with reassuring platitudes. But your aura shone so bright, it knocked him off-guard. He stumbled through his introduction and suddenly felt 16 again. You were gracious and funny and so at ease; he felt like an awkward schoolboy. But before too long, he realised that his anxiety had disappeared, replaced with the warm glow of your attention. You were what he wanted to be. His feelings for you were a foregone conclusion. He’d been desperate to work with you again and again and again, trying not to bring up your name too often, lest he reveal himself (he’d needn’t have bothered, literally everyone already knew); then, as he felt the waves of his heart coming up around his ears, he suddenly panicked, he couldn’t work with you again! He couldn’t let you know how he felt! He dared not. But, was it not a worse fate to not see you again?  

The meeting after his feelings had come to his attention was, in his mind, a disaster. He forgot words in English and Korean; he couldn’t concentrate; he couldn’t not blush every time you looked his way. His heart throbbed throughout the entire 60-minute meeting and he left the room exhausted, sweating prickling his scalp and pooling in his palms. He’d felt such a fool, such a little, lovestruck boy; you’d never see him as a real man, not now.  

Little did he know. You were charmed by him when you first met; admittedly, you didn’t think more of him than that to start with. He was sweet and earnest and – though you hated to admit it now – a little bit try-hard. You hadn’t really taken him seriously. But they kept bringing you back in and, as you got to know him, you saw how much deeper his waters really ran. The fierce grit in this soft, little boy’s heart surprised you; his assertiveness and confidence in himself turned your head. As he argued, one meeting, passionately defending his suggestion, maintaining a perfect balance of the cocksure certainty and deferential politeness, you felt your heart grow. You watched him, a smile spreading on your face, realising too late that you had stopped listening to him, hearing only the blood roaring in your ears. Working with him after that had been even more fun. You loved to flirt with him, just subtly enough that you maintained plausible deniability, and you would see him stutter, watch him get a little hot under the collar. You knew he wasn’t seeing anyone and you didn’t see any harm in it. You weren’t about to make the first move – not with an idol – but you did what you could to let him know that he could. The longer this little flirtation went on, the less sure you were that he might return your feelings, but until or unless he outright rejected you, you were going to carry on having your fun.  

It had been a long day and, though working hours were technically over, you were still sitting at your desk, tapping away. Why was it that the most tedious of tasks were always the longest? You yawned dramatically; does it count as a nap if it’s already 9pm? You figured probably not, but when had that ever stopped you? Resting your head on your hand, you closed your eyes – ‘just five minutes,’ you told yourself.  

It was never just five minutes.  

Sighing and shaking his head, Jungkook approached you quietly. Ever so careful, he pulled your chair out from under the desk and bent down, sweeping you up in his arms. There are very, very few benefits to the compulsively workaholic culture of South Korea, but beds in the office was definitely one. He carried you down the hall to an empty sleeping room, opening the door with his foot, balancing carefully so as not to drop you. He tried hard to focus on carrying you gently, not jostling you or trapping and pulling your hair. He tried hard not to focus on the smell of your shampoo, or the cute, heart-shaped pout of your lips. He tried hard not to notice the weight of your head on his shoulder, the finger that had just slipped between two buttons of his shirt, your nail lightly grazing his skin.  

You were dimly aware of what was happening, not sure if it was real or you were still dreaming. Unable to think clearly – or, let’s be real, at all – you went with it. What’s the worst that could happen? You heard Jungkook grunt quietly as he lowered you down onto a bed. As his arms slipped from underneath you, you found your fingers hooked in his shirt and didn’t let go. You mumbled something incoherent and Jungkook froze. Like a deer in headlights, his heart was racing and he was paralysed with indecision. 

“y/n?” he whispered. 

You mumbled back, again inaudibly, and pulled your hand closer to you, dragging Jungkook with it. Unable to think clearly, he went with it and lowered himself down next to you. He thought he heard you say his name but wasn’t sure he didn’t just imagine it. He lay, stiff, beside you, heart pounding and mind racing. He didn’t know what to do; he hadn’t expected this. Oh, he’d thought about it, no doubt. He’d imagined a thousand of these scenarios over the past few months, but now that it was actually happening, his head was empty. He didn’t know what to do. Your hand still gripped his shirt and you shuffled, resting your head against his chest. You extended one finger and poked him. 

“Jungkook,” you breathed. “Relax.” 

You heard him exhale in a rush and slowly, his arm came around you and you felt him sink lower on the mattress, letting his muscles unclench. You took your hand from the front of his shirt and snaked it beneath his arm, grabbing a handful of the back of his shirt instead, fidgeting so that your knee lay between his legs. He smelt so clean and fresh and not too strong; you realised you’d never actually got quite this up close and personal with him before. You could smell his fabric conditioner and his shampoo and you wondered if he’d just brushed his teeth because his breath was sweet and minty. With your head on his chest, you could feel his heart thudding hard in his chest and you smiled to yourself; if this got him so worked up, you were no longer worried that he might not be interested. You pushed carefully, shifting yourself so that Jungkook was forced onto his back and you lay next to him, half atop him, your hand over his heart, your head on his shoulder, your leg over his waist. All he had to do was reciprocate. You were almost fully asleep again before you felt his arms wrap around you and his head loll to the side so his cheek rested against your head.  

‘This’ll do,’ you thought to yourself as sleep took you away. ‘For now, this’ll do.’ 

* * * 

Jungkook woke with a start. For a second, disoriented, he couldn’t remember where he was. He shuffled away from you in a panic before it came back to him. It was you. Then the panic started again. It was you. Sweat pricked on his back and in his palms and, wiping them on his trousers, he cursed softly, an erection bulging against its fabric containment. He gulped and looked skyward, desperately wishing it would disappear. The thought of you waking up now, at this second, finding him like this, turned his blood cold.  

What time was it? The room was pitch black so there was no seeing the clock on the wall. He was wearing a watch, but it was at the end of the arm currently trapped beneath you. He didn’t dare try to extricate it. He was on his back and if he’d just turn towards you, maybe he could crane his neck and reach over to light up the watch screen to see the time. But if he turned towards you, brought his body closer to yours... He was trying to will his erection away, not encourage it.  

He needed to calm down. This was fine. Probably. This was probably fine. You were still asleep anyway so there weren’t any consequences to speak of yet; he didn’t have to confront anything: you, his feelings... the HR department. He just had to calm down, relax. He took deep breaths and wiggled his toes furiously, trying to direct the blood-flow anywhere else. He had to relax, but not fall back to sleep. That was key.  

Minutes passed, how many, he had no way of knowing. Finally flaccid, he rolled into you, straining his eyes in the dark to see his wrist, raising his other arm, trying to reach it without touching you. An impossible task. Cursing inwardly, he ran through his options: 

1. Go back to sleep 

2. Wake you up 

3. Try to get out without waking you... And then... ??? 

Jungkook knew that number one was not an option. Even if he had wanted to, he knew sleep wouldn’t come again. He considered himself lucky that he awoke, randomly, before you. If you had woken first, what would you have done? He didn’t know, couldn’t even make a guess but he didn’t want to. He might not have had any idea what to do, he might be lying there in torment, but at least it was his decision to make. You made him so flustered; he needed these moments to himself, to compose himself, to work out what he wanted, to consider the possibilities. You were always acting, always doing, and he didn’t have enough time to think around you.  

For that reason, number two was also not an option. He couldn’t wake you. Not yet. He still needed time. It felt like you had crossed a line now, the two of you; things were different. This meant something, he was sure of it, but what exactly it was, he didn’t know. He knew what he wanted, but he was scared of it, too. Dating within the company wasn’t prohibited – a futile endeavour at best – but it was prohibited for idols to date staff members. You technically weren’t a staff member because you were a contractor, but didn’t that still make you an employee? Of sorts?  

You sighed in your sleep and drew him back to the present moment. No, he couldn’t wake you. He could make out the barest silhouette of you in the darkness, could still smell your hair, feel it on his arm, on his cheek. He sighed and chuckled to himself; you were easy like this, he thought. He never got the opportunity he wanted to just revel in your presence. He had to be there, always on, when you were around. He wanted to drink you in, but you moved so fast, you winked at him when he wasn’t expecting it, or touched his shoulder or, god, gave him praise, and his brain short-circuited, needed a reboot. By the time he was back in the room, the moment had passed. Now, though, there you were: silent, still, so close.  

He ran a hand above you, tracing your body in the air with his finger: the peak of your shoulder, the low slope into your waist and soft, round rump, disappearing into nothing, your legs tucked forward in front of you. He imagined touching you: a kiss on the shoulder, an arm around your waist, his leg cocked between yours. He turned his head, his nose buried in your hair, and cursed violently to himself, his cock stirring in his pants again.  

He had to get out of there. Option three it was. 

Taking another couple of minutes to gather himself, he slowly, painfully slowly, pulled his trapped arm from beneath you. Not daring to risk disturbing you further, he tiptoed as quickly as he dared and slipped out of the door.  

The light in the corridor was blinding and he screwed up his eyes, leaning back against the door, waiting for them to adjust to the brightness. 

“Jungkook?” 

He whipped round and his eyes were seared again as he opened them to see who was talking. Hoseok. 

“What are you doing here? It’s 3am!”  

Jungkook stammered, mind searching frantically for an excuse.  

“Uh, oh, I just... I meant to have a nap... Overslept. What are you doing here?” 

“Working.” Hoseok shrugged, taking steps towards the lifts at the end of the corridor. “No rest for the wicked! You should go home, though, Jungkook; it’s no life sleeping at the office!” 

“Says you.” 

“Ah, I know, but … Do as I say, not as I do!” He laughed and disappeared into a lift, waving.  

Jungkook was suddenly aware his mouth was dry. He needed a drink. That’s what he would do. He’d go and get some water and then decide what he was going to do about... everything else.  

* * * 

You rolled over, imagining you were in your bed at home and, brain slowly surfacing, realising that you weren’t. The room was so dark, it offered no clues. You tried to remember what had happened but you couldn’t work out what was real and what you must have dreamt. You were certainly alone in the bed (if not the room), so you assumed you had imagined JK sleeping behind you. But, if he hadn’t carried you, how did you get there? You raised a hand to rub your face and caught yourself, not wanting to ruin your make-up. Then you figured you’d already been sleeping in it so you rubbed anyway and then slapped yourself lightly, trying to wake up. If Jungkook had been here, where was he now? When did he leave? And was he coming back?  

You wondered if you had pushed him too far. You liked that he was skittish with you; it was cute and you loved provoking a reaction, but was this too much? It certainly crossed some sort of line, although you weren’t entirely sure which. You were used to running this little game, flirting with him so he lost his concentration, but this was all him. You didn’t know what was running through his mind – then or now. You felt like it had to be him to make the next move, but would he? What would it be? 

You sat and fumbled for the switch, the bedside lamp suddenly shining. You looked away, opening your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. You could now make out the clock on the opposite wall – 3am? You groaned. This was certainly not what you had planned. It’s also really not how you’d have wanted your first night spent with Jungkook to go. You wondered where he had gone. Maybe you really had imagined things and he had just put you down and left. But then you recalled the scent of his fabric conditioner, the warmth of his body below you. It was too real to have been imagined.  

You waited a few minutes, you weren’t really sure what for, and then stood to leave. You remembered with a start all of your belongings – where were they now? Had Jungkook tidied them away somewhere? Had someone else? It was unlikely that they’d have been stolen, but anything was possible. You muttered under your breath, cursing your earlier self. 

‘Just five minutes, my fucking arse.’ 

You opened the door and immediately shut it again. Why did the company keep so many lights on all night? What was the point? Was there anyone besides you even in the building? You closed your eyes and opened the door, taking time to open both fully, allowing your eyes to adjust. Then you headed for the lifts.  

You weren’t even wearing shoes and you were sure you looked a state so you were glad it was so dead. You were relieved to go back to the office you were working in to see that everything was still there. You slipped your shoes back on first and trotted quickly to the bathroom; you might not be seen looking frightful but that didn’t mean you wanted to look it. You swiped a hand under your eyes and grabbed the hair tie in your pocket, pulling it all into a messy bun on the top of your head. You returned to the office, gathered your things and headed back downstairs, asking the 24-hour receptionist to get you a car – a perk you’d not, until now, had cause to use but for which you were incredibly grateful.  

As you were driven back to your apartment in the dead of night, you fingered your phone uncertainly. Should you text him? What would you say? You weren’t due back for another meeting until next week and it felt far too far away to not say anything. You were too tired to think. You’d just get to it in the morning. You yawned widely, thinking of your bed.  

* * * 

When Jungkook returned to the room, two glasses of water in his hands, he discovered it empty. He had tiptoed in, walking gingerly in case he stubbed his toes or banged into something, but when he reached the bed, he saw you had gone. He might have discounted option one and chosen option three, but he was disappointed. He knew that he had woken with a panic and floundered, worrying about what to do, but now that the options had been taken away from him, he lamented his inaction. He left the room once more and found his way back to where you had been working: empty. Desk clear of your things: notes, laptop, phone, pens, snack wrappers, mug. He wasn’t sure where to go after that. The obvious answer was home, but it just didn’t seem an appealing thought at that moment. Jungkook was disappointed; disappointed that you’d left, but mostly disappointed in himself. So much thinking, so much worrying that he was always missing his opportunities. Tonight had been just such an opportunity, he told himself, and once again, he had missed it.  

He pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment. He unlocked it and brought up your message thread and stared at it for a moment longer. He took a deep breath and held it as he typed and sent. 

JK: Are you at home?’ 

You: On my way. Are you? 

He hadn’t expected you to reply! I mean, of course he had, because that’s how messaging worked but he hadn’t thought that far ahead. What to say now? 

JK: No, still at work. Did you take a car? 

You: Yeah. You should go home soon, too; it’s late  You: Well, early 😂 

JK: I will 

He wanted to make a joke or at least say something interesting but his mind was blank. He regretted messaging you; now you would just think him boring. He hit his forehead with his phone a few times and sighed. Maybe it was home time. Go to bed, get some rest, it’ll all look better in the morning etc. etc. He called another car and left. He didn’t bother collecting his things; he’d be back in less than six hours anyway.  

He sat in the car, staring at his phone, willing you to message again, acknowledge what had happened, make a joke, say anything. But his silent pleas didn’t meet you and his phone remained lifeless.  

* * * 

It had been a long week. You hadn’t seen Jungkook, nor had you spoken to him. You carried the tension around with you everywhere; you couldn’t concentrate; you made mistakes at work, which never happened. For the first time ever in your life, you couldn’t sleep. Every time you lay in your bed, you remembered his warm body and it turned you cold. You remembered lying so close to him on that tiny bed made for one and your own bed felt like the Pacific ocean; you were drowning in it. You passed someone on the street wearing Jungkook’s cologne and you almost turned to follow him. No one had ever put you off your game like this. It wouldn’t do. Whatever he had started had to end.  

The day finally came when you were due back at the office. A whole team meeting this time, not your favourite on any occasion, but especially not now. You knew Jungkook would be on time or late, but not early when you really needed him to be. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to get through the meeting with him there, on the other side of the table (the same side?), looking at you, talking to you. You rolled your eyes at yourself that, all this time, you’ve been teasing him, flirting with him, enjoying making him flustered, and all it took for him to turn the tables was... almost nothing. Lying together. The smell of his shampoo, the soft wash of his sweet breath against your cheek, his heavy arm across you. He had done more to unravel you by doing nothing than you could ever have hoped to do to him, using all your charms and wiles.  

You needed to regroup so you found an empty bathroom, with five minutes to go, and gave yourself a good talking to. A quick, sharp slap, one cheek, then the other, a quick power stance, and a final once-over in the full-length mirror to remind yourself that you are a confident, capable, sexy woman who can do whatever the fuck she wants and won’t let anyone, any man, get in the way.  

You stormed to the meeting room, full of bluster, and took your seat, breathing a small sigh of relief that he hadn’t arrived yet – at least you got to settle in first.  

Then the meeting started and the chair rattled through the apologies: first up, Jungkook. Your head snapped round at the mention of his name. He wasn’t coming? You had been dreading seeing him again, but... not seeing him again? You couldn’t focus on that now. You had work to do.  

When the meeting ended (and it had gone very well, thank you very much), you suddenly felt the full force of Jungkook’s absence. It wouldn’t do. You had to put a stop to this. You cornered his assistant (who was there to cover for him) and asked where he was. She looked like she didn’t want to answer, but the moment passed, and she let you know he was in a meeting for another hour, two floors up. She didn’t give you the room number, but that was fine.  

You made your way to the right floor and, for possibly the first time, you were pleased that every single new building in the world seemed to be made of 90% glass. You peered surreptitiously into meeting rooms until you spotted that oh so familiar back of his head. Then you found an empty room in view of it and sat and waited. As soon as you saw them all stand to move, you did the same.  

“Jungkook!”  

He span and looked surprised to see you, his mouth hanging open. 

“Do you have a minute?” 

His mouth stayed hanging open and he blinked, like a deer in headlights. You gestured to the room you had been occupying.  

“I think this room should still be free; can we talk?” 

He blinked again and flickered to life. He shook his head. 

“No... No, let’s not talk there. Um... come- come with me.” 

You followed him into the lift and were about to open your mouth when two others joined you. You held them back, pressure in your chest expanding; you were right to insist on this. You had to talk. You had to get this sorted. Something had changed and you knew your working relationship wasn’t sustainable anymore. You cursed him; as much as you wanted him (and you closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the warmth of him around you, his soft hand over yours...), you couldn’t go on any longer without touching him, without telling him. Flirting wasn’t going to be enough anymore. You had to have him; you had to make him yours. Just standing this close to him and unable to reach out was making your heart race. His hair shone in the light and you imagined running your hands through it, pushing it off his face. You saw his fist clench and unclench by his side and you wanted to hold it, give it a squeeze, run your thumb across his knuckles, bring it to your lips. Your heart skipped a beat and you rolled your eyes at yourself. So much for having a job to do. 

Jungkook led you silently down an unfamiliar corridor and showed you into a room. It was a studio (his?): one wall taken up with speakers and monitors, a huge desk with any number of buttons and boards and switches across it.  

“I thought it would be better to have some privacy,” he said, you thought a little sheepishly, as he gestured for you to sit on the sofa. You moved towards it but stopped. 

“No, I don’t want to sit.” 

“Ok.” 

“Right. I want to establish some facts.” You would have loved to have been gentler, sweet even, but that’s just not really who you were. “One: you picked me up and put me to bed here last week.”  

Jungkook said nothing. 

“Right? You did that?” 

“Oh, uh, yes. Not here here, but yeah here.” 

“Ok and two you did sleep with me here-, not sleep with me sleep with me, but we... we slept.” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok and you did that because...?” 

His eyes widened again and he stuttered. That you had him flustered brought a spark to your heart, like old times. 

“Ok that’s fine, I’ll go.” You shook your hands out and clicked your neck. “I wanted you to stay; I wanted to sleep with you so I more or less asked you to. Sleep with you, I mean, like, sleep, just- just sleeping.” 

“Ok... I put you to bed because you looked uncomfortable and it was late and I thought you should sleep in a bed for once.” 

You physically took a step backwards. That was it? Was that... it? Had you read this all wrong? You couldn’t be wrong. No. No time for thinking. Powering through. You were powering through. 

“Three, you left.” 

“I, what?” 

“Sometime that night, you left, right?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, well... I left to get some water and then you had left when I got back.” 

“Oh... Ok. Ok, so... um... So you were coming back then?” 

“Well-” he paused and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He perched on the edge of the desk and then stood straight again, kicking his heel against his toe, chewing on his lip ring. His nervous energy was making you nervous, well, more nervous. The pressure in your chest was rising and you felt like you would have to do something soon if he didn’t stop moving, if he didn’t do anything. 

He flopped onto the sofa heavily and looked up at you, inscrutable. You were so used to being able to see everything on his face that this unreadable gaze made your mouth dry. 

“I like you,” he said simply. “I like you and I... wanted to be... close to you. You-… You...” He sighed and it came out almost like a whine. “You make me stupid! You make me feel so... so dizzy and silly  and flustered and you flirt with me and I want to flirt back with you but you turn my brain into a white noise machine and I can’t do it; I always miss it. I’m always on the back foot. I can flirt, you know, I really can, but you just... you just... You make me stupid! I can’t think around you; I can’t concentrate; you’re like a magnet scrambling all my signals; when you’re around, you’re north and I can’t point anywhere else. And you were sleeping and I just thought, god, she’s sleeping, I can do something for her. I can do something where she won’t see me as a stupid, brainless boy; I can take care of her... I just... I wanted to be close to you.” 

You hadn’t expected that. It was your turn to goldfish at him, your mind buffering. 

“And then I woke up in the night and I panicked.” A deep blush bloomed over his cheeks and you wondered why. “I didn’t want you to wake up and- I don’t know. It felt like we were in a moment and I didn’t want it to end; I didn’t want to ruin it. If you woke up, I would just be stupid again and I don’t... I don’t want you to see me as stupid anymore.” 

You laughed, just a chuckle to start with but then a full-throated laugh bubbled up and you couldn’t stop it. You laughed until your eyes watered. You couldn’t look at his sweet, sad, innocent face without collapsing into giggles. You turned around, away from him, and gathered yourself.  

“Jungkook,” you said, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your mirth in check. “Jungkook.” You pulled him by the hand so he was standing in front of you and then, placing both hands on his face, kissed him firmly on the mouth. You felt him flinch a little and then he responded, his hands finding your waist and his lips moving against yours. You pulled away but kept your face close. “You’re not a boy to me, Jungkook.” You moved your hands across his shoulders and down his arms, strong, smooth, muscular. You felt him squeeze your waist, just gently, and his eyes poured his soul out into yours.  

“Oh,” he breathed.  

You kissed him again, softer this time, sucking his bottom lip gently, just for a second. When you pulled away, his eyes looked almost glazed and he swallowed, blinking hard.  

“Are you an employee here?” he asked, throwing you completely.  

You stepped backwards, out of his aura just slightly to gather yourself. You searched his face for any clues to the background of this non-sequitur. 

“What?” 

“Are you an actual employee here or freelance or something else?” 

“I... Freelance.” 

“Oh, good.”  

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

He grinned sheepishly. 

“Idols aren’t allowed to date employees.” 

You laughed softly as you exhaled.  

“I take it back: maybe you’re right. Maybe you are stupid.”  

Jungkook squeezed his hands tight and scrunched up his face.  

“Too late, cat’s out the bag now. You can’t take those kisses back even if you want to.”  

You noticed the cocky smirk sneak onto his face and were about to try to wipe it clean off when he lowered his head and kissed you. He wrapped his arms around you, resting one hand on the small of your back, the other reaching up to brush the hair from your face. Warmth radiated from him, a trail of fire left behind wherever he touched you. You leant into him, running your hands through his hair just as soft as you’d expected. He licked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him, unable to stop the quiet moan rising in your throat as your tongues rolled against each other. You were lost in him, the rest of the world a quiet blur, unimportant. He pulled away, leaving light kisses on your cheeks, your jaw, and, just as he pressed his lips against your neck, your phone rang.  

You both jumped, brought abruptly back down to earth. You fumbled with your phone and answered when you saw it was your manager. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, we were expecting you at this meeting; are you dialling in?” 

Oh fuck. Had it been that long already? What was the time? You had been so caught up with Jungkook, you had completely forgotten that this was supposed to be a normal workday, with actual work to do and meetings to attend and not just Jungkooks to kiss. 

You apologised profusely and promised you would dial in within the next minute. Jungkook said you were fine to take the meeting in his studio; he wasn’t going to be using it. He would leave you to it. As he stood with his hand on the door, he turned to you, grinning. 

“Maybe this is why they don’t let idols date staff?”  

* * * 

You sighed and put your head in your hands. The meeting went fine, all things considered, but when the project manager then asked you to stay on the line, in order to ask very sweet and well-meaning questions about how you were doing at the moment, you had started to sweat. Instead of using the time before the meeting to go over your notes and prepare, you had been in here with Jungkook, decidedly not working. It showed. As you span in Jungkook’s chair and took in all the details of his studio, it was decided. You absolutely had to get out of there and get your head back in the game. You took a few deep breaths, gathered your things and opened the door... Only to immediately stumble upon Jungkook, who was sitting on the floor outside.  

“Ah! Wh-, uh, what are you doing down there?” 

He grinned up at you. 

“I was just waiting. I actually do need to use the studio today-” He stood up and cut you off as you were about to interrupt him and led you back inside. 

“Jun-” 

“It’s fine!” he argued, resting his hands against your hips. “I told you it was fine and it’s fine.” He pressed his lips against your neck and you groaned, trying not to give in to him.  

“You’re going to get me fired, Jeon,” you told him in a warning tone, all the while raking your hand through his hair, gripping his arm tight. 

“I would never let them do that.” His words were muffled, mouth barely lifted from your skin. His lips found yours again and stole the reply ready on yours. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered, pulling back just a little, to look into your eyes and nuzzle your nose.  

“If you’d made that clear, just think for how long we could’ve been doing it already!”  

He snapped his teeth in front of you and hushed you.  

“How did I know if you wanted it?” 

“Oh, you think I flirt with everyone like that, Jungkook?!”  

He giggled and wrapped his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek and your temple.  

“Well, no...”  

“Because, actually, I have one of you at every company I work with.” 

“Oh yeah?” You could feel him smirk as he squeezed you at the waist. “Tell me about them.” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but he placed a kiss just underneath your jaw, starting a trail of little, sucking kisses down your neck and your brain buffered. He hummed with his lips against you and all that came out of your mouth was a tiny, whimpering sigh.  

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He brought his face back to yours and his eyes were dark and certain.  

You chuckled a little breathlessly, amazed at the change in him: suddenly so confident, putting you on the backfoot. You liked it.  

“Where was all this attitude before?”  

“One of us had to keep it professional.”  

You laughed out loud as he followed that statement up with another kiss, his thumb just barely slipping under your blouse, stroking your skin.  

“And now?”  

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door, startling you both. Jungkook groaned and closed his eyes, looking as if he hoped whoever was out there would go away. They didn’t. 

“JK!” Yoongi’s voice called from the other side of the door as he knocked again.  

“Y’know, if they fired us both, we could just leave now and not be interrupted anymore,” Jungkook suggested, bringing his mouth back to yours.  

“Tempting...”  

Yoongi knocked on the door again and you broke apart with a sigh. If either of you was to get any work done that day, then it was absolutely necessary for you to part, then and there, but that didn’t mean you wanted to.  

“What are you doing tonight?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Good. I’m going to take you out.”  

“Where shall I meet you?” 

Jungkook scoffed. 

“Meet me? I’m going to come and pick you up. We’re going to do this properly.” 

“Is that right?” 

 Jungkook pressed his lips firmly against yours one final time before finally letting you go and stepping back.  

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said as he moved towards the door, preparing to open it to let you out and Yoongi in. You bit your lip; you hoped you would discover just how much Jungkook liked to take charge. You might act like a boss, but that’s just what made it all the more satisfying when you found someone to put you in your place. Sometimes it’s nice not to be in control of everything. He winked at you as you passed him to exit his studio and you blushed, a real-life blush. You could barely look Yoongi in the eye.  

* * * 

You had never been this nervous for a date before. They’re usually for getting to know someone, usually someone you don’t know that well – or maybe haven’t even met yet – usually, you don’t really worry about it going wrong, or doing something embarrassing, because the stakes are so low. At worst, it’s an awful hour of your time that you won’t get back, so what’s the fuss?  

This was different, though. You knew Jungkook. And now you’d tasted him. All day, your mind kept wandering back to his studio, his lips on yours, the unyielding metal of his lip ring between your soft lips, his secure grip on your waist, his hard body pressed against yours. How were you supposed to sit through an entire dinner on the opposite side of the table from him? How were you supposed to see his hands and not think about them on your body? Look into his eyes without imagining them looking up at you through his lashes, his tongue disappearing inside you? How were you going to sit there with him so tantalisingly close to you, able to touch him but not allowed?  

You took a cold shower that evening. You slipped on your favourite third-date dress; this wasn’t a third date, of course, but it certainly didn’t have the vibes of a first date. Besides which, this is the dress you wore when you wanted to get lucky and god, have you ever wanted to get luckier. 

* * * 

Jungkook was nervous. Extremely nervous. He hoped these nerves would melt away as soon as he saw you; he hoped he could kiss you hello and that that would settle the butterflies in his stomach. He hoped he somehow hadn’t just imagined everything that had happened that morning. He still couldn’t believe it. You had a point, of course; he knew you had been flirting with him all this time, but he still couldn’t believe that it had actually happened. Finally. He was kicking himself for not having acted before, for letting you take the lead again. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t make that mistake another time. He meant it when he said he didn’t want to be a silly, brainless boy around you anymore. If you could see him as a man even when he felt like that, then so could he. Even knowing that you did made him feel stronger, more like the Jungkook he wanted to be.  

He thought about the smell of your hair and the taste of your lips and the tiny, quiet noises you had made as he kissed you. He didn’t dare let himself think about what other noises he might get you to make. He had chosen a restaurant as private as it could be, without it being... too private, so private it would make it weird. It was a little place, not fancy, just somewhere he went often enough that he knew the couple who ran it and knew they wouldn’t disturb the two of you and would be discreet. 

He was early to pick you up but didn’t want to rush you if you weren’t ready so he sat in his car, anxiously tapping the steering wheel, watching the minutes tick past, painfully slowly. He hadn’t been to your place before and he looked up at the building, wondering if you had any windows on this side, wondering what you were doing at that moment, what you were feeling. He didn’t expect you would be nervous, at least not as nervous as he was. Part of him hoped you would be. He imagined turning the tables on you, making you flustered, watching you splutter. Now that the floodgates had opened, now that he was allowed to flirt back, to kiss you and touch you, and get as riled as he liked, he couldn’t wait to show you what he could do.  

* * * 

Your doorbell rang and you jumped, even though you had been watching the door for ten minutes. You stood, slipped into your shoes, and took a deep breath before opening the door. There he was. Neither of you could stop your eyes roving over the other; this was the first time you’d met outside of work.  

“You look nice,” he said, taking the words right out of your mouth. 

“I was about to say the same to you.” 

“Beat ya!” 

You rolled your eyes and stepped out, expecting him to step back so you could walk down the hall, but he simply welcomed you into his arms, drawing you closer with his deep, dark eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest at the unexpected close contact and then again when he lowered his face to yours and kissed you, ever so lightly.  

“Ready?” he asked, his face still so close to yours. You swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Yep, let’s go.”  

* * * 

The fact that you were in public forced you to put some space between the two of you and you were relieved. It meant your heartrate could settle and you were finally able to drag your mind out of the gutter.  

He had ordered for you both and he was calm and cool, chatting with the owners, and your heart fell open watching him, remembering that there was so much more to life than work and you knew none of what that looked like for Jungkook. You imagined him coming here the first time and then again, and then again and again, this familiarity settling in place so that they knew what he liked to order and he knew about her mother-in-law’s arthritis and the new restaurant on the next street they were worried would hurt their business.  

Part of you had thought this would be strange, awkward, uncomfortable, your nerves jangling in your chest like chimes on a windy day. Another part of you had thought you would be rabid, impatient, frustrated, bored of talking, desperate to get to the action. You had been wrong. It was comfortable and you laughed and joked and he showed you that he really did know how to flirt. Your nerves made you skittish, excited, the anticipation of the moment when his hand brushed lightly over yours almost more powerful than the touch itself. Your barely concealed desire, simmering just below the surface, made that touch burn, scorching through to your core. You were giddy, giggly, silly. He made you feel champagne drunk, up to your ears in light golden bubbles.  

As before, in his studio, gone was the timidity, the shy, flustered Jungkook replaced by one confident, almost cocky, smirking at you when he noticed you blushing. He winked at you as you took a sip of your drink and you almost choked. You could’ve felt annoyed at the way he had turned the tables on you, but you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You liked this Jungkook: this is the Jungkook who caught your attention in the first place. You wanted him to make you flustered, wanted him to look at you like he knew your every dirty secret, like he might make your every dirty fantasy come true.  

Jungkook was happy. He had thought about this first date for a long time and it was going even better than he had imagined. He had been so nervous he could have puked before he saw you. But then there you were and he remembered. He remembered how much he liked you and he remembered that quiet, whimpering sigh as he’d kissed your neck and his nerves evaporated. 

He couldn’t believe the change in you. The way you looked away, the faintest blush on your cheeks, when he held your gaze too long; the way you almost flinched when he touched you; your wide-eyed, slightly open-mouthed gaze. He was glad he knew the owners, for privacy reasons, but also because he knew they liked him and that they would think twice about that if he swept all their crockery onto the floor and took you right on top of the table like he wanted to. He kept thinking about your pretty mouth, how sweet your lips looked, how much sweeter they might look wrapped around his cock. When you looked up at him, deliberately coy, through your lashes, he wanted to see you on your knees.  

How many times he’d had these fantasies he couldn’t count and now, here you were, real, in the flesh, sitting across from him, laughing at his jokes, licking your lips, looking at him like you had stars in your eyes. He’d seen that look a thousand times, a hundred thousand times, but this one was different. Yours said something other than ‘I’m your biggest fan’; yours said something that couldn’t be uttered aloud in public. Yours said something he wanted you to say quietly in the dead of night, naked in his bed.  

When the plates had been cleared away and the restaurant was empty but for the two of you, Jungkook leant forward on his forearms, taking your hands in his. This was the part he had not been looking forward to. This was the part where, once again, he couldn’t just be a normal guy out on a date with a normal woman.  

“Y’know what I want to do?” he asked as you leant forward, too. He reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear and you turned, demure, coy, shy.  

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice only just level. 

“I want to take you by the hand and walk by the river. I want you to shiver when the wind blows so I can take off my jacket and give it to you. I want to stop suddenly, and pull you back by the hand, spin you round so I can kiss you in public and not care who sees. I want to see you in the moonlight and remember it for a thousand years to come.” 

You were crimson and hot; your heart fluttering in your chest. You had expected filth; he had delivered romance. You wanted to fan yourself; you needed the cool air of a breeze to sweep in and reset your core body temperature to normal levels. Your mouth was dry and you wished your glass weren’t empty. You were silent in response, speechless. 

“You know we can’t do any of that, though, right?” he asked.  

“Yeah, I know. I understand.” 

“There’s other things I want, too.”  

His voice was lower, eyes darker, and you swallowed hard, a low heat settling in your abdomen. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. But I want you to know that it’s not all I want. I’m all in. And I need you to be all in, too. I might not be able to kiss you in public but I want you to know that I want to. I want you. I don’t mind telling you that I’ve wanted this for a long time.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes, grinning. “But I guess you already know that.”  

“Oh, I’m in.” 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your certainty. You had been flirting with him for months; you had been so sweet on this date;,he had almost forgotten who you were. You were a woman who knew what she wanted. You were a woman who got what she wanted. 

“Shall we get out of here?”  

You stood before he could give you an answer and he grinned at you. You walked, a polite distance from each other, to the car he’d parked behind the restaurant. He opened the passenger door for you and you watched him walk around to the other side, watched him slide in, punch it into drive, and then pause. He put it back into park and looked at you.  

“I need you to know how badly I want to kiss you right now. I need you to know that because I’m going to need you to remind me that speed limits and red lights exist. I’m not a bad driver, I’m not a dangerous driver, but god, if it means I can kiss you even one second sooner, I’m going to-” 

You put a hand to his mouth. 

“Can’t kiss you if I’m dead, JK. Eyes on the road and keep your head up here, ok?” You tap him on the temple. Then you move closer to him, leaning across the central console to whisper in his ear. “Trust me, your patience will be rewarded.” 

“Fuck.”  

You leant back in your seat and looked at him. He was blinking hard, staring off into the distance. 

“Well… Now I’m going to need a minute.”  

He clicked his neck as you laughed, and then he gripped the steering wheel tight, looking straight ahead. You waited, just taking him in, filling your mind with fantasies about what you would do when you got back to your apartment.  

* * * 

You made it in one piece to your building and stood outside your front door. 

“So,” you began, your hand on the doorknob. “You gonna come inside?” 

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, his tongue in his cheek. 

“That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” 

You opened the door and wasted no time, shedding your shoes and your coat, letting them fall where they may. You dropped your bag on the counter and turned to Jungkook, who was slowly slipping of his own shoes, stooping to pick your coat up off the floor and hang it on a hook. 

“What are you-? What happened to ‘if I can kiss you one second sooner…’?” 

He turned to you, like the cat who’d got the cream already. 

“I thought about it.”  

He walked closer, as if he were stalking prey, and rested his hands on either side of you against the counter.  

“I have thought about this a lot and I don’t want to rush it.”  

He took a deep breath and pulled back just enough to let his eyes rove down your body and back up, his tongue running over his lips, his teeth tugging at his lip ring.  

“Nah, I want to take my time with you.”  

His dark eyes fixed on yours and you heard yourself swallow, heard your heard beating so fast it was humming.  

“You’ve got time, right?”  

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, hoarse. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’ve got time.” 

Jungkook removed his hands from the counter and placed them on your waist, pulling you into him as he lowered his head to kiss you. You couldn’t have stopped the high-pitched sigh that came out of you if you’d tried. The relief of his lips finally on yours, the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours made your bones soft and your muscles weak. You didn’t know how long Jungkook was going to make you wait, just exactly what he meant by taking his time; you didn’t know if you would survive but you were one hundred percent willing to find out.  

He had you backed against the counter so hard, it was digging into your back, your bodies pressed so close you could feel his erection grow in his trousers, pressing against your front. You wanted to grind your hips against him, but you were pinned so tight, you couldn’t move. You pulled away, turned your head to break the kiss. 

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Take me…” You raised an arm in the direction of your bed and he flicked his eyes in its direction for a split second before they were back on you, before he was kissing you again, stepping backwards, taking you with him.  

He turned when he reached the bed and pushed you onto your back, climbing over you, pausing to look down at your chest with his lip between his teeth.  

“Fuck, I like you so much.”  

You laughed and he laughed – you almost thought you saw him blush – and he leant down on his forearms, nuzzling your nose with his. You brought your hands up to cup his face. 

“You know you’re cute, right?”  

He giggled and you were sure he was blushing now. He kissed you quickly on the nose and then on the cheek, then buried his face in your neck, turning your giggles to whimpers as his teeth found your skin, as he sucked light bruises onto you.  

You pulled your hands between you, gripping his shirt, fumbling with the buttons but he mumbled against your skin and reared up, taking your wrists in his hands and pinning your hands above your head.  

“I meant it when I said I’m taking my time, missy. You just keep those hands to yourself.” He bent as if to kiss you again and stopped halfway. “For now.” 

You swore softly to yourself, your underwear so uncomfortably wet, your nipples hard against the fabric of your dress. He let your hands go as he let his own explore your body, one teasing at the hem of your dress and the other kneading your breast. His mouth moved down and he pulled your dress with it, taking you into his mouth, swirling with his tongue, biting with his teeth. You pull hard on his hair and he releases you with a wet pop. 

“Too hard?” 

“No, no, I liked it… More. I want more.” 

“In that case, what did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?” 

You whined as you let his hair go and returned your hand above you. He kissed you in the valley of your breasts. 

“Oh, look at my good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck. Jungkook, shit. I like it. Please call me that again.” 

He laughed darkly. 

“Only if you behave yourself.”   

You hadn’t imagined he’d be like this. You hadn’t imagined it would be like this at all. But this was better than you’d imagined. So much better. Your whole body pulled towards his, every cell screaming for his touch, your heart yearning for his approbation. You needed it. Needed him. You knew you’d do whatever he asked without a second’s hesitation. Fuck. Suddenly, you were his.  

Jungkook chuckled to himself as he sank his teeth hard into the soft flesh around your nipple, cock throbbing at the keening, whining, mewling sounds you made when he did. He pushed your dress up, fingers grabbing at the waistband of your underwear, tugging awkwardly down with one hand. But then your hands were there, too, your hips raised as you slipped them down. He took hold of them from the gusset and tugged, his hand coming away wet when you lifted your knees to kick them off your ankles.  

“Oh, fuck, is all this for me?” 

“Yes, Jungkook, yes. Please.” 

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load before he’d even got his dick out of his pants. You were more than he had imagined: the sounds you made, the way you said his name, how pliable, how obedient you were. He couldn’t have written you this perfect in his own fantasy. He wanted this to last forever. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect world to live in than this: you beneath him, hot and wet and begging for him. He wanted to make you scream; he wanted you to come thunderously, clapping his head between your thighs, suffocating, drowning him; he wanted you to come gushing into his face.  

He pressed two fingers into you with a long, drawn-out curse; you swore repeatedly, gasping, whining, trying to tip your hips, grind yourself into his hand. As you moved, he stopped moving. As soon as he started again, so did you. Then he stopped. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Don’t try to run this show. I’m going to give you what I want, ok?” 

“Oh god, ok, ok, ok.”  

You lay still, desperately trying not to move as he curled his fingers inside you, as his thumb rubbed circles over your clit. You gripped your bedsheets tight in your fists, looked to the ceiling for strength, gritted your teeth, tensed your legs, pulling your feet up to your buttocks just to move some part of you. Jungkook hummed appreciatively and scooted backwards on his knees, pressing kisses to your inner thighs.  

His hand moved slowly in you – too slowly, torturous – and his mouth made slow progress towards your burning heat. He meant it when he said he would take his time. Just as his mouth made it to the crease of your thigh, he removed his fingers entirely, sat back, looked at the anguish on your face at the loss of him and grinned. He sucked his fingers clean of you, moaning performatively for you, palming at his dick through his clothes, pre-cum soaking through his boxers as he looked at you. Dripping wet and puffy, you were dark and slick and inviting. His mouth watered and he gulped.  

“Jungkook,” you whispered and it broke his reverie. 

“Yes?” 

“Please can you touch me? Please. I need you.”  

He groaned as his cock twitched and he looked skyward just as you had only moments earlier, before he clicked his neck and winked at you. 

“Since you asked so nicely, beautiful, yes I will.” 

He pushed your legs apart, spreading your thighs against the mattress, and then he licked a broad stripe from your slit to your clit and the sound that left you was loud, wanton, indulgent. He did it again, drinking you in, and again and again and then he flicked at your pulsing little pearl with the tip of his tongue. He rubbed the flat of his tongue over you; he licked through your folds; he took your lips in his and you cried out when he clamped his teeth down on them, remembering at the very last moment, as your fingers grazed his hair, that he had told you to keep your hands to yourself. He hummed with his lips sealed around your clit and then he looked up at you. 

He had felt you squirm as he’d bitten down and he had felt your hand in his hair. He was about to release you, to remind you of the rules, and then it disappeared and returned to fist the bedsheets beside you and he groaned. His cock was painfully hard, throbbing, leaking, hot and turgid and he shuddered. God, you were so good. He had expected you to protest, to argue, to tease, to show off, to fight back, to be as you are outside the bedroom: bold and assertive and strong. He’d have loved putting you in your place, no doubt about it, but this? Your complete surrender to him, no questions asked? Just obedience, acquiescence, submission? He moaned, determined to get you off before he lost control of himself completely.  

It was getting difficult not to move, not to writhe, to squirm, to grind your hips into Jungkook’s mouth as you got closer and closer to your climax. You were trembling, shivering, your whole body juddering towards it like a cart ascending a rollercoaster track. In much the same way, your stomach lurched as your orgasm thundered through you. Like being tipped off a cliff, free-falling, you lost all sense of your body, nerves on fire, every inch of you screaming Jungkook’s name. He pinned you down hard, but you couldn’t stop yourself shaking, convulsing, bucking, overstimulated. Whimpering, your thighs clamped shut against his head and you felt him chuckle, the vibrations making you squirm.  

Jungkook let you lock him between your legs. He was more than happy there. Letting you soak his face, he pushed two fingers back inside your quivering cunt, hooking them hard against your front wall as he sucked on your clit. You tumbled from one orgasm to the next, spots dancing in front of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps. It was like you were being split, atom by atom, separating your body from your soul. Your vision going black, breath trapped in your chest now. You were so sure you’d pass out, overstimulated, overloaded, overwhelmed. But then Jungkook let you go, pulling your legs from his head, pressing small kisses to your stomach as he crawled over you.  

His face swam in front of you and when he finally fell into focus, a hysterical giggle left your mouth. The smile on his face was so warm and sincere that, were it not for his hair on end and your arousal all around his mouth, you might never have guessed he’d just mercilessly ripped two towering, crashing orgasms from you.  

“What’s funny?” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, your mind addled. You covered your face with your hands and had to wait for it to pass, wait for the moment to stop feeling absurd, surreal, wait for yourself to return to your body, your mind.  

When it did and you dropped your hands from your face, Jungkook had shed his clothes and the sight of him there, his naked body, his tumescent, leaking cock very nearly knocked your mind straight back out again.  

“I really like you,” you said, your voice almost plaintive in its trembling.  

It was his turn to laugh this time.  

“Yeah, yeah, I bet that’s just the orgasms talking.” 

“No, really.”  

You reached out and grabbed his hand and he climbed over you to lie by your side. He cupped your cheek and kissed you, all sticky and sweet.  

“I really do,” you insisted and he kissed you again. “I really like you.”  

“Isn’t that why we’re doing this, hm?”  

You groaned and rolled your eyes.  

“Don’t be smart with me, Jeon.” 

He laughed. 

“Ah there she is. I was wondering what you’d done with her.” 

“Done with who?” 

“Miss take-no-shit girlboss.” 

You laughed and blushed, curling yourself into his chest, self-conscious and shy. 

“I’m still here,” you mumbled quietly. “I just… I don’t like being in charge all the time.” 

“Yeah, I kind of got that.”  

He dropped his eyes and when he looked back at you, his gaze was darker, mischief glinting in them. 

“You were a very good girl, you know. I didn’t expect that.”  

“You thought I’d argue?” 

“Mmm.” 

“Do you want me to argue?” 

He grinned. 

“I mean, I’m not opposed to it but, fuck… Honestly, I needed this little break. You being so fucking good for me… shit.” He bit his lip and trailed a hand down your body, circling your taut nipple, dancing over your hip. “God, I could come right now just thinking about it.”  

“Is that right? You want me to be good for you? Want me to do as you say?” You shuffled onto your knees. “Tell me anything, Jungkook. I’ll do whatever you want.”  

Jungkook groaned, eyes fluttering to a close. He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 

“God, I think I fucking dreamt you up.” He turned back to you. “You just can’t be real.”  

You swung a leg over him, taking his heavy cock in your hand. He groaned.  

“So… You gonna come inside?”  

He almost yelped, laughing, and then cursing under his breath.  

“You really want me to?” 

You shrugged. 

“I’m protected and I know I’m clean and I know how many health check-ups they make you have so I can’t imagine you’re riddled with disease.” 

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

You leant forward, ghosting your lips over his.  

“I’m just saying,” you whispered, “that I want to feel you inside me, down to the tiniest detail.” 

“Fuck, I made you up; I know I did. I know I did. You cannot be real.” 

“Oh, I’m real.” 

You rose up and rolled your hips, coating his shaft in your slick. The noise that left him was animal and he flung you onto you back, pinning you down and towering over you. He leant down, your noses touching, and kissed you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a pause, both just looking at each other, breathing heavy, sticky with sweat. Then the moment broke and you both laughed.  

He kissed you again, his grip on you softening, relenting. He still tasted like you when he licked into your mouth and your cunt quivered in anticipation of his cock and at the memory of his mouth.  

He retreated and grabbed a pillow, lifting you at the hips to slip it beneath you before he gripped his cock with a light hiss. He pushed the head of it through your folds, lodged it just barely at your entrance and you whined. He anticipated your action before you could make it, holding your hips down, keeping you still. 

“Jungkook.” 

He hummed, less in response to you and more in appreciation of your body, as he ran his hands over it. His thumbs grazed your pert nipples and his hands squeezed at your waist. He lifted the backs of your thighs and pushed them to your chest, humming again in satisfaction. You could feel him at your entrance and your walls pulsed, desperate for him. You gulped, wondering if you still had to keep your hands to yourself. You were so needy for it now that you didn’t dare try it, didn’t dare take the risk that he might move away, stop touching you, even for a second.  

“Jungkook, please,” you whispered. “I need you to fuck me, please.”  

He slowly dragged his eyes back to you.  

“Say it again, beautiful.” 

“Say what?” 

“Tell me you need me. Tell me you need me to fuck you.” 

“I need you. I need you. Please. Fuck me, please. Jungkook, I need you to fu- oh!” 

He didn’t even wait for you to finish. He thrust hard and you got what you wanted: you could feel every ridge of his shaft against your walls, tight and slick and trembling.  

“Tell me how it—fuck—tell me how it feels.”  

“Feels good, JK. Feels so good. Can I… Do I have to, ah, keep my hands to m-myself? Can I touch you? Please?” 

He groaned loud, dropping his head, and laughed softly. 

“You asking my permission? Does my good girl need my permission to touch me?” 

“Yes, yes. Please.” 

“Shit.” 

He leant forward, pushing your legs to the side, lowering himself onto his forearms so he could kiss you.  

“Yes, go ahead; fuck, you’re so good for me, baby. You don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.”  

The first thing you did was pull him even closer, kiss him again, whine into his mouth when the head of his cock squeezed past your g-spot. You gripped his hair tight, twisting it in your fingers, keeping his face close to yours. You whispered his name and his eyes found yours; wide, bambi eyes staring openly at you, hair sticking to his forehead, your name on his lips as he pounded into you. You traded sloppy kisses and whispered expletives.  

“JK?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I… Can I touch myself?” 

You felt his cock twitch inside you and he swore. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re the best. Shit. Oh, shit. Yes, you can, you can.”  

He wished he could keep his cool, but it took all he had not to come right then and there. He dropped his head to your shoulder and bit down hard, trying to ground himself as you reached between you and drew circles over your clit. Your walls fluttered against him, squeezing and clenching, as you shuddered into your third orgasm and he growled, desperately trying to last, to fuck you through this at the very least. What he wouldn’t give for this moment to last forever, to live this moment a hundred, a thousand times over: the sounds and feelings of your climax almost overwhelming him, his head barely above water, about to drown in you and die happy doing it. He wanted to freeze this moment, store it in his memory, crystallise its perfection. But it was over too soon. 

When your cunt released him, still quivering, he was too quick to breathe a soft sight of relief, too quick to relax, and he juddered quickly to his own end, filling you with milky ropes of cum.  

Breathing hard, he kissed you, still hungry, still needy, still inside you. He held you at the back of the head and pushed his forehead into yours. 

“You’re perfect, fucking perfect.”  

With a groan, he let his strength go and flopped against you. You held him close and could feel his heart beating hard under your hand. You brushed his hair from his face and smoothed it down. You kissed the top of his head and he sighed.  

“Is it wrong if I say I think I fucking love you?” He raised his eyes to you, giddy and sparkling. 

You chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s just the orgasm talking.” 

He laughed quietly and pressed a kiss to your collarbone. 

“Maybe. But if you keep it up, I am going to fall in love with you.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” 

He turned his head to bite down on your shoulder again. 

“Can’t it be both? 

Yk what I find really hot? When guys are like jerking off with their legs spread out and they're like moaning and whimpering when they get close... And then when they are like just about to come, their abs/stomach does that thing...those involuntary flexes...like...🥵😵‍💫😩 Why is that so damn hot??? 🤤😮‍💨

All Mine - JJK (M)

→ pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

→ genre | smut, angst, ceo!jungkook

→ word count | 6,431

→ summary | CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country,

Jungkook didn’t have much time for love. You were in love with him,

but he didn’t feel the same way about you, at least that’s what you thought.

→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words.

→ A/N| I’ve been away for a long time, but I’m slowly coming back now. I haven’t come off hiatus yet, but it’s a start. Please, if you like it, reblog and comment, I’m always open to suggestions.

Keep reading

jungkook smut audio || jealous jungkook fucking you into the bed <333 enjoy & repost! :D

thankyou anon for requesting! jungkook audios are so easy to come across yayyyy <3

check out my other smut audios ↴

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