No One Else (Namjoon X Reader)

No One Else (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 5.0kish

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n/Reader

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, semi-clothed sex, creampie, biting, groping, pinching, slapping, kissing (tongue and other), aggressive Namjoon, jealousy, possessive undertones, rough/intense sex, orgasms (yours and his), squirting (implied), hair pulling, scratching, cuddling, softness (at the end), rich Namjoon/CEO Namjoon elements, Established (early) relationship stuff

Genre: PWP, Established Relationship

AUs: CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: Namjoon is a man who gets what he wants. Nothing is out of his reach. You find out what happens when he thinks someone else might get something that should be his. It brings out a side of him you never knew existed.

Author’s Note:

For my sis @worldwideseal

This is a standalone story from the CEO AU and isn't the same CEO Namjoon from previous stories, although there are some of the same elements (established relationship).

Thank you for reading. If you liked it, feel free to comment. If you reblog, it's also very much appreciated but not required.

Tags: @askkrisachan @kiestrokes

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

The penthouse door shut behind you and Namjoon’s footsteps followed shortly after. 

Although the foyer hall was dark, you knew it well enough to identify every single shape like you’d lived there for years. You’d certainly leaned into the comfort and confidence of accepting that you did in fact live here. It was as official as could be: you’d gotten a couple bills and updated your mailing address.

It didn’t get any more real than that. 

As you wandered past the tall mirror mounted on the wall, you glanced at yourself, enjoying the site of your legs in the heels chosen for the night: slightly taller stilettos that made your legs look as long as you’d always wanted. 

It was that much better hearing Namjoon’s dress shoes pacing at your back. You finally slowed at the end of the hall, facing the den unfolding before your eyes. Based on the warmth suddenly rising at your back, Namjoon had stopped just behind you. 

His breath grazing your shoulder only confirmed the fact a moment later. His words chased the fading wisps when he spoke. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

Whatever reason he was asking, you hid your confusion and smiled, noting the far off night sky through the massive picture windows framing the room across the way. The night sky looked surreal this high up. Living in one of the tallest buildings in the center of a bustling city had its perks–and this one was high on your list. 

“Yes.” You whispered. A beat passed.

Namjoon’s lips pressed your skin then slid towards the outside of one shoulder and departed just there. “Good.” He murmured.

Another moment slipped between the silence that followed.

“..It was nice to show you off.” 

Hearing him say that ALWAYS felt amazing, and Namjoon never seemed to get tired of announcing it. You often suspected that was the whole reason he insisted you come along to these events.

Gatherings. Galas. Whatever they were, whenever they happened, it was almost a guarantee he’d send you a message ahead of time with a save the date notice. 

Which was followed by a visit to his tailor for fittings. Beautiful dresses that you’d never imagined being in, customized to your shape. Emphasizing what you had and making you feel like a model. A goddess. 

Skin treatments that had you smelling like heaven and glowing like an angel come to earth. You couldn’t get enough. The hours of prep was always worth the end result: eyes on you.

Attention of the most surprisingly good kind. It was a wonderful change you’d grown into with this relationship.

For once sensing eyes on you from all directions didn’t scream ‘be on guard’. It lifted you. Pumped your ego and fed it to a healthy size. 

You always came back to a single home truth: the only eyes you really desired belonged to Namjoon. His stare was what you craved. Dined on, when it was served. 

Like he’d done earlier tonight, all through the drive over. In steely silence, city lights washing features and his jaw muscle writhing. From next to you at the banquet hall table, shoulder to shoulder among his friends and associates. 

And just like now: when you turned and spotted his gaze leveled your way again. There was something amiss in the sparkle there, beaming from those narrowing eyes. 

“What?” You scoffed playfully, offering a coquettish pose, fanning lashes at him. Your lips pursed just a little and Namjoon’s own thinned into a very taut smile. 

One that you’d seen after many unpleasant work meetings or a particularly busy work day. He did move a lot of money so his mood could be mercurial. 

Nerves rising a little, sending goosebumps along your skin, you straightened a bit, waiting for him to speak. But Namjoon didn’t. He waited just long enough to break the silence, right when your lips parted to speak.

“What did you think of him?”

“Him.” You repeated, now fully turned to face Namjoon. He was slow, tugging each cuff of his suit jacket sleeves and sliding arms out one after the other. Even in spite of the broad shouldered design of the garment, Namjoon shedding it did little to diminish his stature. 

This man managed to look just as broad. Except now the more fitted shape of his dress shirt thoroughly outlined his triangular shape. As if you needed the reminder he was spending more and more time at the gym in the mornings. 

Like it wasn’t enough he could destroy you as he was if he never stepped foot in there again, but that wasn’t enough for him. Namjoon cared about his body and keeping it ready to work at peak performance. He didn’t just keep his mind sharp. He kept every muscle ready. Trained. 

He wanted the best and he did not sit back until it came to him. He chased it down, made it his own. Just like he’d done to you.

The way he stepped closer after hanging the jacket on a nearby wall hook shrank the air around you. This room’s high ceiling wouldn’t stop you if your soul departed and sailed up with the energy of a rocket off the launch pad. 

You swallowed, chest dangerously tight. That was easy enough to ignore–you had to or you’d panic. 

“Him?” You repeated, letting all the confusion and nervousness out in this single word. 

It didn’t change that slowly deepening glare that had taken residence on Namjoon’s face.

“Him.” He grunted, tone like granite. And just as warm. Now he was within reach, chest puffing. His fingers found your chin, tracing the shape, then circled and held tight. Slowly he tipped your face up so he could see you clearly. 

Knowing Namjoon was looking into your eyes, there wouldn’t be any way to retreat because you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you tried. 

“The man who was talking to you by the champagne fountain.” 

Your mind scrambled backwards in the evening, combing over every mundane detail. Things you might have missed, down to the color of the salad fork and the way Namjoon had unfolded his napkin and laid it on his lap.

The big, plump warmth of his palm on your thigh there, under the table. The way it climbed slowly until you’d almost choked on a mouthful of red wine between courses. Just before you’d gone to the dancefloor. 

“Oh.” The admitting came in a low wheeze from your lips. You resisted licking them, lest you ruin the lipstick you’d purchased just for this evening. 

Namjoon released your chin. Smiling, he leaned closer. It was hard to see that smile didn’t go further than the apples of his cheeks because you’d never seen it directed at you. He was not pleased. 

“Yes.” He cooed but it was a rumble. From deep in that broad chest. The buttons of his shirt looked like they were as stressed as you felt. His free hand was at the top button, popping it open. “..Him. What did you think of him?” 

“You want me to say something specific, then tell me.” You replied. Playing mind games with Namjoon was dangerous when he was in a mood like this. It couldn’t have gone well for anyone who tried it in the world of business and you were far more woefully underskilled to even begin trying. 

You’d be crushed like a bug. 

Namjoon’s smile stayed. He opened a second button. More skin came into view, the v shape of parting shirt material widening. Tempting your attention and the beginnings of a sweet ache much further below your navel. 

“I just want the truth.” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“I know you wouldn’t, Y/n. Which is why I trust that I can ask you and get the answer.”

“I can’t make something up. I just said—” You sputtered weakly and Namjoon’s finger drew a rail of fire down your lips,heading for the center divot at the base of your throat. You were helpless as your head lolled backwards. 

The ceiling was all you could see, starlight making a white aura there as his touch stopped and he traced a spiral there just near one collarbone. His lips feathered your neck on one side and your knees shook.

He growled. Sank teeth gently to pinch just a bit of skin. So careful that you knew it could be so much more dangerous than he was letting it become. And you knew HE knew how much this turned you on. The danger contained and wielded by such a powerful man like Namjoon Kim.

Beyond-billionaire. Earned his stripes and his reputation. Earned the privacy and mystery of his success and the corners of his life he kept locked up tight. You’d only just gotten into the inner circle but there were doors you knew were still closed. 

Especially when it came to his appetites. You’d never thought that you could walk around on this earth feeling perpetually wet like Namjoon had you doing since you became serious. 

Your knees locked as you drew in a deep breath. Instead of helping, your head spun. 

“So don’t. The truth gets MUCH better rewards than lies,my sweet. Unless..” He dragged a finger over the wet spot where his teeth had been, then massaged into the depression left. You bit back a moan. 

“...Unless you like that kind of thing? Are you that type? Do you like to be punished, Y/n? I know we’re still learning about each other–we’ve got a long way to go. But I wouldn’t mind knowing that. I can oblige if you’re into going through it. Wouldn’t be my first time.” 

Oh my god. The ceiling wobbled and you blinked. Shaking your head had you unsteady in the heels you’d managed to strut successfully in most of the night. Good thing it didn’t last long before the ceiling stilled again. 

Namjoon moved onto your shoulders, bringing one finger under the stress strap and tugging it aside. It fell down to your bicep. The tickle was so intense you almost shuddered. Everything was so alive with Namjoon so close. 

Having him in your life had EVERYTHING much brighter and more fresh, so this should stop being a surprise, and yet…

After he guided the other strap down and it was hanging the same way on the other side, Namjoon’s eyes came into view after he cupped the back of your head and pulled it upright. Placing your attention solidly where he wanted. Getting his way.

Exactly what he deserved. 

The only remaining sign of his former smile were two dangerously thin pink lines, even tighter than you felt. 

“Are you that type?” He was speaking so low and quiet, forcing you to strain beyond your thundering heart just to hear. 

“I’m not.” 

“..Mmmhm.” He barely nodded. Something entered his eyes–a new kind of flame. Flickering and hungry. Was that …jealousy? Namjoon’s lips parted and his forehead barely touched yours. He spoke again. 

“Then tell me what you thought of him.” He wasn’t going to let this go.

At least you’d finally remembered who he was talking about: some nice older man from your trip to the champagne fountain while Namjooon made his social rounds. One of the only moments he’d left your side. 

An exotically handsome man. With an accent thick enough you mostly understood and pieced together what he’d asked. Basic questions. A compliment, and his reaching for your earring–the 24k dangling drop with a real pearl at the center. 

He’d been brief in his conversation and your gut dropped when you remembered the man leaning close to speak in your ear and whispering his compliment on the accessory. It wasn’t a long conversation and enough people had been around, you hadn’t realized Namjoon was still aware enough to see. 

But he had. His sneering smile slowly opened the door to whatever lurked underneath his composure as he waited.

Two of his fingers walked right down the center of your chest, stopping at the top of your dress, where it dipped low between the swells of both breasts, then curved into a hook shape. 

“I didn’t..” Your lips shook. It was a bleating plea. No room to feel pathetic or weak. You meant it so much right now.

The plea in your eyes hit whatever wall was up in his mind. Namjoon smirked a little, heat rolling from his flaring nostrils with the sound. 

Your body jerked forward as he pulled away, dragging you with him. You barely kept up, stumbling along, heels dangerously unsteady as you both moved towards the hallway. It never seemed so long, passing doors as you plodded along, going from marble to tile to carpet, paving the way to the last door at the very end.

Namjoon only let go to reach forward and open the door. He pushed a little with one palm, then stepped aside and jerked his chin towards the inner chamber. 

You moved over the threshold. Just like he’d done with the front door, Namjoon shut the bedroom door. Even so, closed off from the rest of the place, this room was massive and always felt that way. Day or night, it didn’t matter. This space was just as big as everywhere else here. 

Namjoon wasn’t about to live small. He demanded room and made his own, no apologies. 

You turned around, seeing his form striding for the closet. Without looking at you, Namjoon was at work, stripping his shirt off. It fell to the floor as a crumpled heap. His hands went to his belt as he stood in the open closet doorway. 

It was like he’d felt your hands rising to the back of your dress, arms twisting and fumbling to find your dress zipper. His words were ice, cutting across the darker space. 

“Don’t you dare. Face the bed. Bend over, palms flat.” 

Your eyes opened wider but you turned away and did as told. You hear the sounds of hangers moving along the rails in the closet. He disappeared then, the sound of material rustling coming from around the door that blocked your sight. 

Forever seemed to pass as you stared at the headboard further up, so many pillows arranged neatly. Almost nearly perfect. Namjoon was no slouch in housekeeping efforts either. His cleaners knew their standard and never slipped an inch.

A hard squeeze on one ass cheek, through the material of your dress made your thighs tense. You went up on toes and your ankles threatened to quit entirely. Fingers curled into the perfectly smooth bed sheets. Your nails dug deep into the cool surface, sending an ache through the first knuckles on every finger. 

Your lips retreated from your teeth as you sucked air through. “Joon..” You whined. Heat rushed through your folds, daggering right up into your center. You felt the rush of pressure and warmth building just behind your seal. 

Namjoon’s laugh behind you was long and faded. His single slap was hard. A little bit more pain than pleasure and you took it, eyes rolling a little. You quickly focused on a single pillow at the center of the collection directly ahead. 

“Love it when you say my name.” His fingers pinched. Groped a solid handful of your cheek and kneaded. He let go and the ache stayed there for a few seconds. “..You remember his name too?” 

“No.” You spat out. Even if you did you wouldn’t have said it for all the money in the world. You wanted to forget you’d even met this guy, whomever he was, that Namjoon suddenly couldn’t think about anything but that stranger. 

“No?” Another snicker and Namjoon’s fingers traced the hem of your dress and tugged it up over your ass. He bunched the material around your lower back. You wanted to feel shame but the fire didn’t stay at your face, it ran right down to your pussy. 

“Please.” You began. A low moan came out when Namjoon ran the back of a knuckle across the crotch of your panties.

“So hot, kitten. Is that me..or him?” 

“Namjoon..” You whined now, thighs openly shaking. Your knees bent briefly and you struggled, straightening them again. Your ass jerked and Namjoon kissed the small of your back. 

“Don’t you hear me? I’m talking to you. You weren’t noticing me when he was next to you.”

You had so many things you wanted to say–every word bottlenecking at the back of your lips. You worked, chewing invisible sounds but nothing made it out. It was peak frustration borne of the pinnacle of arousal. 

And it was going to burn you alive. Namjoon was quite clearly happy to see you spinning so far out of control while he was slowly gathering the reins. 

His monologuing continued as he followed both sides of the cotton center panel with a pointer finger, debating which side to move first. As if it was a when, not an if. Time warped, extending into the unknowable future as you waited. Suffered. Found it harder to focus on anything but survival. 

The sheets under your palms warmed and sank a little deeper when your weight listed forward. A knee rutted the inside of your right thigh, hinting. ‘Spread’ wasn’t said in a word, just in that action.

“Seeing him close to you made me realize something. I’m a jealous man. I want what’s mine. What’s mine…is MINE. I don’t share. Why should I have to? Is that impractical, Y/n?”

You couldn’t speak still, lips twisting. Your eyes rushed with wet heat. Shock was filling you to the top–you’d never been so emotional over desire in your life until now. Whatever was happening, you needed Namjoon to make it all disappear. To imagine he was somehow misunderstanding a casual conversation this much…

But you’d never plunged this far into the depths of a dark enjoyment: having someone so into you they were being unreasonable by more and more measure. You, a woman so desired that a man this powerful would be so swept up to lose some semblance of control. 

He could have it ALL–every inch of you. Whatever he’d ask in trade, let him take it all. Crush it in his big, strong fist. And let him put that same hand around your neck. Squeeze until you can't think or feel. Until the resistance that might be there flowed out, like the last breaths and the high that promised to rush through you at that perfect moment…

You came back to reality with Namjoon tracing something warm and blunt along your sex. It was heavy, the thump when he slapped it against you. That impact made you jump.

Your ankle rolled and you whimpered, kicking that heel off. The other went too, shooting across the carpet and ending up somewhere in the dark, chased by Namjoon’s giggle. 

“I know…it’s so much, isn’t it? But…I’m not being totally crazy, am I?” He pushed against you, his belly brushing over your ass and the pressure over you increasing as the blunt shape nosed hard into your folds. You realize: it was the tip of his cock and it was fat. 

Your senses dulled and the world grayed as you nearly fainted in need. “N..no. You…want…it..” It was hard to even hear your own voice, tinny and breathless in the dim space ahead. No need to finish your thought. He did it for you. 

“---I do want it. I want YOU. You’re mine…aren’t you?” A hand clapped over your other hip and he pulled you into his rolling hips. His cock brushed against the inside of your thigh, silky hot. Burning to the touch.

Your arms trembled and you let your face touch the sheets with a pained moan. Namjoon wound his free hand through your hair and pulled you right back up.

“Stay there. Listen to me when I’m talking to you. Couldn’t hear me there.. You hear me now, don’t you?” Cool air washed over your pussy as the panties slid to the side and took your seal with it, breaking you open. 

The head of his cock bulldozed through your flesh, spreading the slick. He used a single, spiraling stroke to coat himself and leaned back enough to seat his tip right inside of you, then leaned forward, pulling your head back to bring you into his stroke. 

It was white sparks showering through your closed eyes as he filled you up. Your walls bloomed in tightness as they filled. Stretched. Expanded to take in every inch of this thick cock pushing into you until his belly met your ass. 

When he was hilted, Namjoon tugged your hair again, firmer. Growled and let his head roll back. Pulled back just enough, then snapped his hips. Still speaking, he set a pace–a stroke every second. Not wasting time or waiting around like he’d done hours ago. 

In the elevator.

The car. 

In line to get into this dinner. 

In line to get a drink, with you against his side, demurely, fingers wound through his own and greedily choking on his cologne. 

Wetness oozed from deep inside, cresting the outer edge of your pussy lips as he drove in harder. Began to really heave with each forward thrust. 

“This..I bet he was thinking about this.. But it isn’t his. He couldn’t see or touch this–could he Y/n? You wouldn’t bend over his bed like this. You wouldn’t spread wide open and take every inch for him, would you?”

Even if he demanded you play along and answer, your body rocked and jerked so hard as he fucked you that the words would have been jostling too. Lost bouncing up your throat if they even made it to your lips. 

The grip on your hip tightened and nails scraped your skin there, leaving stinging that melted into nothing as seconds passed, overlapped by the slapping sound of your skin meeting his. The bed began to tremble when Namjoon went harder. 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore, ass raising up and head dropping,letting your face crush against the fresh cold of the sheet's surface. Your makeup made a rainbow of colors, the color of your lipstick leaving streaks below that you only glimpsed before your eyes shut again as a clamp seized your insides. Chills rushed through you, pushing out a warning moan–he was getting you close. 

You were going to cum. And it was going to be hard.

Whether or not he was actually aware, Namjoon continued to pound away at you, snarling–muttering something you couldn’t hear. Squeezing your skin so hard vessels burst underneath. He slapped and pinched, the sting biting through the ecstasy. 

“J..Jooonieee.” You keened, head heavy and turning, giving you a chance to turn your profile to one side and suck in a much needed lungful of air. You could taste his scent. Taste that cologne. Namjoon made some belly deep sound behind you.

His weight fell into you as he pushed your body onto the bed, forcing you into a prone position. Now his thrusting went from forward and back to almost straight up and down. Dunking into you, sinking down hard and rising up. Like a piston into the ground, pulling up oil. Pumping for the desired fluid, relentlessly steady. 

It was no use. Namjoon stabbed his cock deep and stayed there with a boom of pleasure. 

The clench came again and your body vibrated. Your hands clenched at sheets, tugging them towards you in desperation. Trying to pull away a little and find some moment of relief. To think a little.

Most fruitlessly of all: to save yourself against the rushing inevitability on your heels. 

“Fuck baby..You feel so good…” Barked at you this time, loud like he didn’t care to remember where he was. And if he did? He gave no fucks because it was all about what he wanted and how close it was to being in his grasp. 

He felt you within his reach, like his hand rising from your hip to your throat to grip tight, and his weight along your back as he barely planked.

You weren’t escaping.

You were trapped and you were exactly where you belonged. 

“C..close. Ple…please..Don’t..”

“What is it?” Namjoon’s tone dripped in evil. In such an offensive pretend innocence, the way he nudged at your few remaining senses.

You barely blinked, just at the edge. Ekeing out a the few words you could to warn. To beg, one last time.

“--He can’t be me. He can’t stop me. NO one takes what’s mine. THIS is mine..” The pumping started, hard and furious as Namjoon lips found your ear. 

Like he wasn’t pounding your insides into nothing but a creamy mess. He fucked into you with angry strokes. Going deep. Into your guts. Almost into your lungs.

Your throat, where his fingers circled and squeezed more. You barely gasped out the last remains of air, eyes rolling so hard it was static graywash as the orgasm hit. 

You seized under him as Namjoon pulled back and gave a few more strokes before you squeezed so tight he couldn’t move. He fell against you with a satisfied grunt, feeling you convulse and squeeze. Your pussy rippled, sending spastic ripples down the length of his thick cock. 

Namjoon ground into you as he rode out the high, then stirred himself until he shuddered.

“Make me cum..” He breathed, growling again in a long, creaking exhale as he did just that, hips blanching from how hard they pushed into your ass until he was done. Namjoon’s weight fell onto you completely as he took time to recover himself. 

Eventually he came away enough and your hair slid free from his fingers, falling across the sweating span of your shoulders. The room air washed across your skin, giving much needed air a chance to cool you off. 

You laid there until your eyes opened, then turned your face the other way, barely spotting one of Namjoon’s naked palms digging into the mattress near your head.

He leaned down enough to look into your eyes. The bridge of his nose was glittery. His temples and brow fared the same but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice. 

Instead he offered a pleased grin. Both dark browns rose. “Still with me, Y/n? Here..look at me.” 

Right now doing that took every ounce of energy you could muster. And that wasn’t much. Your ass clenched with the occasional aftershocks in your pussy. As your hips shifted you felt the dampness under your mound. It was a sizable circle that spread almost wide enough to both hips. 

“I..” You licked your lips, then tried again. “...I..came.”

“Did you?” Namjoon winked. How he still had any ability to be upright was sending you right now. It must have looked like you’d been shot, the way you just posed there on the bed, boneless. Feeling weak and wasted. 

Dick drunk. The very definition.

Whatever his jealousy had inspired, Namjoon had done well above whatever he needed to do to prove himself to whatever his name was. You could barely remember anyone from hours ago, let alone the man he’d fixated on. Maybe that was how he’d wanted and planned it. 

Namjoon stripped your dress off your body and peeled the panties away. Seeing the soaked panel earned another laugh. 

“I love the mess you made..” He praised, bunching your panties up and brushing them over his nose and lips. A moment later he tossed them up the bed and your dress followed. Your heels rolled across the carpet, just in view off the bed. 

Namjoon’s body melted into the bed next to you and he rolled onto his side. You were still fairly helpless as hands found you and turned you over to one side, facing him. As you gazed at Namjoon from lids raised to a pathetic minimum, he watched your face.

And he did it for a long time. Long enough your blinks started to last longer and longer. Fatigue crawled into your mind, pushing out any thoughts and making conversation an impossible and unnecessary thing. By the placid expression you kept coming back to when you could open your eyes, Namjoon didn’t mind. In fact, maybe it was that he expected this result. 

When fingers traced your temple and stroked through your hair slowly, it sealed your fate. You yawned and it ended in a fitfully weak moan. 

Namjoon caught your hand against his chest and pulled it up to his lips, kissing the curled fingers, then opening them to lay your open palm against his cheek. 

“Mine.” He murmured. 

You nodded. Or it might have been a dream. But it felt so real. Like his kisses, each one following your nose down. He kissed you deep and slow, taking his time, letting his tongue explore your mouth for a little bit before he pulled back. 

Your tongue swabbed the wetness his kiss left behind as he drew you against his front and wrapped an arm over you in an unyielding hug that was a perfect fit. It was only Namjoon’s steadily slowing breathing that you heard. Not even your own registered as you inhaled him again.

Floating in sweet, heady nothingness, you stayed silent. He did the same.

It was the kind of night you dreamed about. The kind of world he’d opened to you: expensive sheets. Massive, spanning beds. Big spaces with glittering, clean furniture, more expensive than you could calculate. 

Sitting at the top of the world with a man who might as well own it–well on his way to doing just that. But all he really wanted was you. And if there was truly ever any doubt he could get you, it ended here. Tonight. If jealousy was a motivator for him, he used it as a tool like an expert at the craft. 

Let him want and covet. Let him desire and buy it all up. He had you lock and stock.  

Except when he mumbled in the dark, minutes later. 

“There’s no one else, Y/n.” 

You couldn’t say it, but you thought it. Distant hope was eternal that he’d hear you, even in your unfocused and fuck drunk state. 

There’s no ‘someone else’. It’s just you. Always.  

Hello!!! Your blog was just recommended to me, and idk why but I remember your Tumblr name from a while back and I'm pretty sure I read your fics too (although it's a bit fuzzy, ngl 😅). If you don't mind sharing, what were some of the old fics you wrote? Also feel free to ignore this ask too if you don't want to share/feel uncomfortable!!

I was recommended? I'm honored! 😊

I wrote lots of CEO Namjoon fics (I did a series about him - Indulge Me, Baby Me, Repeat After Me to name a few.)

Probably one of my most popular fics was about CEO AU Jungkook. I believe it was called Impress You and it had a follow up second story called Insatiable.

I haven't decided if I'm going to start reposting old fics to help people find me. I really liked some of my past fics. I grew attached to the characters.

Thank you for stopping by to ask. ❤️

@kiestrokes @shina913 and all writers out there.

..and a reminder to myself. It's about enjoying the process and experience.

as a fanfic writer, the best thing you can do for yourself is invest in the stories you want to read. don’t think about what will get popular, because it will make you miserable. write about what means the most to you. if you want to write pure smut, do it. if you want to make intricate worlds and complex characters, do it. write and write and write. contrary to popular belief, good art does not have to make you suffer. all my very best work is the stuff that i enjoyed writing

This applies to so many fics I've read in the fandom.

I don't think fic writers know how much they matter

Do you know how many times you distracted me when I was hurt or lonely? Do you know how many times a line or a scene from fanfic marked me so much that I remembered years later, even though I can’t recall my own phone number? 

Even if the fic isn’t perfect or popular or multi-chaptered… Sometimes there’s just one sentence that changed me.

You, miles and miles away, changed me.

Cherry (Jungkook x Reader)

Word Count: 6.86k

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/n (Reader)

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Semi-public/public play, hand jobs, orgasms (his), kissing sucking, biting/nibbling, sexy/dirty talk, flirting, early relationship jitters, gentle teasing/scolding, coaxing/seduction, lightly pushy Jungkook, alcohol consumption.

Genre: PwP, Friends to Lovers/Roommates to Lovers

AUs: Roommate BTS/Roommate Jungkook

Summary: You've had a rough day and you decide to stop at a bar on the way home to unwind. Your roommate meets you there and a bad day turns better from there when he gives you an unexpected first.

Author’s Note: It's been a long time since I wrote about Jungkook, let alone Roommate Jungkook. I missed him so I decided to drum up a little action.

Please ignore any typos and just enjoy.

Thank you for reading. If you liked it and feel like leaving a comment, I'd love to hear! Reblogging is always appreciated but not required.

Tag List: @askkrisachan @kiestrokes

You settled into the booth, sinking into the plush cushion. There was no disputing: it was much nicer to be inside, away from the light rain falling steadily outside. The day hadn’t started that way, but city weather was misleading like that.

10 hours ago your optimism was much higher, especially seeing the golden beauty of the morning sun from the bathroom window. Everything about the day seemed MUCH more promising earlier. From there it proved a slow plod towards disappointment as the cloud cover increased hour by hour.

You should learn to be more practical, the reminder coming as you stared into the depths of your drink, elbows braced on the table. As you chased a cherry bobbing on the surface of the drink with the tip of the straw tucked between your lips your mood dipped.

In spite of the day, you DID have something to look forward to–something that came with the opening of the bar door. Footsteps crossed the threshold and shook off droplets of rain. Hair shook next, followed by shoulders as the voices around you lulled into a brief silence.

There were probably enough people looking at whomever came through the door, but you didn’t. That was the last thing you felt like doing. Your head stayed down just enough, focusing on the reddish hued depths of the glass contents. 

The bell over the door chimed faintly when it shut behind the newcomer. Finally you looked up, taking in the figure there. 

And his eyes found you right away. The smile came with a flash of teeth. Damp bangs splayed over a blemish free forehead until a backwards flick cleared it all. It was such a quick action but still looked effortless.

Graceful as hell. Familiar, too. Deep down you knew–you expected this. There was something to be said about pretending you didn't, though...

As the man closed the distance, coming your way with a purposeful stride, you straightened in the booth seat with shoulders pressed into the seat back in unconscious preparation.  

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this..” You finally said, even IF your belly was riddled with butterflies. Every one aflutter from the laser focused stare of your roommate. 

That word couldn’t contain what he was to you. What he’d become. It was the tip of the iceberg. He’s more than just a body paying the other half of the rent. Very much not like you pictured for yourself even a year ago.

Certainly not when you’d signed that signature line at the end of the too-many paged contract. 

Instead of feeling anxiety knitted with dreadful tension seeing Jungkook, you felt warm. Relaxed. Weak and wobbly deep inside. A welcome change you still hadn’t quite gotten used to. 

“I can’t believe how good you look.” Jungkook’s grin widened as he stood at the table. His shape did a great job of blocking your view of everything, and all he did was be himself–broad and handsome. If not a little…cocky still. 

You’d forgotten how much better Jungkook looked wet. It probably surpassed his visuals dry and donning a fitted pair of jeans. Or like now, in tailored slacks—the newest edition to his wardrobe thanks to a new job in a local office downtown. 

Jungkook hadn’t trended towards dressing business casual (or beyond) before, but that’s what a well paying job could do to a stubborn mind. The other side effect was more personal in nature:  you, struggling even more to keep eyes off him.

He didn’t complain so much anymore. Apparently messing with your focus and monopolizing your attention proved a fair trade for the agony this new forced fashion for 40 hours of his week. 

Jungkook stared down at you, his grin uneven. You couldn’t suss out why he stood there so long. Back to the excitement of telling yourself you'd never be the type to 'pretend' stuff--like stranger meetups.

And yet...

Eventually the silence piled on, bringing your gaze up until you met those beautiful, dark eyes. Black as night at the center, in this modest lighting, but with a sparkle just visible. Jungkook widened his shoulders and shot you a wink. 

“Of all the bars in all the city–” He grinned. 

You pulled the glass closer, taking another mouthful and almost gagging from the overwhelming alcohol taste dominating everything. The ‘Nightly Special’ section of the menu had been hard to really read, not that you’d sat down with patience or focus. You saw the word cherry. A flavor you liked and it would do but now came the debt: the slow crawl of realization that this was why you’d scaled back drinking to a rare-if-ever type of thing. 

Wearing a scowl, you smacked your lips. Jungkook titled his head, brow arched.

“...What’s the poison?”  

“A bellini.” You coughed into the back of your hand. “Don’t start. I needed it.” 

Not a moment later you motioned to your right side, shifting enough, assuming Jungkook would have plenty of space. He didn’t bother shedding the long overcoat as he took the offer and settled in. Then slid even closer until your sides touched. You surmised that was exactly what he’d wanted based on his unabashed hum of pleasure. 

“Seriously.” Jungkook started anew, voice lower and huskier. Hot breath tickled along your jaw as he nosed below that nearer ear. It was a most sensitive spot and one of his favorites since he found out what it did to you. 

Points for his earnestness, even buried underneath a blatant desire. Jungkook didn’t hide his feelings. Especially now that you both agreed to pursue a serious relationship. 

Gulping, you kept eyes trained on the Exit sign over the door and the red X, now faintly blinking.

“..Y/n.. No bullshit. You DO look good.” He murmured more softly. Silky heat grazed your lobe. His feigned pleading of this case had to be strictly for enjoyment. Anyone here would believe him from the jump. There wasn’t a shred of denial in you either. Your changed dynamic meant no more denial.  

A moment later goosebumps rose and ran down your neck in a straight shot, heading for that nipple.  

“Good.” You mimicked. Could you sound weaker? Your voice shivered like tree limbs battered by hurricane force wind. Jungkook had to have caught it. This was the kind of thing he lived to achieve.

If it wasn’t facing the entire place, you would be more than happy to free the whine stuck tight in your throat.

The next swallow of liquor went down easier, sending more fumes through your nostrils and right to your brain. This kind of thing happening was a risk, but you also knew it would help you relax. 

Jungkook aligned against your side like a second skin helped just as much, if not more. 

His touch always felt ‘right’. No one could replicate the way this man meshed with you. It wasn’t like you’d wanted anyone else to try, having become monogamous with Jungkook within the last few months. 

No longer just roommates, you’d officially traded status up to lovers. Boyfriend and girlfriend. This relationship thing was nice actually owning the label. You hadn’t appreciated how much effort had gone into suppressing the acceptance or enjoyment.

“Yeah?” You stole a quick glimpse sideways to find Jungkook A LOT closer, and even cuter with his wrinkled nose. He nodded. 

“100 percent.” His lids fell, stare unabashedly dreamy. 

As you gave in and leaned into his side, Jungkook slid his nearer arm along the back of the booth,then draped it over your shoulders. When he pulled you close, you took a deep breath and had the bonus of another pleasing hint of his clean, fresh scent. Rain kissed, above all else.

“This whole...pretend to be strangers meeting at the bar... It's new to me. Want something to drink?” You asked, the bell over the door ringing when it opened, then closed again. You would be ashamed to admit you had no idea how much time slipped by tucked under Jungkook’s muscular arm. 

It was like he’d moved a muscle either, more than happy to keep you close. For his effort, Jungkook was also acting a little too comfortable and touchy for strangers--unless he was just willing to be that bold if you hadn't known each other. He wasn't a very good actor...

“I’m good.” He replied.

A dimly lit pair of bodies passed, heading for the dance floor at the far end of the room. There, on the modest stage, a live band was finishing their setup. You weren’t a big fan of live music, but you knew who was..

..And he was sitting right next to you. 

“Is it open mic night?” Jungkook watched the bodies pass, then spoke, words riddled with interest. If it involved a chance to sing or show off in public, he was down. VERY not how you were, but not a deal breaker. 

You admired how it seemed Jungkook lacked a single particle of self consciousness in his whole body. He seemed to love putting on a show, especially if you were watching. Now that you understood better, it was a treat to see him showboating. Especially with purer motivations: less jealousy and revenge, more desire and pride driving him to draw your eyes.   

It was hard to believe you ever found it unappealing. Those moments seemed like a lifetime ago. And almost…embarrassing if you tracked through them again. Now was much more comfortable and pleasing, so you tried to keep yourself here. 

Jungkook loved attention and you loved when he sang. You’d call that a win-win normally, but tonight you weren’t quite in that place. There was a distant tension in your limbs and chest. The type you just wanted gone sooner rather than later.

“Looks like it. Not sure how I missed that. It’s going to get noisy soon. We should go..” You replied. 

It was only getting later. With Jungkook to walk you home, skirting the rain outside for the few blocks between here and the apartment didn’t seem so daunting. After all, wasn’t that one of the reasons you’d texted him to meet you here?  

Jungkook sighed. “Too bad. Haven’t gotten to sing for you in a while.” Disappointment bent Jungkook’s lips into an adorable pout. You didn’t need to look. 

A huff punctuated his disappointment. You couldn’t begrudge him the joy of performing. He was born for it. For now he tempered things with a brief smile. 

“Stop..” In spite of his tame reaction you gently prodded his side with one elbow, earning his grunt. 

He squeezed your shoulders more firmly. “YOU stop. You know I’m ticklish there.” 

“Are you?” You feigned surprise then squirmed when a few fingers wormed towards your armpit with an easy shift of his wrapped arm. You barely twisted out of reach. 

“Alright..” You whined. He was just too determined and you weren’t that good tonight. Jungkook, ever relentless and you ever underestimating–a winning combination. 

Seconds later he tugged you towards one end of the booth, inching his way out. On the move, he glanced towards the dancefloor. The figures you’d seen walk by were melting together as the first strains of a suave beat started, the guitar joining with a few plucked notes that became a full bodied song. One you hadn’t heard before, but it had your hips shifting faintly. 

“Wanna?” Jungkook threw a grin back, along with his head, eyeing you. He was a good dancer. Comfortable in his body AND knew how to control every muscle. To move every bit of himself for maximum effect. The stakes were high: falling into that trap meant you’d overstay and burn through your remaining energy. 

“A man of few words.” You teased. “Wanna….what?” 

“Dance.” Jungkook’s eyes rolled as he answered wearily.   

“My feet hurt.” The first of many excuses, by rote. 

Except tonight the idea of swaying with this tight body pressed close, in the balmy dark wasn’t such an off putting suggestion. You already noted that pleasant fullness between the hips that said the ache wasn’t from a long day on your feet, or racing back and forth across the office.

It was more the gnawing hunger for Jungkook. Freeing all your true feelings by agreeing to be together officially made your visceral reactions more potent. And more frequent without the usual hurdles or walls to surpass. Every single twinge of need could flow freely. 

A hint of warmth was already blooming in your folds. Jungkook’s eyes left yours and openly perused south, like he could see the thermal differences across your body. Like you were telling on yourself in ways you couldn’t begin to perceive.  

“I’m sure they do, but dance with me.” This time his smile was warmer. One palm rested in the small of your back, waiting for the word, to give that subtle pressure. To move you –and things– forward, to his desired destination: that shadowed dancefloor. 

“Jungkook–”

“Just one song. I won’t sing, either.” THAT was a big give on his part. You snorted and Jungkook’s stare narrowed. “That’s a big deal. The kind that doesn’t come along very often, Y/n. Let's spin around for a song. One song.” 

To pull the shimmering, doe eyed look from his arsenal was unfair. Rotten as hell and sneaky. Instead of maliciousness and deceit, you saw a flash of playfulness in those tawny depths, and further down, a roiling tension building. 

Exactly like it was inside you. You grunted and twisted against his hold. 

Once Jungkook was out of the booth and upright, he extended a hand again, palm up and waiting. Any reminding will or concern sank into the abyss seeing him towering over you like this. And wearing such a purposefully handsome grin. You knew he reserved that for particularly challenging situations requiring careful negotiation. 

“I won’t even take off my coat.”

That added another level of enticement. No coat off meant he’d be a bit too warm and unlikely to want to work up a good sweat here. It was a pretty good guarantee he’d stick to his word and you’d be out the door after. 

Your hand slid into his and Jungkook pulled you to your feet. He didn’t check as he backed towards the dancefloor and the music. Jungkook didn’t need to. Luck and grace were on his side. 

He was a smooth bastard who never seemed to check where he might be headed–like he always knew. Almost like he was that magical and ‘good’. Every move, clandestine and serendipitous. Born blessed and knowing exactly the hand he was dealt with his latent charm.

“No dirty dancing.” You warned, cheeks rushing with warmth. You fell against his front as he chuckled but it faded into the music overlapping as you stopped at the edge of the dance floor. One arm slid around the small of your back, pulling your hips snug against his own. The thick material of his overcoat was just roughened enough it tickled your suddenly overly sensitive flesh, but you didn’t mind.

You never minded with Jungkook.  

He managed a dimpled grin as he replied “I promise.”

--------------------------------------------------------

You couldn't keep your eyes off Jungkook as you both waited at the curb. He looked so good, blissfully unaware with his stare focused on the toes of his dress shoes. Like everything else exposed to the rain, they carried a shine in the street light. 

It could be worse, you conceded silently. At least the heaviest rain had passed, leaving a fairly light mist.

The world looked almost plastic, the way the water left a glossy layer over everything that wasn’t moving. Even the streets were slick, black coated in reflected wetness that drew every hint of light and turned it into a pearlescence. 

It was beautiful, but a chill was building. Enough to rue leaving your coat at work and falling into the illusion of the bar’s warmth. You were paying for it now. 

Jungkook glanced over at you, tucking his phone into his coat pocket. When he scoffed, it left his lips in a curling puff of hot air. 

“What?” 

“What are you looking at?” 

Jungkook looked down again. You did too, noticing the shiny circle of light reflected on the tips of both dress shoes. 

“These aren’t too bad looking. …Hurt like hell after 8 plus hours walking around in these things, but they LOOKED good today.” 

“Yeah.” You agreed. “Hopefully the rain won’t ruin them.” 

“Not like I’m going through puddles.” He sounded disappointed, again. There was such a pureness about it that you couldn’t help a grin. When you snorted, he snorted. 

When you stepped closer, Jungkook looked over. His arm moved and he opened that side of the coat, like a big fabric wing. Offering warmth and pure darkness. But most of all–the promise of comfort. Escape from that increasing chill as the build of moisture on your naked skin only heightened awareness.

You ducked into the available space offered with a mumbled ‘Thanks’. His arm came down and he kept you there. Inside his coat it was Jungkook scented heaven: comfortable temperature with pure Jungkook scent bathing the entire space. 

Neither of you spoke as you stood, mutually staring out to the street and vague shapes of cars, end to end, on the opposite side of the road. It was impressive that the only empty space was right in front of the bar doors, in the pickup and drop off zone.

Finally you broke the silence.

“How long did you say the Lyft would take?” 

Jungkook took that as an excuse to do what he’d just done a second ago: take his phone out and check it. The app was still open on his screen. You couldn’t tell much from his quick peek before he pocketed the phone again. 

“15 minutes.” 

“Why so long..” You sighed. “It’s not getting warmer.” 

“You want my coat? I’m good without it. The dancing warmed me up.” Whether or not he was being nice and lying to alleviate any concern you might have for his comfort in favor of your own, you couldn’t be sure.

It was a quick debate in your mind, then you replied “No..I couldn’t.” 

“You just said you were cold–” Jungkook began, confused. 

“Not exactly. I just said it wasn’t getting any warmer.” 

“Right. Big difference.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled. A car drove by, the tires splashing through a few errant puddles in the road. Water hissed as it jetted away from the rubber rolling through, then the sound faded as the car disappeared into the distance. 

“It just feels like that’s a little longer than normal.” You continued. 

“It’s approaching peak hours, Y/n.” 

You’d forgotten. This time of the week and night it WAS busier for Uber and Lyfts around town. Cabs fared no better, at least at this end of the city. Upon this revelation, you slumped against Jungkook again. 

You dare not risk going back into that bar to keep warm. The band was really getting into it and you saw how much Jungkook was enjoying dancing with you. He wasn’t going to be able to control himself if he heard and saw the crowd that had started to filter in when you both slipped away from the dancefloor.

Onto the next concern. “What do we do until they get here, then?” 

You only figured out why you weren’t getting an answer when you looked at Jungkook to find his stare on you. Surprisingly heavy and telling–he was…hungry looking. Your brows rose. 

“Koo..” You began, adding a poke with one finger into the center of his chest, where it was indecently firm. He didn’t move an inch, except to turn into your prodding, head tilting down. Eyes fixing on your more intently. 

“Hmm?” His other arm swung away from his body and he wrapped the other half of his coat around you, enfolding you in the two wide ‘wings’ of his coat’s inner lining. It was even warmer. The sensation was like a warm bath, except for the thrum of a heartbeat in that muscled chest pressing your own. 

“What are you doing? You didn’t answer me.” 

“I know.” He was silent again and you waited. Finally he continued. “I have an idea of what we could do. Plenty of time..” 

Your brows didn’t lower just yet. You stared into Jungkook’s heated gaze, curious and mostly emotionally blank. At this point it was only pure curiosity driving you. 

Jungkook’s stare shifted to the side and you followed it. He seemed to be looking towards the darkness between the building and an adjacent one next to it with only a narrow alley between the two brick structures. 

“The..alley?” You ventured, earning a nod from him. You laughed this time, hearing how it rang out into the night, unbothered if anyone was around to hear it. You hadn’t seen or heard anyone for quite a while, until the car that drove by minutes before. “You're…kidding, right?” 

Jungkook was back to staring in your eyes. Unsmiling, his lips still plump and inviting, especially parting a little to reply. 

“Yes. It’s private.” 

“It’s outside, in public.”

“It’s dark. No one will see.” 

“What—I..”

You took another look at the darkness between the two tall shapes, then blinked and tried to pull back. Jungkook’s arms stayed wrapped. His hands clasped each other, level with the middle of your back. He brought you close again. 

“Plenty of time. And it’s dark. Come on. We’ll be quick.” Jungkook’s voice was low. Almost conspiratorial, each syllable rolling off his lips with wisps of steam. To think he was almost burning up, from the inside out, for you?

That was going to end you. Both of you might not make it to the apartment if this kept up.  

“Quick?” You whined. While confusion gripped your mind, your body was a different story. It knew the pressure of his fingertips feeling along your skin. Cradling your hips, then bringing you along as he backed away from the curb. You staggered to keep up with each retreating step. 

He stopped at the entrance of the alley mouth. Once again Jungkook moved like he was ever sure, never sparing a single glance back to check. Like he’d done heading for the dancefloor. 

It seemed far-fetched, but you wondered if Jungkook had done some kind of recon, in all the times you both walked by here, while you talked and he listened. Or appeared to. He hadn’t spoken and that meant he had more than enough time to notice things like this alley. It did something to you deep inside to imagine him thinking about this for that long, waiting for this moment, then finally executing it. 

The thin blouse fabric did nothing to combat the chill when Jungkook turned you, then walked your back right into the brick wall. He followed, chest pressing and touched his forehead to yours. 

His palms pressed the wall as he let the coat hang, keeping a cocoon of warmth around your body. Underneath the ache, you were grateful, if not a little surprised. Jungkook’s belly rolled into you and your thighs slacked wider, feeling menacingly weak. 

“Kiss me, Y/n.” Even though he asked you, he made the move, joining with your lips to create the perfect seal. His tongue slipped past your lips, writhing a little as your hips did the same. 

He returned your moan with his own, sending heat over your cheeks with his exhale. Jungkook’s head cocked the other way and he kissed you again, hips grinding a little harder. That firmness over your mound wasn’t apartment keys. 

On every level you knew that shape–most especially at your center, the apex of both thighs, where the most heat and the most pulsation was building. You needed what it promised and swore you’d die when Jungkook spiraled himself slower and harder. Although your eyes rolled, you managed to keep them open, barely watching the other building’s exterior wall across the way. 

You were trapped but loving it with sensation washing over you. All nerves craved Jungkook. Soaked up his touch. His scent. His sounds. But you found yourself listening for footsteps or tires slicing through the waterlogged potholes out in the street.

The fear of being caught was a good deterrent normally, but tonight the danger clamped you so tight there wasn’t room for sensibility or much thought. 

When this kiss broke, your head went back, touching the wall. The scored brick surface scraped along your scalp but you were almost numb to it as he worked down your neck, to the top blouse button.

A single twist of his fingers popped it open and he kissed exposed skin.

Two more buttons came free and kisses spilled down further. He wasn’t neat about it, leaving wet shapes on the skin he found, inch by inch.

Jungkook returned to the front of your neck and you could feel the way he smiled as he spoke to the long line running from the base to just below your chin. Uncharacteristically quiet.

For someone who didn’t care about public stuff as a standard, it was delightfully curious how he was suddenly so interested in vocal discretion. But you knew: this was part of his game—the mental trickery that he employed now and then.

Another thing he’d discovered that you enjoyed far more than you probably should.  

Wiggling, your palms braced his chest. Jungkook continued to work on your neck, adding a nibble, tugging skin and kissing after it slipped free. Delight stabbed right into your pussy each time. You loved that Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Koo..” A shudder rattled your entire body. 

Jungkook’s head stayed low as he kissed the shape of a breast through the top. Although it wasn’t skin contact, your nipple responded the same, tightening at the suggestion and memory of wet suction. Just a little ghosted pressure sent tight heat through your folds. 

“Hmm?” His kisses came back up the other side of your neck and stopped under your jaw. Damp strands of his hair stuck against your skin, the lingering scent of his shampoo rising to your senses. 

“What is it, baby? Don’t like it?” When he wanted to, Jungkook could tease even better with words than fingers or lips.

“You know I do..” You grunted. “You’re…serious about this?” 

Jungkook nodded. Several of his fingers curled against the dark brick bracing your back. Unlike you, his face showed no sign that he minded the cold or discomfort of brick.

Red bits crumbled under his dragging nails, tumbling down the wall when one hand clenched to a decent sized fist.

“Touch me, Y/n. Just for a little bit. Let’s have some fun… Keep warm.” His nose slipped by your cheek again as he hummed

You whined, but your hand moved on its own, slipping down from his chest. Fingers brushed the button at his waist. When they tugged, Jungkook’s hips chased, rutting into you. The button popped open easily enough. You shoved that hand down into the hot darkness, palm shamelessly full of Jungkook’s girthy, hard cock. 

Jungkook’s head lolled backwards and the fingers on his other hand trembled, then splayed flatter. It was like he was trying to hold onto the wall AND sanity for dear life. That thrilled you enough to loosen a mewl.

“Like this?” You gasped, burying your face against his neck. The tight lines of muscle shifted as he nodded but otherwise stayed as still as he could. Occasionally his pelvis ticked into your touch.

Another growl exploded after a moment, when the base of your palm brushed against the underside of his tip. 

“Y/n..” He hissed. Hot breath wafted across your scalp as Jungkook tucked nose and lips onto the dampened chaos there.

“Fuck..feels so good.. Please.” The building earnesty at the end of his statement made you weak. 

You groped. It wasn’t long, standing there against the wall, that the tide turned inside you. Chill melted away and a roaring heat took over, passing over every inch of your skin.

Your fingers circled the thick center of that cock that belonged to you–as far as you were concerned. 

And Jungkook seemed to share that sentiment, kissing your part with a low moan. More hip rolls pushed him firmer into the cradle of your palm. The you from hours ago would never believe your future self if you’d try to warn that you’d be here. Doing this. In the alley outside a favorite local spot. 

Soon it was slippery as the precum seeping from Jungkook’s tip slid along your wrist with each stroke. He pushed particularly hard every few pumps. Everything was frictionless and gooey, and you didn’t want to stop, but your mouth watered at the desire to pull your palm out and give a long lick to taste. 

You found your own belly tight and your thighs shook as you finally gave in and moaned in response. Jungkook’s profile turned and he moved down, letting his mouth rest at the shell of your ear. 

Still, his hips undulated against you. Every nudge had your pussy aching more and more.

“God I want you..” 

Your blood boiled. Whatever was building inside was about to spill over. Either from your lips or your pussy–it was a neck and neck race. Words were bottle necked behind your clamped lips and slick the same when you hitched a knee and brought that calf around the back of Jungkook’s thigh. 

His chest rumbled with a laugh. It creaked at the end, with another low growl. He drew your earlobe between his lips and nibbled, then sucked. Your eyes went heavy. You clamped around nothing, dying at how empty you felt, even if your hand was overflowing with pulsing, silky flesh.

Even the sound of laughter somewhere beyond the mouth of the alley didn’t register much now. It was just you, panting into the balmy blackness of Jungkook’s coat lining. Sucking in his scent, mouthfuls at a time, and whining every time he fucked your tightening grip. 

The way his cock slid through your grasp, you knew it’d sound so wet if you were back at the apartment, with him splayed on the bed, tongues twisting along each other and moans rising in the dimly lit space. 

You could almost recall the faint creak of the bed–no doubt it’d happen with every body roll. Jungkook’s fantastic ass leaving the bed as he fucked up into your hand. Or maybe your mouth, head kicked back and arms splayed wide, fisting pillows or sheets, bare chested, nipples glossy from your lips. 

Your own tingling between his fingers as he tugged. Groaned. Begged for a breast over his mouth so he could eat you alive. 

But the reality brought you back as a car sped by, tires hissing as they rolled through puddles just across the way. You didn’t look up, unphased. 

“Y/n..” Jungkook gasped, then drew in a breath, holding it. His chest puffed against yours. Your head came up. 

“Hmm?” You could barely open your eyes, mound burning with an unholy ache. You swore the tip of your finger was on that large vein running straight up the underside of his cock. And it was full of blood, keeping that organ primed for whatever else it might need to fuck.

“I’m close, baby..” He grinned, the shine from the nearby street lights flashing across his teeth. 

You nodded, then raised your chin. “Kiss me..” Your turn to demand. Wasn’t Jungkook always telling you he liked it when you were a little greedy and demanding? He wasn’t shy in telling you how he felt you could do that kind of thing a little more. 

The plump, sweet lines of Jungkook’s mouth connected to yours as he dropped his head down again, aligning his face perfectly to yours. As you kissed again, even deeper than before, your hand sped up, squeezing him tighter. Almost strangling his shaft. He whimpered and gave a few hard pumps. Suddenly he was shaking. 

He broke the kiss quickly. The energy was right there at the crest, filling him to the brim–even the ends of his bangs shivering. 

You loved that his eyes were screwed shut so tight. Whatever height he was at, the fall was going to be glorious. You recognized it from all those times he’d been inside you, ready to blow. 

Jungkook’s tongue lashed across his lips, then they fell open wider. His throat flexed as it forced out another whine–higher pitched. Desperate. 

“Don’t stop..” You hadn’t planned to, laying the side of your face against his chest. Inside the galloping thud of his heart was so big. So alive. Like a wild stallion racing across the plain.

One thing about him: that wild, untamed way about this man was something you hoped he held onto forever. Even if you’d domesticated him just enough to keep him by your side. 

Jungkook’s hips jerked a handful of times. Your name slipped from his lips in a confused sigh, then warmth wetness spurted along your forearm and ran down. Along your palm and fingers. Down along his shaft.

By the time it was over, there was no denying: there’d be an amazing, undeniable wet spot at the front of his pants. 

And so be it–he’d done it enough times to YOU. Basically he was owed this, if you looked at it the right way. 

Jungkook’s tight body relaxed against you, pinning your hand between his groin and yours. For a moment it didn’t really matter. 

When a few droplets splashed onto the top of your head, bringing a stark coldness, your eyes fluttered open. You shrugged a little against Jungkook and finally his head came back up. He was staring into your eyes, but you could see he was long gone for the moment.

“You’re a bad girl..” A lopsided, fucked out grin painted his face. 

Your brows lowered and you scoffed. If you’d been stronger you’d have pushed him back a little and swatted that chest. Wake him from his dopey state for that little dig. Instead you snorted, head tilting carefully to the side. It was enough effort to ignore the roughness of the brick wall rumpling your hair.

You arched a brow.

“You like bad girls. At least that’s what I heard..” 

Jungkook tucked a kiss just under the apple of your cheek, then he leaned away enough to push his hand down and lay it over yours. Fingers laced with each coated digit as if he didn’t care at all. That was hot in a whole different way–enough to remind you how unsatiated you still felt. 

He brought your hand back out and barely glanced before letting it fall, then he backed up a few steps, into a slice of headlight sweeping across the alley mouth as another car passed by. He also didn’t seem to care about that.

With a flippant toss of his bangs, Jungkook grinned again. 

That couldn’t just be the rain shining all over his face and neck. There wasn’t anyone in the world who looked so good roughed up by a quickie–nevermind the nagging specifics of what KIND of quickie it could be. 

Jungkook tugged the zipper back up in a quick motion, then redid the button. 

You leaned upright, stepping away from the wall too. Just by the way your hair fell, you knew it was a good mess, but kept yourself from feeling and ‘fixing’. Instead you watch Jungkook. And he looked you in the eyes now, tugging his coat back evenly over both shoulders and smoothing the lapels.

“Our ride should be here..” To be so casual–if it wasn’t for the cheshire smile you’d have kicked his shin. Or grabbed a half brick laying nearby and lobbed it hard for the space between his perfect brows.

But there wasn’t shame from having done this with him. Instead, when Jungkook pulled you close, it was another rush of arousal. Unquenched desire. Gnawing pain that centered right between your thighs. 

Jungkook’s open palm slid across your mound and a pleased thrum bubbled up. 

“You’re so warm, Y/n. I like how daring you are. Is that my influence or have you just been sitting on this and saving it for when we agreed to get serious?” 

“Koo–” You began, groping for his wrist. You held so hard he stopped completely for a moment. Even though he glowered down here in the alley, you knew it wasn’t anger or annoyance. It was the same arousal you felt. No doubt in your mind. 

“Y/n.” He parroted your scolding tone, wearing the hottest smirk you’d ever seen from him. And that was saying A LOT. He’d managed MANY hot smirks in the time you’d known him.

Your grip pulsed and your eyes softened.  “What about me?” You tugged faintly, lower lip jutting a little. 

“Mmmnn… I’ll take care of you when we get home. I promise. That you did this…Y/n I can’t tell you what it does to me.” 

“I can. It’s all over my wrist and hand.” You chuckled, nodding down at your tacky palm, then tucking it along your side.

Jungkook snickered. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m done. A couple minutes until the Lyft gets here. Won’t be a long drive home. That’s enough time to get my second wind.” 

“You know we COULD walk and save the money. Someone told me it’s peak hours.” 

“Right, but then we’d lose the time off our feet. Time that I have plans on occupying.” 

“In the Lyft?”

His scandalousness knew no bounds. But you also knew he had limits.

Jungkook shrugged, behind a cheeky smirk. “Not what we did here.”

“Thank god..” You sighed, eyes rolling. “I was starting to worry..” 

After looking you over, then himself, Jungkook turned. Using your grip on him, he pulled you along to the alley mouth and paused to lean out. He glanced left then right, and you did the same from over one shoulder. It felt like the safest place–just in case.

It was insane to worry that you’d come out to an audience and applause. Or even giggling questions and a cop with a ticket book, ready to give you a public indecency ticket. All the same, relief had you a little light headed.

Common sense and anxiety were back as expected, along with the creeping cold. Now the sweat on your skin was working against you–with the help of the still dropping evening temperature.

“Maybe a little heavy petting…” Jungkook finished his thought. Your bug eyed star met his back as he stepped out completely. You followed, keeping up decently.

You hadn’t actually had sex but it was impressive how he made your legs feel like rubber. That didn’t bode well for what your condition would be back at the apartment, in a few hours. Or tomorrow morning. 

“Jungkook.. You can’t do that kind of thing in a Lyft.” 

“Why not?” He eyed you over one shoulder as you stopped at the curb, not quite where you’d both waited before. This time his skin was faintly steaming and it was downright magical. Along with his rakish smile, Jungkook made the moment feel like a fever sex dream that was about to get VERY good. 

“I can’t believe—” You started to wind up until Jungkook brought your hand to his mouth and his lips pressed one knuckle. 

“I wasn’t being serious, Y/n. I know better. But you’re in trouble when we get through that door.” 

“Am I?” 

“Mmmmnnn.” He kissed your middle knuckle firmer, then popped off and circled it with his tongue. You gulped and cursed softly. His stare hadn’t wavered the whole time he’d done those actions, with the very same intensity as if he was on top of you, pushing you towards an explosive high while you rapidly lost control of every limb. 

You let your swoon turn into a list right into his side. Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your middle. He finally turned his focus towards the far end of the street, from where you’d expect the Lyft to be arriving. In the distance a car turned onto the road and headlights slowly made their way closer. A chime emanated from Jungkook’s coat pocket, but he didn’t move. Instead he smiled. 

“There..We’re in business now. Start the clock, Y/n.” He said, as you stepped in front of him when the car coasted to a stop right in front of where you stood. Jungkook leaned around you and opened the door for you to climb in. 

He followed quickly after and settled in, shutting the door. No sooner had he done that, then his palm found your thigh and rested on top. He was watching the driver and offered a muted smile, then a nod. The guy traded a few words, then turned back. 

Jungkook’s eyes were fixed ahead, watching the driver. His palm climbed your thigh just a little. Something told you it wouldn’t be stopping there. You grabbed his wrist again, but not to stop him. Just like he’d done, you held on for the ride. 

No matter where you went with him, the call of the bedroom would eventually come. Funny how it always sounded like Jungkook. 

He spoke quietly, lips curling with a smile. Even so there was no way you didn’t hear it. You FELT it, with every syllable clawing at your center. Between sweat and remnant rain drops, you’d never be dry.

“Let’s go.”  

I love this. BIG agreement here. It was one reason that I initially had to step back: the nitpicking over my YN personalities, looks or choices.

If something fits you in places but not others with a fan fic, take what works and appreciate it, then move on. If you want something different, write your own stuff. I promise it's worth it.

when y'all read x reader fan fiction, do you guys not use it as escapism? because the way you guys complain about not relating 100% to reader. like sometimes i want to imagine myself as a flirtatious reader or a complete bitch. like do y'all not imagine yourselves with a completely different personality and read it for the storytelling? you do not have to relate to every aspect of the reader and it's completely fine. some of y'all have boring lives outside of fan fiction, so use it as your escape from real life because some of y'all act like y'all want it to mirror every single aspect of it.