OH MY FREAKING GOD - Tumblr Posts

💥OH MY FREAKING GOD💥

Thank you @tapioquinhasolitaria for these likes, reblogs and messages!!!!💖

Oh meu deus kkkk

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Combative [1/1]

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: PWP (i.e., pure filth), comedy, sex pollen

Summary: Fuck Jungkook or die. That’s it. That’s the story.

Relevant tags: Assassins AU, porn without plot, friends to enemies to enemies, fuck or die, aliens (seokjin) made us do it, edging, oral sex, multiple x10 orgasms, mild size kink, mild corruption kink, superhuman sex toys, overstimulation, mean!jjk, softdom!jjk

Masterlist

One hot summer, somewhere in Barcelona, Black Ops Agent Jeon Jungkook is about to put a bullet in your leg when he:

flips his motorbike over a stubborn cobblestone, and

goes careening into a fruit stall, and

rips through the storefront tarp, thus

tumbling through some bizarre interspatial portal into a foreign vessel... because, apparently, karma said so.

"Welcome, human male. My name is Seokjin," a lilac-haired, dual-antennae alien greets, hovering over Jungkook with a put-upon smile. "We shall wait for human female before commencing."

Jungkook sits up, scrubbing at his face, half-wondering if there was something in the muffin he stole from you earlier.

No matter. He cocks his gun at Seokjin.

Seokjin warns, nonchalant, “It will not work.”

Because he’s paid by the hour and because he’s a good ten minutes behind schedule, Jungkook fires anyways.

The bullet sails right through Seokjin, bounces off the wall, and hops back into Jungkook’s lap.

Jungkook squints. “What.”

Seokjin sighs, “Human male, weapons do not work in this dimension.”

So, as any well-trained assassin would, Jungkook tosses his gun and climbs up from the floor.

“I presume people still die in this dimension,” He says, and is about to lunge at Seokjin when an equally well-trained foot shoots through the exact portal he was dumped out of and lands square on his jaw.

"Yah, Jeon Asshat,” You snarl, kicking him out of your way as you flick chunks of shrapnel from your shoulder. “Did you seriously catapult yourself into an alternate dimension after ALMOST KILLING ME—"

"Human female has arrived," Seokjin announces, needlessly.

“Who...” you start, then pause, taking in your glowy metallic surroundings and Seokjin’s name tag and Jungkook’s abandoned gun on the floor.

But Jeon Jungkook never abandons his gun.

"I didn’t hit your head, did I?" You check, not that you’re concerned.

Except possibly a bit.

Jungkook climbs to his feet and dusts himself off. “Hey, did you eat a muffin earlier?"

“What muffin,” you say, eyes narrowing. "Were you the one who stole my muffin."

Of course, this is when Jungkook decides to hear nothing.

“I guess that means this is real. We really are here,” he concludes, turning to Seokjin, whose antennae bob bashfully, “Why are we here again?”

Too impatient for any AU that does not involve strangling Jungkook with your bare hands, you grab him by the cuff of his leather jacket and start hauling him towards the portal door. "Let's go, asshat. We have a score to settle."

"Alas, humans, you may not depart," Seokjin says, and the portal door conveniently winks shut, "not before you consummate."

Jungkook stares.

You stare harder.

“Consummate?” Jungkook laughs, slow, bewildered, maybe a smidge intrigued, "Consummate... what?"

“Consummate,” Seokjin gesticulates at the two of you with a sparkly blue pen, "Each other."

You rip off Jungkook’s jacket and chuck it humorlessly at Seokjin. "That’s enough. Come on, Jeon Asshat. Work day’s almost over."

And yes, Jungkook would love to resume the act of throwing your unconscious body off a bridge so he can finally get the promotion he deserves, but his feet aren't totally cooperating.

Actually, they’re inching towards you.

And then, as if pulled by invisible strings, his arms are lifting on no will of his own and then his fingers are tangling into your hair and bringing it to his nose and since when was it so soft and why does it smell so good.

“Uh,” Jungkook blinks at you rapidly, pupils blown wide open. “Nice shampoo.”

You scowl at him, meaning to cross your arms, except you can’t move a muscle.

Nani the fuck.

"For your information, I have already prepared several practical surfaces," Seokjin explains helpfully, "for when human male mounts human female."

You’re physically frozen but your lips are thinning into a sweetly homicidal smile, and crap, Jungkook thinks, how does one dispose of alien bodies in outer space.

"What the fuck," you ask Seokjin, calm, ready to murder, “gave you the impression that this asshole would mount me?”

Unbothered, Seokjin brings up a large projector, filling the space between you with holographic projections of you in some unimaginably wild positions, bent like a master yogi, wearing racy skimpy lacey lingerie you can’t quite recall owning.

“What is this?” You ask, horrified, but also kind of flattered because you’re pretty sure your tits are not that big.

“It is Jungkook’s,” Seokjin starts, then glances at Jungkook for permission.

Jungkook’s got the distinct countenance of tomato when he clarifies, ears burning red, “My dream.”

“Your dream,” You echo, incredulous. “Really. You seduce women for a living, and you dream of me.”

“Not his dream, in fact. His fully conscious, totally focused imagination,” Seokjin clarifies.

“For fuck’s sake,” You chuckle, unimpressed. “You wouldn’t.”

Eyes suspiciously averted, Jungkook takes the fifth.

“Hang on,” You gasp, “You? You?” and you can’t quite fathom how to put wank and Jungkook in the same sentence so you just point to his crotch and whisper, faintly, “To me?”

“Your pants were tight in Ibiza,” Jungkook admits, cheeks dark. “Like super tight.”

“We were diving and my pants were a standard-issue wet suit,” You cry.

"So," Seokjin says, generally disinterested in this discourse, and checks his watch. “Ready?”

Momentarily, the invisible strings holding the two of you in place seem to loosen because you finally manage to knock the pen out of Seokjin’s hand and stab it into his face and--

“Not gonna work,” Jungkook says, friendly.

--and the pen just melts through him.

You gape at the astoundingly useless pen and back at Seokjin, “...what?”

“Human female, you may return to earth once he mounts you,” Seokjin says, unfazed, taking his pen back from you.

You don’t mean to scream but you have a temper thing that therapy hasn’t entirely resolved so you shout, face blazing red, "What makes you think I'd let anyone, but especially Jeon Jungkook, top me in any fucking universe—”

"My data indicates human male is older," Seokjin argues, as the holograph flips to a chart of the two of you, side by side, 3D renderings of your bodies in disconcertingly fine detail, “and is in possession of a sizeable penis.”

Jungkook’s cheeks darken more.

“I wouldn’t say huge,” He says, obnoxiously humble.

“Your hubris would be well-deserved,” Seokjin informs him. “It is the largest of all participants to date.”

“But I’m stronger,” you argue, attempting to steer the conversation around. “I should do the mounting.”

Seokjin lifts a questioning brow.

“Fine,” You concede weakly. “I’m faster.”

Like a fucking asshole, because he is, Jungkook just smirks.

"No,” you insist, pontificating aggressively, “I’ve won every hand-to-hand combat we’ve been in since Johannesburg. I’m faster.”

Jungkook shrugs, condescending, “To be fair, I haven’t really been in combat since Johannesburg.”

“Let me go,” You tell Seokjin, “and I’ll show you.”

Jungkook’s smirk grows wider.

“Certainly,” Seokjin agrees. “But I must first inform you of the rules.”

“There are rules?” Jungkook asks, as if he’s actually interested.

“Yes,” Seokjin says. “This chamber has been designed so that, should both parties not reach a state of orgasm at the same time and intensity, both shall die. Should the condition be met, however, both parties shall be returned to Planet Earth.”

“Who designed this chamber,” You snarl, fists clenching. “I demand a word with him.”

“I designed the chamber,” Seokjin says, unperturbed. “And you have twelve hours.”

Very interested and very full of himself, Jungkook says, “I need two hours, tops.”

“Same time,” Seokjin reminds him, obscurely. “And same intensity.”

“Same intensity? What does that even mean?” You frown.

In lieu of a response, Seokjin retreats into a small, translucent capsule at the other end of the vessel. As the shiny door closes behind him, Seokjin says, “I will leave you to find out. I thank you for your contribution to science today.”

And the invisible strings loosen entirely.

You turn to face Jungkook, eyes narrowed with menace, “If you so much as think of fucking me, asshat, you will perish.”

Jungkook runs his tongue over his lip and says, in the self-assured way that makes your blood pressure rocket, “Funny, you’ve never managed to kill me before.”

Seokjin’s discombobulated voice crackles over the intercom, “Eleven hours and fifty-five minutes remaining.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself upside down.

Literally.

Jungkook’s holding you upside down, arms wrapped firmly around your waist, head digging down between your legs, and actually, you’ve been in this position before, that one time in Macau when you wrestled him into a pit of komodo dragons.

But presently, you’re not in Macau. No, you’re listening to some alien rip into a fresh bag of popcorn and declare over the intercom, with abject disinterest, “Eleven hours left.”

Suffice to say, komodo dragons would be better.

“Fight me,” You yell, kicking into the air as Jungkook nudges aside your underwear. “I’ll rip your antennae—”

“Focus,” Jungkook reminds you, and buries his whole face into your cunt. “Do you want to die?”

“I am focused,” You snap, trying not to shake with the way Jungkook’s decided to warm up by pushing his tongue inside of you. “You suck someone’s dick upside down.”

“Need help?” He asks, into your cunt.

You pull his half-hard, stupid heavy cock out of your mouth and tell him, “Fuck you.”

Apparently, that’s permission for Jungkook to slam you against the wall. Just one step forward and his cock has jammed all the way down and into your throat, so much of it at once you choke and gag at the same time.

Pawing at his leg, you moan, “Mmffff! (the fuck!)”

Jungkook pauses and peers down at you. Whatever he sees makes his lips quirk. His cock swells inside of you, so big that you can’t breathe for a second.

But Jungkook wouldn’t care about you, of course not. Instead, he just groans and fucks himself in deeper, because he wouldn’t know the meaning of sportsmanship if it socked him in the eye.

Eventually, he asks, like he gives a shit, “This better?”

“AFFHHH (Asshole),” You moan, tongue cramped against his tip, lips rubbed raw, words muffled around a mouthful of cock. And Jungkook, only mildly interested in what you have to say, pulls out for maybe one second, which is barely long enough for you to gasp and cough and sputter a haggard “No, ass—”

Before he plugs you up again.

“Can’t do that,” he tells you, breathless, sounding far too pleased with himself, “for both our sakes.”

Well acquainted with Jungkook’s brand of pettiness, you roll your eyes and play along, because what other choice do you have.

Over the next five, ten minutes, Jungkook doesn’t slow down one bit, just keeps fucking your mouth until your eyes are stinging and your jaw literally feels like it’s about to snap off. It’s an invasive feeling, being used like a piece of meat, but what’s factually worse is that it’s Jeon Jungkook.

You’ve heard the rumors about Jungkook, the things he do in bed--and there are plenty of them--but no number of words can come close to the way his tongue is kneading greedily into your slit, gliding meticulously over each crease, panting hard against you, licking up every drop of slick until there’s nothing left.

And then, as he pulls away to speak, his tongue grazes over your clit.

In a really weird way.

“SSAAUPH,” You shriek, attempting to force him off of you.

Jungkook pulls his dick out of your mouth. “What was that?”

“Stop, I’m going to come,” You tell him weakly.

“Great,” He tells you, about to shove his dick in again.

“NO,” You jab towards Seokjin’s capsule, “Remember? Together? The rules?”

“You can come twice,” Jungkook shrugs, unconcerned, and does that thing with his tongue again and—

“You are so fucking dead,” you vow, shivering uncontrollably.

—he does it harder--

“FUCK,” You scream, legs trembling pathetically over his shoulders, back arching against the wall. “I WILL KILL YOU.”

Jungkook laughs, every kind of fucked in the head, “How? Certainly not by entertaining me to death?”

You could totally just bite his dick off, you could totally do it, but you also need him alive to—

With scientific curiosity, Jungkook nips a bit more at your clit and then sucks on it.

“ESSHU FFAA KOWW (JESUS FUCKING CHRIST),” You wail, legs jolting uselessly as they squeeze tight against the sides of his head.

“Not trying to kill me again, are you?” Jungkook sneers, dark. Once again, he rubs his tongue in that exact angle over your clit and your entire spine just liquifies.

You gasp and gag and you want to sob but you can’t. You can’t even breathe.

“Full transparency,” Jungkook says, thrusting casually into your mouth, not nearly enough to get off on it, albeit enough to keep you quiet and muffled. He’s kind of just playing with your clit for fun now, a mischievous little glint in his eye each time your body quakes in overstimulated shock. “I’ve always respected your tenacity.”

Then he realizes you aren’t responding anymore because you’re about to pass out, so he puts you down and props you up against the wall.

“Hey, hey,” He greets, snapping rapidly at your face. “Wake up, weakling. I’m not even close yet.”

As soon as the blood drains back out of your head, you snap your leg out into a front kick, but Jungkook just catches you by the ankle and holds you down, like you’re nothing.

“Stop calling me weakling,” you demand, struggling feebly against him.

“Face it,” Jungkook reminds you, completely civil, then wedges himself between your legs and lifts your hips up until your pussy is just hovering before his face. “You’ll never be able to kill me. I’m stronger, faster, better.”

Too exhausted to argue, you squeeze your eyes shut and mutter, “Lies.”

There is a long tense pause and Jungkook doesn’t move. No, he simply holds you there, breath washing up cold against you, waiting for you to look up at him.

When you do, he catches you dead in the eye and grins, “Wanna bet.”

You don’t hold onto useless things like pride, but you do have a limit.

“I can destroy you,” you grit out. “Easily.”

“No you can’t,” Jungkook shrugs.

So you push all your weight off your forearm and twist sideways, throwing Jungkook into the floor. He tries to roll you forward, but you’ve fought him a million times. You know all his favorite moves like the back of your hand.

And besides, you were the one who taught him judo.

In three seconds, you’ve got Jungkook pinned beneath you. As he rolls onto his back, his dick smacks up wet against his stomach, tip shiny with precum.

“Would you look at that,” you tut, bending easily over him until your mouth is hovering over his cock, “Maybe I do want to bet.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches up in excitement.

Feigning otherwise, he says, “Yeah, sure, blow me to death.”

Nah, you hate him far too much to do that.

Instead, you push the flat of your tongue against his balls, curling one into your mouth, and Jungkook moans and shakes like he’s about to combust, so you bring your head down again and suck the other one into your mouth too and Jungkook…

“Is that a whine?” You laugh, patronizing, but your voice reverberates into his balls and the muscle of his stomach jumps and, OK, that’s objectively hot.

“Fuck,” He groans, too on edge to pretend otherwise, “Jesus, fuck, do that again.”

You think about it, then decide to let him out of your mouth.

“God,” Jungkook cries out, eyes widening with dismay, “put it back.”

You’re starting to see the appeal of this now. “Say ‘(Y/N), you’re stronger, faster, better than me.’”

“Believe me, I can make your life so miserable,” Jungkook threatens adorably.

“Of course you can. Say,” You sing, licking up a slick, flat trail up the side of his cock. “(Y/N), you’re stronger, faster, better than me.”

Jungkook wilts and cants his hips towards your face, ears pink, so unbecomingly embarrassed. “…You’re faster.”

You pop his tip into your mouth, rubbing your lips against where it makes him tremble, “And?”

“Stronger,” Jungkook admits, voice rough. “Better.”

Pleased enough, you take his cock into your mouth. It’s huge, stupidly, uselessly big, but you’re generous enough to down it. All of it. His precum tastes salty and metallic and you swallow, throat clamping tight around the head of his cock, and—

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook groans beneath you, as if he’d actually cry. “Oh my—Jesus—fuck me—”

And his balls, you suck those up into your mouth, too.

“WHO,” Jungkook yells, voice wavering like a leaf in the wind, craning up to see what you’re doing that feels like that.“WHO ARE YOU.”

You let him go, if only because you can’t have him come too many times. Jungkook, without missing a beat, reaches up and pulls your knees down beside his shoulders, until you’re collapsed over him.

“We’ll make it out here alive,” you tell him. “So I can kill you.”

“You'll kill me anyways,” he agrees half-heartedly, parting your lips with both hands,  lapping up at you like a man starved.

You only need to hollow your cheeks out around him and bob your head maybe half a dozen times before Jungkook starts shaking, his cock rock hard against your throat.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and thrusts two fingers eagerly into you, digging right where it makes your vision white.

And, like a miracle, he bucks into your mouth at the exact same time.

You come hard, stars misting over everything you can see, mouth filling with globs of Jungkook’s release. Without warning, Jungkook grabs you by the neck, forcing you down to take all of him.

A moment later, slumped bonelessly into the ground, Jungkook says, as an after thought, “Sorry.”

You sit up beside him, lips swollen, hair a right mess, Jungkook’s come dribbling off your chin. “You’ve done worse.”

Not quite able to look away from your mouth, Jungkook asks, “Seokjin, can we go?”

There is a pause.

“No,” Seokjin says. “You must achieve orgasm in a mating position.”

“A mating—,” you yell, pelting a high-heeled shoe at Seokjin’s capsule, “I will kill you.”

“Yes she will,” Jungkook yells in solidarity, plucking your other shoe off and throwing it, “And I will help her.”

“Good luck. I’m immortal,” Seokjin says.“Ten hours remaining.”

And the intercom buzzes off.

“Don’t get any wrong ideas. If I fuck you,” You inform Jungkook, as one professional to another, “It is strictly for survival.”

“Not me,” Jungkook says, simply to get a rise out of you. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

“Seriously,” You huff, climbing over him.

“It’s true,” Jungkook mumbles, staring shamelessly at the way your hand is wrapping around his cock, fingers just barely meeting around it. Somehow you can actually feel his arousal flare when you line his cock up against your entrance.

He stops breathing, momentarily, hands stone tight on your thigh as he watches you lower yourself, as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

And it’s cute, how wrecked the world-renowned Jeon Jungkook looks.

But then the problem presents itself.

It’s a massive fucking problem.

It doesn’t fit.

“What the hell,” You yelp, frozen tentatively mid-air, brain hardly comprehending the thought.

Well no, you kind of realized it before, when Jungkook fucked your mouth so full it felt like your jaw would snap off but, why the fuck is he so big?

Clearly too preoccupied with warming his cock to care, Jungkook ruts up half-way against you. But half-way already feels like he’s splitting you open, and what the fuck, surely that is not natural, surely—

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jungkook groans, guttural, grinding deeper into you, just a bit. Honestly, he’s hardly moved, but the sheer thickness of his cock, the fact that somehow it seems too long to be real, too fat to fit your tiny pussy, it takes the air out of you.

But Jungkook doesn’t notice you, of course not. He doesn’t see how your brows have knotted together, doesn’t see your mouth parting slowly, doesn’t feel you clutching helplessly at him. All he sees is the delicious way your pussy is parting for him, hot and tight and—

“Shit,” he hisses, looking drunk for no reason, and his hands come to grab at your ass, and you just know what’s next.

“Wait wait wait wait WAIT A MINUTE,” You scream, attempting to move, but then Jungkook just grabs you and yanks you down all the way onto his cock, buries himself balls deep inside of you. The sheer pressure of it knocks every single thought out of your head. Your eyes roll back. Your jaw snaps wide fucking open.

And Jungkook, somehow, sees that.

“Fuck,” He rasps, eyes clouded with arousal, inching out just enough to thrust into you again, “You look fucking hot.”

“I’m going to,” You start, but the words come out in a whimper. “Jungkook, I’m—”

Jungkook sits up half-way and pulls you into him and you had something to say, you did, but presently you can’t figure anything out except the way Jungkook is kissing you and fucking you at the same time, bouncing you like a toy over his cock, grunting into your mouth like you’re the one fucking all the thoughts out of him.

And then, with broken moan, Jungkook snaps his hips into you and—

“Are you kidding me,” You snarl, feeling his cock throb inside of you.

Still in a haze, Jungkook blinks, “What?”

“Asshat,” You hiss, furious, “You understand that I refuse to die on your dick.”

“Oh,” Jungkook stares.

Then his thoughts catch up and he hisses back, as if he has any right, “Do you think I’m enjoying this!”

“As a matter of fact,”Seokjin comments, “The pleasure center in your brain is lighting up like a disco, human male”

“Did I ask,” Jungkook says, with shame.

You sneer.

“Human female too,” Seokjin says. “Fireworks for you.”

Jungkook turns to you, gaze darkening and brewing, “Fireworks, huh?”

“Whatever,” You scoff. His cum dribbles out of you as you climb off of him, and Jungkook’s stare intensifies.

He says, sounding oddly serious, pointing to a table-like structure to the side, “Wanna try it from behind.”

“What do you m—”

Wordlessly, Jungkook throws you over his shoulder and drops you over the table, fucking into you with the urgency of a dog in heat. His hand comes to grab at your hair, pulling you back into his cock so he can fill you to the hilt with each thrust.

Craning over you, Jungkook sucks greedily at the nape of your neck, at your shoulders, and when he feels you gasping, feels your walls convulsing around his cock, your legs buckling, he holds you upright by the hips.

And he says, into the shell of your ears, tone hot and cold at once, “Not yet.”

“What,” You start, but then Jungkook pulls out, until there’s nothing but the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Wait for me,” He says, guiding your jaw towards him.

This time, he rocks into you slowly, not nearly enough for anything.Instead of pounding you, he mouths over your neck, your ear, your chin. By the time his lips graze yours, you’re fucking yourself up against him, soft needy whines pouring steadily out of your lips.

“Just fuck me, asshat,” you plead.

Jungkook decides, dry and low and so fucking conniving, “Is that how you say please?”

“Please,” you repeat, louder, face burning with shame. You’d honestly rather die but at the same time you’re so closeit’s actually insane. “Please fuck me.”

“Should say that more often,” Jungkook grins, pressing a chaste little kiss on your mouth before he rams into you, so hard you totter over the table. Jungkook locks your wrists in his grip and angles you up, so that you’ve got nowhere to go but take his cock as he pounds the daylight out of you. The air fills with the wet squelch of his cock driving into your pussy, the dull thud of the table leg against the floor as he drives you to the edge, over the edge, entirely off the edge.

When he comes, Jungkook bites down into your shoulder and shudders with his whole body. He collapses bonelessly into you.

But then Seokjin says, “That was very close, but not the same intensity.”

“But,” You start, trying to think. “But.”

“Ohhh,” Jungkook says, enlightened, “That’s what you meant.”

“What the fuck do you mean,” You mutter, murderous, spinning to glare at Jungkook, “Ohhh?”

There is the slightest hint of an apology in Jungkook’s voice when he says, “I can’t help it. It’s my third time.”

You stare.

“Yah, asshat,” You shout, “IT’S MY FUCKING FIFTH.”

“But your pussy is so,” Jungkook says, and he squeaks the tiniest little “sweet”

At this point, probably concerned for the life of his male subject, Seokjin remotes a cabinet open and says, supportively, “The female orgasm has always proven elusive. Perhaps mechanical stimulation would help.”

“I DON’T NEED MECHANICAL STIMULATION,” You cry, except Jungkook’s already armed himself with an arsenal of neon, dangerously wiggly weapons. “SEOKJIN, TELL HIM.”

“The round one has proven particularly effective,” Seokjin says, traitorous.

“This?” Jungkook picks up a little soft, squishy looking pad.

“Yes,” Seokjin says. “It is a virtual model of her erogenous zones. I advise you touch it.”

Curious, Jungkook strokes one finger over it.

And you feel it on your cunt.

“What,” You gasp, tripping over yourself, falling into the floor in a heap. “What was that.”

“Was what?” Jungkook asks, then strokes his finger over it again.

You mutter, crawling backwards so fast you don’t even see the wall until it bashes into the back of your head. “Jeon Jungkook.”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, brain cells working away. “Cool.”

“What are you doing,” You whisper, eyes wide, thoughts forming and seizing at the same time.

Jungkook blinks, and with a childlike sort of malice, pushes his finger into it.

And his finger is inside of you.

“WHAT THE FUCK,” You shriek, putting your own hand on your pussy, covering it as if to bar him from entry.

It doesn’t work.

He’s still inside of you.

Amused, Jungkook digs around a little.

For the lack of a better word, you lose it. “JEON JUNGKOOK—I WILL—”

“Will what?” Jungkoook asks, curling his finger right into where it makes you scream, and your eyes roll all the way back.

“Ahh,”you whine, sounding so unbearably needy.

“I like that voice of yours,” Jungkook grins, and then he puts his tongue on it.

You squeeze your legs shut but his tongue, the wetness, the heat, the firm pressure against your clit, it just makes you quake and buckle and Jungkook, like he doesn’t know, asks, “How does it feel?”

“Like hell,” You lie, face hot, body hot, burning all over.

“Come here,” He says, sweetly, stroking a hand over his cock. He doesn’t have to, though, it’s already so hard it springs up with each step that he takes.

“Don’t you dare,” You tell him, attempting to crawl away.

But Jungkook is making you weak, turning you inside out, and he doesn’t even have to try to capture you.

“Take one for the team,” He says, caging over you, spreading your legs, thrusting into you, mouth on the pad, eating you out and fucking you at the same time. It’s the weirdest single feeling on planet earth and it takes less than a second for this explosive pressure to bubble inside of you, to the point where you can feel your muscles spasming and--

“Oh,” Jungkook gapes, marvelling down at the pool of liquid gathering beneath you,  “Oh wow. Did you just…”

You’d rather just die. “Don’t say it.”

“That’s amazing,” Jungkook whispers, stars shining in his eyes as he stares at you. “Do that again.”

“Maybe mechanical stimulation is not the right approach,” Seokjin weighs in. “It appears human female has been over-stimulated.”

“Aw,” Jungkook pouts, disappointed.

“WHY ARE YOU POUTING,” you shout, smacking the toy out of Jungkook’s hand. “SEOKJIN, MAKE IT END.”

“That is not up to me,” Seokjin says, diplomatic.

“Sorry,” Jungkook shrugs. “I’ve already come four times. It’s going to be hard for me to come again.”

You really shouldn’t. You know better than this.

But Jungkook’s fucked the sense out of you, so you tell him, “Just do what you have to do.”

So Jungkook, after much deliberation, says, “Get on your knees.”

Because you’re the patron saint of idiocy, you do.

The next thing, Jungkook’s fucked into you all at once, cock slamming hard into your pussy. Without thinking, you writhe up against him, and you can just feel his chest shaking against your back as he laughs, wicked, fond, despicably mean, “I need a little more.”

“What the fuck else can you possibly--” you start, but then Jungkook wets two fingers on your slick and dips it into your ass and, “FUCK, JUNGKOOK.”

“Hang on,” Jungkook tells you, and then his fingers come to stroke at his cock from inside of you, kneading and rubbing at your wall, pinching it between his cock and his finger. And on top of being fucked so full--

“I’M GONNA,” you scream, head snapping back.

Nuzzling into your neck, Jungkook grins and pulls out completely, “Wait.”

“No,” you whine, voice trembling, feeling so unexpectedly empty. “please no.”

Like the devil, Jungkook just licks into your mouth, kiss hot and dirty and wet. This time, he fucks you slowly. Meticulously. Like he’s trying to work you open from the inside. When he bucks into you, finally, minutes later, he does so with a hollow, dry grunt, and allows you a hand on your clit.

You come so hard you don’t even hear yourself screaming.

“Good try,” Seokjin says, after a pause. “Not quite.”

You climb barely enough out of unconsciousness to demand, blearily, “Whose fault is it now.”

Seokjin says, “Yours, human female. You were a bit late.”

A bit out of sorts, you mumble, “Ah.”

“Or,” Jungkook says, nice in a way that almost doesn’t seem real. “I could have been early.”

“You still have five hours left. Imagining positive feelings for one another may help.”

You ponder that thought for a second.

Jungkook says, “Very funny, Seokjin.”

Why do you hate Black Ops Agent Jeon Jungkook?

Many reasons.

He’s arrogant, petty, and morally incorrigible, sure. He’s the poster boy of unrepentant evil, sure.

It’s worse than that.

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, you met seven year-old Jungkook at the judo dojo. Jungkook was smaller than you back then. He had a playful grin and a freakishly competitive streak. Then, three years ago, you ran into the same Jungkook at a bar in Amsterdam. He’d covered himself in tattoos, grew his hair out, and spoke to you in a tone that made you flinch. But when he smiled, he looked sweet and naive, like he hadn’t aged a day since grade school.

And so, a real fucking idiot, you invited him to crash on your couch.

But the next morning, Jungkook disappeared. You found in his stead the corpses of your colleagues, strangled and stabbed and broken, littered across your living room like trash.

He can’t be that bad, you thought.

It must’ve been someone else, you thought.

Six months later, Jungkook sent you a bouquet of live grenades and a card that read, “Lighten up.”

Shit, you thought.

A gift who refused to stop giving, Jungkook kept in touch. Last year, he broke into your apartment and rearranged all your plants. This past Christmas, he “accidentally” threw your fiancé off a building. Yesterday, he nearly crippled you.

And today, he’s got you caged under him like he owns you, his mouth hot on your breast, cock buried so deep inside of you it makes you cry.

So apparently, the universe has decided it shall be Jungkook who fucks you to death, because maybe that was written in the stars all along.

And yeah, you hate Black Ops Agent Jeon Jungkook. You wish him nothing but the worst.

You do.

Around the seventh hour, you’re barely awake when you feel your hips being canted up.

Quietly and without preamble, Jungkook picks you up and sits you down on his dick. He fucks you like that, while you’re half-conscious, bouncing your body up and down his dick, biting and sucking on your nipples, your neck, your lips.

At some point, after he’s fucked you completely awake, you reach back and palm at his balls.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, inhaling sharply, and you know his body well enough to know he’s come. “Why did you do that?”

In lieu of an answer, you push him to the floor and roll your hips over him, grinding tight and fast until he starts squirming beneath you, an incoherent string of ah ah ah ah because he can’t help himself.

You could stop, sure.

But you’re going to die anyways, so whatever.

“Who’s doing the mounting now?” You smirk, watching the way Jungkook’s jolting off the floor, and bend to kiss at his nipples.

It’s either the words or the nipple but somehow, that’s when Jungkook loses it.

Without warning, he grabs you by the neck. He throws you to the floor and drags you into him in one fluid movement.

Next is Jungkook fucking the absolute hell out of you. The way he moves, it’s as if he’s only pulling out enough to fuck back into you. He fucks you so hard and so relentlessly that when you come, your vision whites out. For the longest time, you can’t register a thing except Jungkook’s cock pushing so deep inside of you it feels like you might just split in half.

But Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let you move. He traps you there, gripping down on your ass like he’s trying to sink his fingers into it, fucking you without control, without care, like a fucking animal. He fucks you into the ground, his hard, flushed cock squeezing past your lips, pounding into your sloppy, twitching hole, slamming into where it’s raw and sore and swollen.

You don’t know when he comes. You don’t even know when youcome.

Honestly, you wouldn’t even know if you died. And well, you’re fucked too dumb to care.

Eventually, when you wake, you find Jungkook slumped on top of you, breaths shallow against the nape of your neck.

“Seokjin?” You call out, tentative.

There’s no answer.

“Do you think he’s going to kill us,” You wonder.

“To be fair,” Jungkook says, rolling off of you. He tugs you towards him, until your head’s resting on his shoulder. You don’t think it belongs there, but you’re also too tired to move away, so you just stay still and listen to him talk. “I did always think we’d end up dying together.”

“Huh,” You squint.

After a long beat, you admit, softly, “Me too.”

The truth is, you do hate Jungkook. To the bones, to the very fiber of your being. You do, but.

But hypothetically, if you had to be killed with someone, perhaps Jungkook would not be the worst option.

After a moment, the intercom buzzes on.

“My apologies, humans. Did you ask for me? I took a coffee break.”

“You’re allowed coffee breaks?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes, when the experiment’s over,” Seokjin says, around a mouthful of trail mix.

“What do you mean…” You blink your eyes open, mouth twitching, “the experiment’s over?”

“It ended two hours ago. I announced it.”

You sit upright and parrot, very articulately, “You what when.”

“Human male heard me. I’ve been wondering why you were still here.”

You turn to Jungkook. “You heard him?”

Jungkook opens his eyes a crack, gazing up at you in that old, familiar, lazily homicidal way, and hums, “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.”

“Listen to me, Jeon Asshat,” you inform him. “You are a dead man.”

Jungkook just smiles. “I know.”

“Let’s never meet again,” You announce, beside a Barcelonian fruit stall.

Jungkook flips down the shield of his helmet and agrees, easing into the seat of his jet black motorcycle, “Never.”

“So, tell me,” Jimin asks, as he flags down a waiter, “what do you do for work?”

“Not much,” You say, tracing your finger over the wineglass. “Topple governments, sabotage arms deals.”

Jimin stares at you, then bursts into laughter. “What the hell, you got me!”

“Did I really,” you say, about to giggle, but then you feel something.

Something on your pussy.

Sliding into your pussy.

You rip your gaze away from Jimin and, three tables over, chin resting in one hand, Black Ops Agent Jeon Jungkook casually licks a flat, hard trail up a round, familiar-looking pad, and winks in greeting.

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