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borathae · 3 months

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"Jungkook returns from a work trip, which kept you away from each other for three long weeks. He seeks comfort in the fact that he can finally fall asleep next to you again. Come morning however, those giddy feelings turned into fiery desire. It doesn't matter that you are still sleeping. Jungkook missed you and he needs you."

♢ Requested by @seagulljk ♢

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: cute love notes, naked cuddling, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, she calls him Bunny, consensual somnophilia, humping of her butt, thigh fucking, needy!Kook, begging, needy kisses, praise kink, good boy kink, spooning position, he cums too soon, creampie, sloppy oral (f.receiving), cum eating, pussy fingering, hair pulling (m.receiving), a bit of nipple play, body worshipping, possessive talk (he is all like "I'm yours"), subby boy tears, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: I haven't heard from you in ages *stares longingly into distance* you requested this for Kinktober 22 and I finally finished it. it also fits perfectly into my biggest wish which is "kook comes homes". enjoy besties, this is so lovely ❤

Not being home has become way too regular for him. Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much. The penthouse is quiet once again when he arrives. There was no delay in flights or traffic jams, it is simply that his plane landed late. And he hates it. He hates how often he has to leave these days.

You knew of his late arrival and therefore Jungkook is greeted with a sticky note on the coat hanger. He picks it up, reading it as he slips out of his coat.

“Welcome home Bunny! Check fridge :D”

Jungkook smiles and slips the note into the front pocket of his suit. He discards the suitcase by the stairs like always on his way to the fridge. He opens it. His eyes instantly drift to the container of fried rice and the array of side dishes. He takes them out, eyes drifting to the second sticky note on one of the containers. He picks it up and reads it.

“Yaay you found me :D…”

Jungkook smiles, scrunching his nose as he continues reading.

“...you can warm up the rice if you want to and add some cheese on top. I put all my love into it ♡…”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter. He hugs the sticky note to his chest and closes his eyes. One little squeeze and then he continues.

“...sorry I couldn’t be there. Today drained me :(...”

“Oh no, I’m sorry”, Jungkook whispers and pouts.

“...I hope you are home safe. I adore you, my love ♡”

He smiles again, “I adore you too, my love.”

He gives the sticky note a kiss and places it on the counter for later safe storing. He keeps a box with all your memories and little letters in his home office. Actually, it is three boxes and he is in the midst of filling up the fourth one. Jungkook likes to keep everything. Truly everything concerning your relationship. Your sweet notes will find their warm home with all the other precious memorabilia tomorrow morning once he slept his jetlag off.

He puts the container of rice into the microwave and uses the time to carry his luggage upstairs. He’ll do the laundry tomorrow. He slips out of his suit and changes into a simple t-shirt and sweats combo, then hurries downstairs again. The food is warmed up and ready, filling his nose with a mouth-watering scent. He takes the container and the side dishes and eats them standing by the kitchen island and with his eyes zoned out on the city lights.

It’s a good time. Jungkook missed your food so much. It is once again important to mention that he doesn’t expect you to cook and that you do so because you want to. If you suddenly decide to stop cooking, Jungkook would be sad because he loves your food the most, but he wouldn’t be angry. You do this voluntarily and Jungkook loves every single dish you make. Tonight’s dish tastes especially good. You grilled chicken breast and some vegetables and you even added canned tuna to the rice, topping everything off with a savoury-spicy sauce. Jungkook loves it so much.

He had to be without you for twenty days. It was hell again. Of course it was because he wasn’t with you. He missed everything about you and that also included your food. It tastes so good. So homemade, so full of love and care. Jungkook enjoys every bite as if it was his first, humming and moaning to himself as he enjoys the good food.

Once done and happily sated, Jungkook washes the dishes and puts them back into their shelves. He wipes the part of the kitchen island counter he ate on and then makes his way to the upstairs bathroom to wash up. Afterwards and without any clothes on, he finally walks to the bedroom.

He is tired and more than anything, he misses you.

He sadly walks by the little sticky note you left on the bedroom door because he didn’t have the lights on. He will find it tomorrow and read it with sparkly eyes. It says something along the line that behind this door his snuggles are waiting. You are such a cheesy romantic these days. Jungkook loves it so much.

The blinds are closed completely. Like always, Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Like always, he only uses his phone flashlight for vision and like always, he uses his phone screen again as he tiptoes to the bed. He turns on his purposefully-weak night light and uses it to apply lip balm and drink some water. Then he slips under the cover, keeping the nightlight on for a little longer. You are turned to him, sleeping halfway on your stomach and with your cheek squished.

Jungkook feels his heart swell and his stomach tingle. He reaches out and moves some of your hair out of your face. He brushes the back of his fingers down your temple and cheek, holding your hand afterwards. His thumb is drawing hearts on your skin.

“I missed you”, he whispers and moves closer to kiss your cheek, your temple and lastly your eyelid as gently as possible.

He gives the shell of your ear a soft kiss as well and caresses the back of your head before putting some distance between you and him.

He turns off the nightlight and holds your hand again. He didn’t even have to look for it. He knew exactly where he would find it.

He closes his eyes. He is so exhausted from travelling and finally being with you again is doing the rest to him. He is home again. And home means sleep. Jungkook listens to your breathing and finds healing in the sound of it.

Seconds later, he has joined you in dreamland, smiling faintly because nothing beats sleeping next to you.

Jungkook opens his eyes to darkness. He was wrong. There is one thing which can beat sleeping next to you. Waking up with you in his arms.

You are his little spoon, giving him warmth. He must have reached for you in his sleep or maybe you cuddled into him in your sleep. Whatever the case, Jungkook slept for nine hours and is waking up with you in his arms. Your scent is the only thing he takes in, he can feel your back sink and rise as you breathe, there is a little wet spot on his arm where you are drooling on him.

Jungkook smiles and pulls you closer. You would hate it, but you are so cute right now. You would probably wrestle him for it – gently of course and with love – if you read his thoughts right now, but Jungkook thinks you are cute as you drool on his arm.

His blanket slipped halfway off his body so that only the back side of his body was covered, while his front was pressed against your body. Your blanket served as a barrier and Jungkook doesn’t like that. He shimmies back just enough so that he can open the blanket and slip under. So now he has two blankets covering him and your body against his’.

He feels his breath hitch. You aren’t wearing clothes either. Your body is so warmed up from sleep, your skin is so soft. Jungkook feels his emotions overwhelm him. He was ready for everything but not to cuddle you naked on the first morning together again. He pulls you into his chest and exhales shakily. Your legs tangle as best as possible. Your butt applies pressure on his crotch. Jungkook feels whole again. This kind of emotion only you can give him. This kind of connection and comfort.

This work trip didn’t leave him as anxious as previous ones did. You visited him for three days in the middle of it, which made it easier to bear, but it was still not easy. Jungkook still had to go seventeen days without you and the last week of the trip was hell. The hours were inhumanely long, the nights were lonely and the yearning unbearable. So Jungkook finds healing in holding you as your bodies share the most intimate of states.

He stays like this for quite a while. Holding you. Feeling you. Breathing you. And experiencing you. This is what heaven is. This is it. This is the only thing which will make everything better again. Jungkook will fight through all the hellish work trips in the world if at the end of them, your hug awaits.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes his muscles. He falls asleep again like this. The comfort of cuddling you naked dragged him right down into sweet dreams. He sleeps for another hour, then he wakes again. You are still sleeping, holding his hand by now. Your position hasn’t changed, but the state of one certain body part has.

He got a boner.

Jungkook didn’t plan on getting hard. His plan was to cuddle and snuggle you until late into the morning and then when you wake up, kiss you for hours with the sweet thought that maybe passionate sex will follow.

He wasn’t planning on getting hard already, but it seems that his body has different plans for him. It’s not even one of his normal boners. The kind he always gets in the morning because he is a healthy man with healthy blood circulation.

This hard on aches and he knows for a fact that it won’t go away after a few minutes. It is here to stay and it is here to torture him.

It is currently squished between his body and your butt. The pressure, which once gave him comfort, is torturing him. You are so soft and warm that it gets difficult not to move.

He tries to check if maybe you are awake by giving your hand a little shake. You pull his hand closer, but stay unmoving otherwise. You are still asleep.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, feeling dizzy. He has two options. Ignore the boner and suffer or attempt to find relief by rubbing himself against you.

He knows that you wouldn’t mind if he did. You and he know that somno is allowed and appreciated, so Jungkook is aware that he has consent to get off with your sleeping body. He still hesitates. He always does because he feels like such a dirty man whenever he does it. He is embarrassed about getting so needy that he can’t even control himself anymore. And he also feels as if he is soiling your body. You are so precious to him, so to secretly find relief with you always leaves him feeling a little guilty.

You would call him a stupid noodle if you knew his thoughts.

Jungkook feels needy tingles go through his legs. The reminder of his beloved nickname made him even hornier. He loves being your stupid noodle and he always gets giddy when you call him this way.

He wiggles his hips. Slowly. Just a little. His pretty cockhead grinds against your butt up and down.

He squeezes your hand, muffling his shaky sigh in the back of your head. This felt so good. He wants to experience it again.

He wiggles his hips. His cock moves. Up and down. The sensation is electric. Your skin is so soft. Your warmth seeps so deep into his cock. He wants more.

He moves his hips and does it a second time right afterwards. His legs feel so, so warm as the pleasure emits from his cock.

“Oh god”, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He is propped up on his elbow this way, using the new support to roll his hips into you. Your scent fills his nose as he inhales deeply in reaction to the grinds. Mellifluous and warm from sleep. You only smell like this when you spent hours cozy and comfy under the covers. You get this addicting sweetness to you. He always feels droopy from it.

Jungkook wets your skin because it makes him so, so needy to have it fill his senses. It makes grinding so much easier and for his needy hips to chase the short relief with eagerness.

He wants to fucking scream, this feels so good. Grinding hasn’t felt that good in ages. Jungkook knows it’s because he hadn’t been home for such a long time. The thought that he wasn’t, makes him want you even more.

Jungkook reaches between your bodies and grabs his own cock. He bends it so he can push it between your thighs. The friction is intense, bordering painful. It would be so much easier if he used lube. He can’t reach it right now. You are in the middle of the bed and if he moved too much, he’d wake you.

Jungkook bites down on his lower lip and pushes harder. It burns. He swallows the pain and pushes one last time. Your thighs welcome his cock, letting him sink between them. They hug and squeeze, feeling oh so hot around him.

“Mommy”, Jungkook moans and pulls his hips back. His cock slides from between your thighs. He pushes it back inside, leaving trails of wetness. It begins covering more and more of your skin, making the fucking easier.

Jungkook pulls back just to push inside. He does it over and over again, biting his lower lip so hard that it starts to hurt. If he wouldn't muffle himself, he’d wake you up with incessant moaning. Your thighs are so soft. The position they are in as you slumber, makes them press together naturally and therefore get so, so tight to fuck.

No wonder it hurt at first until he got embarrassingly needy. He gets wet so easily. The friction isn’t uncomfortable anymore. It is still there, but it feels amazing. It makes sure to drag and move his sensitive skin right over the spots which are filled with the most nerve endings and Jungkook can’t stop.

He fucked himself needy. There is no escape anymore. He has to continue. His boner wouldn’t ever go down otherwise.

“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he whimpers and drags his parted lips over your neck in what try to be kisses. He is so, so drooly in his worshiping attempt, but he can’t help himself. Your thighs make him feel so, so, so woozy.

He kisses, licks and sucks your neck with closed eyes and his leaky cock twitching between your thighs. Small moans escape him. He has no control over them. He is too far gone. Too lost in how good you feel.

Oh how lost he is. So, so lost that he doesn’t even realise he began slipping up until he suddenly feels something else grind against his cock as well. Your pussy. Soft. Your groomed pubes bring such a new sensation to the fuck.

“Mommy please”, it makes Jungkook beg instantly. He closes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as his hips pick up a needy pace.

This is making him desperate. He is so close to the warmest and softest spot of your body. He is right there. At his home. And he can’t slip inside because the current position would end up hurting for you. You are too tight to slip in. Jungkook is left fucking his needy cock between your thighs and make do with what little contact he has to your pussy.

“Mommy please wake up”, he begs and sucks on your earlobe. He mewls and keens, finding immense relief in the sensation. His cock twitches, his body shivers, “oh god”, he croaks. His lips are pressed to your ear as he begs, “please Mommy, please.”

You shift in his arms, rolling closer into his chest. Your head moves. Jungkook’s heart skips beats. His hips stutter in excitement.

“Bunny?”

“Hey Mommy, hey”, he gets out and mewls, “oh god, you’re awake.”

“What’s happening?” your voice is heavy in sleep. You sound so out of it still.

“I’m sorry. Mommy, I’m sorry. I got hard”, he confesses and whimpers as he fucks his cock between your thighs in example.

You are barely awake. You still feel disoriented from sleep, so the sensation of Jungkook fucking his cock between your thighs is hidden behind a droopy veil.

“Please can I slip it in?” Jungkook begs and pulls you closer with his hand dimpling your side.

“Mhm Bunny, you’re doing things”, you lull and laugh sleepily, “you stupid noodle.”

Jungkook trembles. Tears shoot to his eyes. He whimpers in overwhelming emotion.

“Please Mommy, please I’m begging you. Oh god, I wanna be inside so bad. Oh god”, he babbles in high pitched pleas, shaking behind you as his twitchy cock leaks all over your skin.

His begs are muffled as well. You are so nicely gone in sleep still. You are very awake between your legs however. Jungkook’s needy humping brought all the attention right between them and woke you up. So while the rest of your body was still useless in sleepiness, you feel achingly awake on the spots where his cock grinds against you.

“Please, I’ll be careful. Please, I’m begging you”, Jungkook pleads, struggling with his thrusts as his legs tremble, “oh god, I don’t know what to do. It hurts so much”, he gets out and sobs into your neck, “Mommy please make it stop, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so needy”, you chuckle lazily, giving his hand a little squeeze. You shift your hips and lift your leg.

“No, please more”, Jungkook begs and tries to push your leg down again.

“Bunny, I’m trying to give you access. What are you doing?” you laugh, shaking him off.

“Oh. Oh god, I’m so stupid”, he babbles.

“No, you’re not. Slip in, Bunny.”

“Mommy”, he whimpers and follows your order instantly. He pushes inside. The breach steals your breath away. Insane warmth fills your pussy instantly. Holy fuck, you missed him so much.

You reach behind yourself, burying your hand in his hair. You close your eyes because being filled with him feels too overwhelming not to.

“Mommy”, he whimpers, letting his head drop against the side of your face, “I love you”, he squeaks and bottoms out. He shakes and trembles, soiling your cheek with a sloppy attempt at a kiss as his arms pull you tighter against him.

“I love you too, Bunny.”

“Oh god, ahmhm.”

He chases you instantly. The sensation is too addicting not to. He whimpers and mewls as he does, leaving kiss marks all over your face. You have your head turned to him so you are getting kissed everywhere. Your cheek, your nose, your eyelid and forehead. Down your temple until he finally lingers on your lips for longer.

You receive them with closed eyes and a droopy smile. He feels so good. He feels so good filling you up, he feels so good holding you and he feels so good kissing your face. This is the best way to wake up. Nothing will ever top this.

You drop your leg again because you got tired. The sensation intensifies. You moan feeling your senses blur. He is inside you. It gets so intensely obvious now that you are so tight.

“Mommy”, he whimpers into the kiss, feeling his legs shake, “tight, ah.”

“I know. Feels so good”, you whisper with a dizzy head. You can feel him shift and move inside you. His cock is so soft and covered in your wet pleasure. It grinds against your butt and parts of your thighs each time he moves, leaving trails of wetness behind. You know that he us getting fucked twice. By your pussy and your thighs.

“It’s so intense”, he gets out and moans desperately.

“I know, you’re getting fucked so good. Mhm?”

“So good”, he whimpers, “oh god, Mommy.”

“My Bunny”, you moan and pull him back into a kiss as you finally show him the rhythm you want. He is a little sloppy at first until you calm him down with rubs to his neck and your tongue guiding his’.

And while his lips calm down against yours, his hips become needier. He pushes them against you as tightly as possible, keeping his cock so, so deep inside one might wonder if he tries to bury his balls in you as well. He probably would if he could.

Oh, he wants to fucking melt with you. He is so deep inside and yet he still aches. Not even your pussy is giving him the relief he needs. He keeps pressing against you, chasing the tight hug of your soft warmth with small circles of his hips.

You moan into the kiss, twisting his hair gently. Jungkook whimpers because he knows what this means. He is hitting the right spot. Or at least he is getting there.

He feels that you are different than on days where you dedicate a lot of time to foreplay. He knows that you haven’t been paid attention to for enough time that your pussy could properly shift and change to take cock. But he is getting there. Your moans and needy twisting of his hair is letting him know.

He slides his right hand down your stomach, lingering on the lowest part for a moment. He presses down until he feels how his cock shifts inside.

The kiss breaks, “Bunny”, you breathe and arch your back so you could press yourself closer. He is squeezing the sensitive parts right against his cock. The small circles of his hips give them a constant massage. It feels so good.

“Is it good? Am I careful enough?” he asks in a trembling voice.

“Yeah, ah”, you let out a little moan and pull him down against your lips.

Jungkook feels his cock throb. Not only on his cock but also against his hand. He doesn’t know how to handle the increasing pleasure running through his veins and so he slides his hand from your stomach to rub your clit instead. He picks up some of the juices coating his cock and uses them to massage circles into your sensitive spot.

“Bunny", you break the kiss again to gasp and moan. You throb under his fingers, convulse around his cock. The spots he hits inside gain in sensitivity. You are burning up.

“Am I doing good, Mommy?” he begs for your praise. Please. It is everything he needs.

“So good”, you get out and push back against him, “good Bunny, holy fuck ah…”

“Mommy", he sobs softly and feels his hips falter, “oh god, I’m close.”

“Suddenly?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He stops his thrusts in an attempt to calm down the approaching high, but he is too far gone. His thoughts are pushing him over the edge. You praised him. This is everything he needed.

“Ah! Oh god, sorry”, he moans and trembles, “no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.”

You chuckle fondly, running your fingers through his hair. He is so adorable. Your sweet Bunny so, so excited from being praised that it’s throwing him over the edge.

“I’m so sorry oh god it feels so goood.”

“There we go, let it all out Bunny. That’s it”, you talk him through it, playing with his hair as you do. You can’t even be mad at him for stopping. Not when he is so adorable.

Jungkook finishes after five twitchy strokes, dropping on top of you as his face hides away in your neck. His cock is buried inside, pulsating weakly as he recovers.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, this was so bad of me. I’m sorry”, he gets out between quick pants.

“You’re right. You’re such a bad Bunny”, you lull, grinning to yourself.

“I’m sorry, Mommy”, he whimpers, shaking in a little sob, “oh god, I’m a bad Bunny. So, so bad. Mommy, you can punish me.”

“No Bunny. No punishments. I want you to say sorry.”

“Oh god”, he croaks.

You smile.

He understood. Good.

“Can you do that for me, Bunny? Can you say sorry?”

“Yes, Mommy. I can. Oh, I can”, he says and slips out of you.

He rolls you onto your back and disappears under the blanket. Seconds later you feel his hot mouth on your pussy and his long fingers holding your waist.

“Mhhm fuck”, you purr, arching your back languidly as his hot tongue laps at your pussy. The sensation is different from his fingers. Wetter, hotter and softer. You fucking love every second of it.

He mewls under the blanket, feeling so dizzy. His cum keeps seeping out of you. No matter how hard he tries to clean you, he just can’t finish it. You keep leaking more and more.

“Mommy, I came so much”, he lets you know and swirls his tongue down your folds, lapping at your entrance. He needs to clean you. He needs to say sorry. He needs to be a good boy. He licks your creamed entrance, trying so hard to get it clean.

“You did”, you sigh your words, feeling lightheaded, “keep going until I’m clean.”

Jungkook hums in obedience and slurps. He licks, laps, slurps and sucks, needing you to be clean so fucking bad. He needs to show you that he is still good. That he is your best Bunny and not a naughty Bunny. This is all he needs and all he craves. He wants you to know that what he did was a mistake. And that he regrets it deeply.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, you let out and writhe happily. His tongue is filling you as far as he can reach, while his nose is buried between your folds. He has the perfect nose. It fits so perfectly in your pussy to grind on your clit whenever he tongue fucks you.

“Good Bunny, you’re so…good…”

Jungkook mewls at the praise, dimpling your waist as his needy fingers close tighter around you. Your lovely taste begins seeping more and more through the tangy taste of his own cum. He is doing such a good job at cleaning you, speeding up his tongue because he is so excited for your taste.

It makes the wettest sound, filling the air with it. It motivates him to perform even better. To press himself closer and fill your pussy. His nose is covered in your juices, stimulating your clit. He feels her throb on the tip of his nose as your scent surrounds him. You smell so warm after penetration. He can’t get enough, showing his desperation by curling his tongue inside you.

Your legs tremble and slip over his arms. Propped up on the mattress and continuing to shake, they lift the blanket just enough that fresh air gets to him. It was so perfectly stuffy and warm before, but Jungkook doesn’t want to complain because he is trapped under your legs and that feels so good.

“You’re so fucking good”, you get out breathily and run your fingers through his hair. You do it with both hands, giving him loving caresses without ever pulling at his hair. The sensation brings trembles to Jungkook’s lips. The tingles don’t stop running down his spine.

He breaks away because he genuinely can’t breathe. His nose was blocked by your pussy and his mouth gagged by it. He didn’t want to break away but he had to. He pants, recovering by sloppily kissing the inside of your thighs. He holds them in his hands for it, leaving spots of sensitivity because he sucks way too hard. You let him because it feels so good.

“I belong to you”, he gets out, “oh god, I’m yours. Yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah, mine”, you sigh, “my Bunny.”

“Yours. You own me”, he croaks and connects his mouth with your pussy. He moans, sucking your clit between his lips to make out with it needily.

His drool runs down your folds and leaves you so messy for later. He can’t help it, you taste mouth-wateringly good. All cleaned of his cum and so intensely you. Jungkook swears he gets dizzy because of it. He missed your taste so much. So, so much.

“Fuck Bunny”, your voice trembles, just as your legs do, “my good Bunny, fuck you’re so good. Holy fuck”, you whispered at first but end up babbling the words as his quick tongue fucks your clit sensitive.

Jungkook swears he will actually scream because of your praise. He loves it on normal days, but something about it today affects him like nothing else. He feels delirious from it, high and totally out of it. Perhaps it is because he had to be with it for seventeen days. Perhaps he is so starved for it, because his situation starved him.

He slides his right hand from your waist and shifts a little so he could run his fingers down your folds. Your juices and his drool cover them instantly. He slides his left arm over your tummy, squeezes your side and pushes his fingers inside. Three at a time because you feel so ready for it.

“Holy fuck. Ah!”

You arch your back and pull his hair.

“Jungkook.”

His name fell from your lips. Jungkook presses himself closer and curls his fingers needily. He is doing the best job. You only moan his name when he’s got you high on pleasure.

Your right leg drops in the sheets because you didn’t have support anymore. You prop it again clumsily and roll your hips into him.

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh god”, you chant, gasping for air repeatedly.

Jungkook mewls and moans against your pussy. His mouth is pressed to your clit, his tongue is lapping at her in upwards motions. He moans each time he drags it down again and pulls another shake from your legs.

Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, leaking constantly. Your favourite spot is so swollen under his fingertips. He would have to be a total idiot not to know where to touch because it is so fucking obvious to him. And oh how he touches you, how he makes sure that you get fucked so good now that his cock failed to do so.

“Fuck Bunny”, your voice is slightly pitched, your fingers twist bundles of his hair, “I’m…close…mh ah.”

Jungkook shakes in excitement. His instinct is to speed up, to do something different so you know how talented he is. But he knows better. You don’t want him to change anything, you want him to continue doing what he is doing right now. So he controls himself. He brings in your waist a little from his desperate grip and he moans against your pussy as his drooly mouth makes love to her. He curls his fingers where you need it most and he keeps pressing down on it as he rubs circles on it.

You arch your back, twisting his hair because it is all that helps. You missed him so much. You missed his touch, his moans, his mouth on you. You are just as sensitive as him, closing your thighs around his head as the fire in your body gets too much.

“You’re making me cum”, you moan and drop in the sheets with a loud groan of his name. He drags his tongue up and breaks you. Your entire body is overtaken by the fire instantly, it feels most intense in your pussy. “ah Bunny, ah, aha, aah, oh god Bunny…”

Jungkook licks you through it, spilling tears of happiness because he is making you feel good and because he really missed feeling your orgasm on his tongue. You always throb and pulsate so much and it’s the best feeling ever. You’re squeezing his fingers so much, tightening in the most perfect ways. Jungkook fingers and licks and sucks you through it, moaning as if he was the one orgasming.

“Woah damn, wait”, you get out, tugging him away after the good turns bad because of overstimulation, “too much. Sensitive. Woah”, you add and twitch repeatedly.

“Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and kisses paths of admiration up your stomach. He pulls his fingers free, using them to hold you instead. To feel you up and remind his brain how it is to cradle you.

“Thank you so much”, he breathes, covering every inch of your stomach with kisses.

You enjoy it with closed eyes and your lungs working so hard to get air inside. Oh you feel so dizzy. This is going to take a while.

Jungkook reappears from under the blanket, worshiping your chest now that every inch of your stomach has been adored. He cradles your breasts in his hands, kissing every inch of them with love and shaky breaths.

“You’re such a good Bunny”, you whisper, feeling his lips tremble against your nipple. He takes it inside and sucks on it, mewling your name because you make him feel so good. He breaks away with yet another mewl of your name, kissing paths up to your neck.

His crotch meets your own, sharing the warm, sticky connection of good orgasms. He is soft, which lets you know that it will take a while for him as well. His tummy and chest are on top of yours, his elbows dimple the pillow beside your head. He hides away in the crook of your neck and begins kissing your sensitive skin.

“I missed you so much”, he whispers and hugs you.

Your head is cradled between his own head and the tensing muscles of his upper arm. His warm scent is so strong this way, his skin feels like heaven. You roll your head to the side so you could rub your nose against his head, and close your arms around him.

“I missed you too”, you say and kiss his cheek, “my best Bunny, this was the loveliest way to wake up.”

“Yeah”, he sighs, “it was so good. Mommy, can you praise me again?”

You smile, hugging him closer, “my best Bunny, you’re such a good boy.”

“Did I do a good job?”

“Yes Bunnybaby, you did the best job.”

Jungkook giggles, melting into you as he puts his weight on you. He wiggles happily, making you smile.

“You’re cute.”

“I love praise so much.”

“I know Bunny and you deserve it”, you say, listening to his happy giggles.

“I’m so happy to be home again”, he says and snuggles closer, “my Mommy. I missed you so much.”

“Mhm yeah”, you agree and ruffle his hair, “you’re not leaving again. You’ll stay in my arms today.”

He giggles, “this is the best day ever.”

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kooksberrie · 9 months

Text

— pretty when you cry | jjk

— summary: you will never get tire of being the reason for jungkook's sweet whimpers, the tears he shed because of the pleasure and how ruined he looked every time you made him cum hard.

jungkook is just so pretty, and even more so when he moans just for you.

click here to read (ao3)

— genre: smut, pwp

— pairing: (sub) jungkook x (dom) f reader

— word count: 5,3k

— warnings: praise kink, a little bit of degrading kink, vibrator, rimming, anal fingering, good boy jungkook, dacryphilia, subspace, orgasm denial, spanking, jungkook speaks in third person, noona kink

« "How does that feel, baby?" you spoke with a really soft tone, capturing his gaze.

"S-So-" he whimpered before he could finish the sentence. "So good, noona... Thank you." His eyelids drooped again.

You could swear to be the luckiest woman in the world right now. Jungkook was lying on the bed, completely naked, with a vibrator on stimulating him, and he was enjoying it like nothing else in the damn world. You simply couldn't describe how much Jungkook's submission makes you feel. It's glorious, and even more considering that he enjoys it as much as you do. »

#sub jungkook #bottom!jungkook #bottom jungkook #sub!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #dom!reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #sub!idol #sub!bts #bottom!bts

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fairyofjaeyun · 10 months

Note

Can you do more of the nsfw link please

👉👈🥺🥺

your wish is my command 🫡

pegging felix bent over the bed

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

jake humping his pillow while being in a chasity cage

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

letting soobin fuck your thighs because he’s been a good boy

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

pegging yeonjun while his hands are tied

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

edging san and kissing his pretty waist

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

making soobin punish himself while you’re out by plugging his ass and slapping his own cock

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

jay showing off his anal creampie after you breed him

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

tying up and toying with jungkook

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

teasing heeseung while he’s locked up in your dungeon

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

huening kai sucking and deep throating your strapon

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

controlling jungwon’s vibrator and edging him

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

jungkook cumming from fucking your thighs

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#sub!idol #sub!kpop #dom!reader #dom!fem!reader #sub!ateez #sub!bts #sub!enhypen #sub!txt #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #kpop hard hours

1K notes · View notes

dambaepuff · 2 months

Text

LIKE OR LIKE LIKE

☆Pairing: Roomate!Jeongguk x GN!Reader

☆Genre: Non!Idol AU, light angst, fluff, smut, one-shot

☆Warnings: swear words, Sub!JK, Dom!Reader, making out, hand job, fingering (m receiving)

☆Word count: 3k

☆Summary: After Jeongguk’s Valentines date bailed on him, he came home defeated and upset. In your attempt to comfort him things get heated.

☆A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this valentines special!! This is my first time writing smut sooo I’m not sure how great it turned out. Once again, I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

You sat down onto your couch with a huff, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Almost every single channel had a a romance movie playing, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You turned on a streaming service, your irritation only growing when the front page recommended romance shows and movies. Jeongguk, your roommate and crush of three years was out on a date with some girl currently. You were never one to really care about Valentine’s Day, but knowing someone else was sneaking their way into his heart whilst you spent the evening home alone made you despise the holiday’s existence. Typing the title of a movie you’d been meaning to watch for ages now into the search bar, you turned it on and let yourself relaxed into the couch cushions. A couple of minutes in, you heard the door of your apartment unlock.

Craning your neck towards the sound you watched as Jeongguk walked in, the bouquet you had helped him pick out earlier that day loosely gripped in his hand. He sluggishly took off his shoes and jacked, dropping the assortment of flowers onto your kitchen counter. “How’d the date go?” You asked, looking up at him from your seat. “It didn’t go.” He answered in a flat tone. “What?” You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his cryptic answer. “She didn’t show up. Only sent a text like half an hour after we were supposed to meet saying she forgot and made other plans.” He explained as he sat down next to you, looking defeated and tired. A deep frown formed on your lips, feeling sympathetic towards your roommate. You put a hand onto his shoulder, hoping to bring him some form of comfort. “Should we watch cheesy movies and order takeout? We can be alone and date-less together then.” You suggested, trying to cheer him up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sniffled lightly and fully let himself lean back into the couch. Now that his face was closer to yours you realized his eyes were glossy and red, his nose tinted a light pink as if he had been continuously wiping it. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?” You asked, your eyebrows being pulled together by worry. “Well, it’s not really like I wanted to go on that date with her so badly it’s just that,” he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “-it made me feel so… so shit. You know? Like I,” He pursed his lips together, trying his hardest to not let tears escape his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess, it’s affecting my self esteem? I felt like,” He couldn’t keep his tears anymore. The dams broke, tear droplets freely falling off his long lashes now. “I felt like…” A quiet sob stopped him from finishing his sentence. Your hands came up to grab his, running your thumbs over his knuckles in hopes of calming him down. “I felt like a fucking loser!” He finally managed to get out, your heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Hatred filled his dark irises, but not towards his date who bailed, but rather at himself. You pulled him into an embrace, unable to muster up words to console him. He gladly leaned in, gripping your shirt and crying into your chest. You let his warm tears soak through the cloth, not caring about anything other than giving him the comfort he needed so desperately. One of your hands softly stroked through his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. After giving him a moment to cry his heart out you started to quietly mumble reassurances into his ear. “Jeongguk you’re so handsome and kind, maybe it’s for the best she showed her true colors so early on. You deserve so much better. Someone who can give you the respect and love you deserve, someone who will be there for you when no one else is.” You placed a fleeting peck onto the crown of his head, causing him to snuggle further into your chest. The two of you cuddled till he calmed down, letting comfortable silence consume you.

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered against you, the sound coming out muffled. “Hm, about what?” You asked, your hand that had stilled resuming the mindless movement on his back. “Finding someone who’s right for me is so hard,” he said, lifting his head up to look at you. “especially when they’re right in front of me.” He finished his sentence. “Right in front of you?” You tilted your head in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. He tentatively leaned up closer to you, stopping a couple of centimeters away from your face. “Can I do something?” He asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of your face. You only gave a small nod, your heart rate beginning to pick up. His gaze dropped down to your lips, slowly he leaned in closer again, placing his soft lips onto yours. It only lasted a short moment, the kiss being a mere peck, but it made a million butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest, the circulation making your skin heat up.

“Hm, maybe try it again. For good measure.” You whispered feeling bold. The corner of his lip quirked up, he hummed in agreement and closed the gap between you again. This time the kiss lasted longer, his hand snuck up to cup the side of your face as he moved his lips against yours. He began to be more sloppy, opening his mouth more against yours and letting your saliva mix. You gladly let it happen, trying to slip your tongue past his lips. He got the memo and let it slide in, quietly moaning as his tongue pushed against yours. He disconnected your lips to get some air, climbing onto you and straddling your lap. Your hands instinctively went to hold his hips making him put his arms around your neck and resume making out with you. Groaning against his lips the kisses became more messy, teeth and tongues clashing in desperation. He ground his hips down onto yours, searching for friction to aid his hardening cock.

You started trailing kisses down the side of his face, stopping at his jaw to lightly nibble at the soft flesh. He huffed and tangled his fingers into yours hair, giving it a light tug. You continued to place messy kisses down his neck, bitting and sucking at his skin. In response he moaned, more loudly this time. Taking it as a sign to keep going you carried on with bruising his neck. His hips started to speed up, the grinding turning into humping. One of your hands snaked to his lower stomach, slipping it under his shirt and playing with the waistband of his pants. You slid your thumb inside it, gently stroking the flesh right above his cock. He softly whined into your ear, gripping your wrist to try guiding your hand where he needed it most. “Eager now, are we?” You teased and switched your kisses to pecks. “Please, I want you to touch me.” He whispered, trying to hump up against your hand. Deciding to be merciful, you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled out his erect dick. He moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, biting down onto his lip in anticipation. You pulled away from his neck to get a good look at face. Whilst maintaining eye contact you let go of his cock, bringing your hand up you spat into your palm. He only watched you with hooded eyes, shivering at what was to come. Slowly you lathered up his dick, leisurely starting to twist your wrist around it. He lightly thrusted up into your hand, having to keep himself restrained from snapping his hips up like an animal in heat, but to no avail, he couldn’t help himself.

You barely even had to move your hand, he did most of the work by fucking up into it like a hormonal teenager who had never felt intimacy before. Your knuckles would occasionally skim against his lower stomach, making him shudder from the ticklish feeling on his sensitive skin. He whined out your name, his voice cracking as he pathetically rutted up into your fist. In the meantime, your other hand had gotten busy with kneading the flesh of his ass. You had been eyeing the supple flesh since you first met the man, always secretly wondering what kind of noises he’d make as your fingers filled him up to the rim. Gathering up the courage, you decided to ask him if you could finger his ass. “Jeongguk,” You quietly said, trying to get his attention. “Yes?” He replied breathily, slowing his thrusts down. “Can I finger you?” You asked looking up at him. “Fuck.” He felt his balls tense up as his empty hole clenched, the mere question almost making him cum. “Yes. Fuck, please do.” He huskily replied, his hips coming to a stop. “Take your pants off pretty boy.” You instructed as you tapped his hip, signaling for him to get off of you. He obediently came off and started taking off his pants together with his boxers. You got up from the couch and started walking to your room. “I need to go fetch some lube real quick. You can lose the shirt too.” You cheekily winked at him and looked him up and down. The tips of his ears reddened and he nodded dumbly at you.

Pulling your nightstand drawer open, you dug around the cluster or objects in search for the lubricant. Once you found it you quickly made your way back to the living room. On the couch laid Jeongguk in all his glory. Sprawled out with his legs wide open for you, completely naked and ready for you to destroy him. You knelt down between his legs pecking his knee and starting to litter kisses down towards his inner thigh. He shuddered, the chilly air of the living room and the feeling of your lips against his skin too much for him to bare. He lightly arched his back, his nipples hardening from the cold. You massaged his outer thigh as you popped the lid of the lube open with your thumb. “You ready?” You asked to which he hummed in reply. Raising an eyebrow at him you awaited a verbal answer, which he quickly scrambled to give. “Y-yes!” He stammered out. “Good.” You simply replied and started to apply the clear substance onto two of your fingers. “Relax, I can’t do anything if you’re tense.“ You said as you leaned down to give him a tender kiss. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his muscles with an exhale.

Your fingers lightly grazed his rim, testing the waters of his sensitivity. “S’cold.” He mumbled against your lips. “I know baby.” You replied an continued kissing him. Softly you pushed your middle finger against his hole, slowly easing in the tip of your finger. Seeing no signs of discomfort you continued pushing in till you hit the base of your knuckles. He sighed into your mouth, his hand coming up to rest on your bicep. “It it okay? Can I move it?” You questioned. “Mhm! S’okay.” He drowsily replied. You began to move your finger slowly, pumping it in and out of him. Jeongguk squirmed underneath you, letting out soft pants and gasps at the new sensation. Wiggling your finger around inside him, you deemed him ready enough to add another digit. “I’ll add another, okay?” You said as you slid your hand down his chest and towards his stomach. “Yes!” He replied breathlessly. Sliding the finger that was already inside of him almost all the way out, you probed at his entrance gently with the one next to it. They both went in with relative easy, making Jeongguk’s breathing become even more shallow once your knuckles reached the skin of his ass. You started pumping again, the lubricant making squelching noises. Once you were sure he was used to your fingers, you moved the hand which was resting on his stomach to take a hold of his neglected cock. The moan he let out the moment you touched his dick was like music to your ears, making you feel your own arousal grow.

You laid down onto the couch so your head was between his legs now. Nosing at his inner thigh you started to kiss and bite the skin. You trailed the kisses further down, stopping right in front of his cock. You looked up at him, admiring how his abdominal muscles would twitch when you pressed down especially deep inside of him. His head was thrown back, his Adams’s apple bobbing as he desperately tried to swallow down the excess spit forming in his mouth from his continuous moaning. You watched his face closely as you stopped jerking him off, waiting for him to look down at you so he can see you take his cock into your mouth. Just as you expected, he rolled his head, letting it drop forward as he stared down at you. “Why’d you sto-ah!” His question was cut off by his own moan the moment you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He threw his head back again, his hips lifting off of the couch against his will. You wrapped your lips against his tip, lightly sucking whilst your hand jerked him off, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock and lightly bobbing your head. Purposely you drooled onto his cock, watching as the saliva slid down to his balls. With one last lick to his tip, you made your way downwards and began to lick and suck at his balls. He kept on bucking up into you, chasing his high with fervor. “Ah! I think I’m gonna- I think I’m gonna…” He panted, trying to let you know about his approaching orgasm through his whines of pleasure.

You took his cock back into your mouth, moving your head up and down the length in the same rhythm as the fingers which you were still pumping inside of him. With one last drawn out moan his hips spasmed and he came into your throat. The pleasure of his orgasm jolted through his entire body, leaving him shaking and whining at the overwhelming sensation. He lightly pushed you away when he came down from his high, his form going limp underneath you. You swallowed down every drop of cum he had to offer, pulling away from his cock with a wet pop. You sat up onto your knees, looking down at him you admired your work, enjoying seeing him become such a mess for you. You quickly fetched a towel to clean him up and brought him a glass of water which he eagerly gulped down. The moment you laid down next to him, he climbed onto you and snuggled into your chest. “I didn’t do anything for you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled looking up at you. “Nonsense, I’m just happy I could help fix your mood.” You responded and soon the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“You ever smoked cigarettes after having sex?” You ask out of the blue. Jeongguk looks up at you in confusion, letting out a short giggle. “What? Like the band?” He asks, his doe eyes staring up at you. “Yeah, like the band.” You softly smile down at him, moving his bangs away from his forehead. “You wanna go have a cigarette and listen to them?” Your smile spread wider as you proposed the idea. “That sounds kind of nice actually.” He replied and lifted himself off of your chest to sit up. You helped him get dressed and grabbed your cigarettes and both of your jackets before making your way out onto the balcony with him. You put Cigarettes After Sex on shuffle and pull out a cigarette for each of you. Placing one of them into Jeongguk’s mouth you took a lighter out of your pocket. Your thumb slides across the spark wheel twice before you successfully light a flame. The two of you maintained eye contact while you lifted it up to his cigarette, watching him inhale the smoke. You light your own and melted into your seat, enjoying the quiet music playing in the background.

Jeongguk’s eyes remain transfixed on your side profile as you look out towards the distance, completely lost in thought. “Hey, Uhm (Y/N)?” He says before taking another drag of smoke to which you hum in response. “What are we?” The question echoes through your mind, makes a small lump form in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know.” You reply simply, not wanting to look at him in fear that he’d say he only wanted to be friends. After all this time of longing for him and watching him go on those stupid dates, you couldn’t handle being friend-zoned, especially subsequently to finally getting a taste of him. “Whatever you want I guess.” You add on, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. In the corner of your eye you can see his form slightly deflate. “Would you… not want to be with me?” He asked in a meek tone, turning his head toward the opposite direction. Seeing this as your chance to finally tell him how you feel, you let your tongue loose. “I would. Any day in any universe I would. I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met if I’m being honest, I guess I’ve just,” you paused, taking a moment to choose your next words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a fucking moron Jeon Jeongguk. I mean seriously what would make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you? I’ve been way too obvious, I thought you knew I liked you.” The words pour out of you before you can stop them, leaving both of you a bit surprised. “Do you just like me or do you like like me?” He questioned, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Are we in middle school or something?” You grinned at him, teasing his choice of words. “I like like you Jeongguk.”

#bts #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts x gender neutral reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #sub!bts #sub!jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts angst

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jmvore · 5 months

Text

mr. lover | wild thought(s) drabble [r1]

↳ SYNOPSIS › a little peace and quiet with your baby boy. » warning(s) › feeding Jimin strawberries, jimin getting horny from rubs, & Jimin falling asleep on you (nothing severe), touching genitals? idk what to call it but jimin humps you lol, loads of kissing (because who wouldn't want to kiss Jimin?), biting, a little foodplay. » pairing(s) › jimin x reader » word(s) › 800+ (it's a small one) » song playing › say yes by floetry » note(s) › so, this was supposed to be apart of a request but i couldn't figure out where to put it so i decided to make it, it's own drabble. it's barely edited sooo if it doesn't make sense, sorry lol. any pamper your baby boy! enjoy and

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️

› masterlist ‹

“Open up sweetheart.”

You gently stroke his chin, watching him close his eyes and open his mouth. The strawberry dipped in melted chocolate is brought to his lips for him to taste.

"Bite, Petal." He does he is told, moaning at the taste before running his tongue over his lips. He grabs your hand after discarding the stem in the trash as he licks the juice and extra chocolate off your fingers. "You're going to start something if you keep this up."

"I hope so." He giggles when you smirk, throwing his arm around your neck to try and unwind. There's a beat of silence. You welcome it, giving him the stress-free atmosphere he needs and playing with his hair. You run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a kitten. He loves it when you gently scratch his scalp. Pamper him like a princess while lovingly kissing his forehead and telling him you love him.

If he's being honest, it's his favorite pass time. Especially when neither of you have much going on and you can simply lay in each others arms.

Jimin yawns, melting deeper into your caressing. From the looks of it, you know he's going to fall asleep soon.

“How do you feel?”

“Better. Relaxed.” He grins, leaning up to press his body on top of yours. Only to cause you to fall backward. He giggles and you can't help but return the sentiment as he nuzzles his face in your neck and plants kisses all over your collarbones. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart." You stop him but he whines in retaliation. You know he's going to regret not going to sleep at his normal time. "Baby, it's almost three am. You need to sleep."

"I don't wanna."

"Jimin-" He cuts you off with a kiss before going back to kissing your jawline. You let the covers slip from your body, pulling closer to give his thigh a squeezes.

“I love you.”

“And I love you, sweetheart. Sleep.” You lean forward and kiss the top of his head as he lets out another giggle but this one actually makes you coo. "Baby..."

"No sleep. I just wanna stay up with you." He says playfully while he snuggles into your chest while throwing his arms around your middle. For a moment, you believe him to be asleep until he rises from the position he’s in and glances at your lips before looking you straight in the eyes and smirking.

“Kiss me again.” It's not a question nor was it a request.

You smirk once you realize it, placing your finger underneath his chin and pressing your lips against his like he demanded. Of course, that’s not enough. At least, for Jimin. He closes his eyes the moment you thread your fingers through his hair to pull at the tips of it as he moans, mostly sounding like a purr.

“You’re going to start something-”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Jimin grins against your lips before going back to kissing you. He pushes his tongue into your mouth but quickly loses control as he melts into your arms. He knows it’s doing something to you, the way you’re moaning and rutting against him. He loves the way you're so fucking into him and if this doesn't work out, he doesn't know if he’ll recover from how well you take care of him.

Shit, what if it doesn’t though… He doesn’t want to start over-

“No thinking.” You get him to look at you as you shake your head. You felt it the moment the kiss weakened. “Whatever it is. It’s not important right now.”

Your hands trail down his back to round his ass to get him to grind against your leg before giving it a smack. You squeeze and kneed it for his comfort before moving so he's laying on top of you.

"C'mere." You sound so fucking sexy and it has Jimin whimpering in return. "Look what you've done."

You bring his hand down to you cunt, letting him run his finger through your lips to see how wet you are. His eyes follow before looking up to you and meeting yours.

"You wanna play?" He nods but you shake your head. "Words, Petal."

"I-I wanna p-play with you. Yes."

His other hand goes to grab your breast, leaning down to roll his tongue around your nipple. Though just as quick as he was to start, you stop him by bringing him face to face.

"I wanna touch you."

"Do you?"

He nods, groaning when you nip at his bottom lip to pull it toward you. Rutting against you as his cock slides against your wet pussy. You softly moan the moment his hips fallen into a rhythm, not wanting to stop him because with how hard he is and how wet you are, it feels way too good to stop. Especially when he his cock presses against your clit.

“I’m gonna cum…” He whines as you grip his ass harder to get him to rut faster.

“Good. Cum for me, Petal.”

Jimin grips your shoulders to the point you know it’s probably going to leave a bruise. You don’t care, you’re more concerned with him cumming than anything else.

“Keep going, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum…” He whimpers again, face falling into the crook of your neck as he throws his arms around it. “C-Close…”

“Cum, baby. C’mon.”

“Ah! Ah!” His nails dig into the bed as he hangs his head in pleasure. He shudders through a chill. His hips stuttering the moment he catches his bearings. You reach up to caress the side of his face as he leans into it with a dopey grin.

“How do you feel now, Petal?"

Jimin collapses onto your chest with a deep sigh. As he lays there, you realize you’re going to have to coax him back from his head space.

"Baby?”

"’m 'kay…’ Jimin grins, snuggling his face into your neck. “I feel good.”

You hold him by his waist before rubbing up and down his back to get him to calm down.

"Wanna lay down?’

“Please.”

You maneuver him to the bed, getting him to lay on his front but he shakes his head. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he motions for you to join him.

“It helps.”

You nod, laying on your back, you pull him into your arms as you begin to trace the moons going down his back.

“Feeling better, baby?”

"Y-Yes.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips as you both smile into it. “Thank you.”

You notice he’s starting to nod off, his head lolling about once you get him to stay still in your arms.

"Sleep?"

“Sleep baby. I’ll be right here, Petal.’

Jimin hums as you place a kiss on his forehead and you can’t help but admire your baby. Hugging him tighter, not wanting to let go.

”I love you,” You whisper, knowing it’s most likely the last thing he heard as he begins to drift off into dreamland.

#jimin x reader #sub bts #sub jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fic #jmvore #bts x reader #bts x you #sub!bts #sub!jimin

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sugar-petals · 1 year

Text

The Canvas (m)⎮𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕!𝚓𝚓𝚔

/ - CANVAS (n.) a tattoo client or professional ink model.

pairing. › dancer!jungkook + female tattoo artist!reader

❞ SUMMARY. jk serves as your canvas for a renowned LA tattoo competition. experienced in keeping it calm, you lift the trophy by giving him a full torso makeover. the prize money and glory is yours, plus his new tattoo couldn’t look any better. so, what are you gonna do with all that?

MASTERLIST | [READ IT ON AO3]

↳ WARNINGS/TAGS. slow burn, femdom undertones, ponytail jk, friends to lovers energy 💕, smut + slice of life, jk is buff and shy (...and a sucka for pain 😛), warning for needles obviously, profanity, jk earns money as a camboy, riding, sub-ish koo {terminology note: `skin break´ ≠ injury, but blank skin space left between ink bits}

word count. 14k

↦ CARO’S NOTE. happy 5th year blog anniversary — gotta celebrate it with a story! you will find a lot of tattoo slang and the various schools of practice in this, but it will be explained along the way. enjoy, and thank you for all the support over the years 🐯

✪ PS. in the banner you see a famous tattoo artist, miss ryan ashley and her partner. it’s just for the aesthetic 😄 the reader insert doesn’t look like this, her description is vague as always :)

„Turns out we got actual money to blow!“

You overlook the six tied-up cash stacks on the makeshift plastic table, presented in a small iron case. In between, a massive champagne bottle: Unopened, because neither of you drinks. And, to be honest: It would not be necessary, nor pleasant in today’s oppressive heat.

The shaky nervousness from before the contest, far gone. Only adrenaline remains. And a jumping joy that makes Jungkook cover his face with both palms flat.

„I still can’t believe it!“

Since it’s his first time doing something like this, the whole event has left him increasingly weak in the knees. Jungkook really did look surprised when the results were announced in bright screen colors and the room was in absolute shambles. Standing ovations, even a couple cameras, big noise, everything.

„I know, man,“ you reply. „Wild day.“

„We did it.“

„Yeah. We can definitely be satisfied.“

You sitting down after all that maneuvering around on stage and behind it — it felt like a good way to cool off. Standing before an audience for two hours was something not to be underestimated.

Thank God there was an actual aircon back here. But still, there’s so much excess energy in your body. You can’t help but turn and turn the metal trophy in your hands, and kick your feet ever so lightly at the thought of really taking it home this time. Jungkook can’t settle on a chair at all. He’s just pacing around not knowing what to even do with his hands.

„The competition… They were so strong,“ he puffs out — the tone loaded with genuine respect rather than the much stricter attitude of discernment shared among today’s attending pros, yourself included. „They really preferred yours and not the tiger. Or the guy with the Leonardo DiCaprio portrait. That’s incredible.“

„Maybe. I think we got a better rating because yours healed so well,“ you gaze over your work again. The masterpiece of ink on him. You’re carrying a certain admitted pride in your words, but also relief. This has been one of your most ambitious tattoos in all the 15 years you’ve been in the game. It’s seriously been a journey.

In fact, the preparation cost more time and effort than inking a month’s worth of regular clients. Yes, daily practice was one thing. Competing, another. Especially with a model like that: Jungkook, whose performance had been nothing short of electric and stellar. On the ink bed, and on stage alike.

Even your fiercest opponent trying to impress the judges with their wannabe surrealistic tiger didn’t stand a chance against the level of 3D shapes and shading you created on his body. But the decision of the jury seemed close regardless, maybe for dramatic effect, so you retired backstage overjoyed. Where, and you really feel like you did his body justice, his tattoo looks just as vibrant under more crisp and cool energy-saving lamps overhead.

„Yeah, it really did heal nicely, though,“ he pats his solar plexus, almost massaging it. „It feels good.“

You bet it does. Jungkook is the type of client you would describe as— well. Very healthy.

Your mind would add some more colorful adjectives to that. But that string of thought really does stay at the back of your brain where some of your naughtier tattoo ideas reside as well. Which, and you were fine with that anyway, was certainly not the topic of today’s contest. Which rather wanted artists to show off their clean lines and some pretty harmless motifs, mind you.

Sure, the process of contests was always a little different. You didn’t care much. Some tattoo awards had the artists ink their models literally a couple hours beforehand. Others did a speed challenge on-site. Mutually nerve-wracking, but it was doable. Artists with a tight schedule did the same in their personal studios, after all. Canvasses would walk on stage with red blotchy skin all around the tattoo. This show, however, placed emphasis on longevity, the final result. To be prepared until the last detail, Jungkook had walked up in your downtown studio ten times beforehand.

As of now, a highly stylized XL rendition of Jungkook’s Doberman graced his torso. An illusion of color, created by brush strokes in ink rather than an exact replica of the polaroid pictures he had given you. Bam was a pretty cute pet dog, but also a very lively sight to see. Since you had insisted to watch Bam in motion like a live study, Jungkook brought him to the parlor more than once, which added to the hours you had spent together.

He was quite a majestic, eye-catching, streamlined dog. You had often tattooed smaller portraits of pets. Their faces usually, but not the entire animal, on a whole upper body for that matter. People usually wanted other tattoos to take precedence, like a landscape design. It took you five hours to come up with a dynamic winding pose. One that showed Bam in a slightly right-twisted bird’s eye perspective. Not in actual brown that was true to the real-life dog, but black, adding to the feel of a severe-looking brushstroke painting. Which apparently left an impression with the judges.

„And, the jury wanted enough contrast,“ you cuff your shirt on either side. „Was a good idea we went just as dark as your hair. Wouldn’t have worked as well otherwise.“

„It all fits together really well, I think. It’s become a bit, how do you say. One with me.“

Although you wouldn’t blurt that out like a preschooler, you do think so, too. Jungkook stood out among your clients as one of the cutest, with a body that was nothing short of meticulously sculpted. A waist that shocking, you’d never seen it. Even some of the bodybuilders you had tattooed didn’t have this kind of hourglass. Perfect to pick up on some carefully planned artistry, and easy on the eye anyway. However, nothing you’d say to his face.

Yet.

Who knows. You keep your expression neutral enough when he’s around. All day, you paid special attention to maintaining a stern composure in general, given how it was such a hasty crowded event to begin with. Not that competition would always favor the stern, but it sure helped with focus.

„To be honest,“ you put the trophy onto the table now, „The judges don’t splurge their points if it’s some muddy shit. The tiger paws looked pretty washed out from some angles. Your tattoo will fucking pop in any lighting. It has to.“

Bam was as eye-catching as a tattoo as he was in real life. You paid special attention to adding enough solid black. Contrast always needed a certain amount of courage. On your side, and a client’s.

Even now, in the solely artificial lighting of this shabby backroom, the heavy blocks of extra strong ink on his ribs, sternum and stomach create a nice interplay with the shape of his upper body. Unsurprisingly, Jungkook didn’t remember to put his top back on yet. And why would he bother. It’s been piping hot in the valley districts since 9:30 AM. So hot, a couple palm trees on your way to the contest site have been looking crispy.

„That’s one of the best parts,“ he nods, all while toweling down his neck from all the sweat. The stage had burning hot overhead lights and the audience number was breaking the four digits. Stressfully enough, in terms of decibels as well. Jungkook walked offstage with you saying his ears were reeling for a solid minute. It was more than necessary to get away from all the hustle and bustle after the supposed celebration was dispersing.

„Glad you like how it turned out, then. Took a lot of risks here.“

„I, uh. Really gotta thank you though,“ Jungkook proceeds to retie his little wavy ponytail, plucking the crown and baby hairs that went astray on stage back in.

He leaves some side bangs to the front, which is what you once remarked looks the best on him with his current hair length. Little did you know he’d take this so seriously, but you haven’t seen him without a hair tie since.

„You invested so much time,“ he continues. „You couldn’t take so many other clients because of me.“

„Time doesn’t bother me that much,“ you shovel some money bands into the bulky grey rucksack you drag out from underneath your chair, then take out some bottled sparkling water instead. This backpack has been both your lifeline throughout the day. „Those weren’t the easiest sessions, that’s what I mean. But you made it through.“

„Yeah,“ he smiles. You can tell he is a bit flustered by the money.

„The other clients can honestly wait. They know I do competitions from time to time. The regulars, at least.“

A dozen people sure said they missed you. Some newbies at the studio resented you for spending your „efforts and talent on one singular canvas“, but as today’s MC of the show had said: It’s for the greater good of a career to pursue contests, and helps a tattooist to be out there. „It’s an adventure!“ was the cheesy contest tagline. Not to mention that an artist who was good enough… would meet attractive people as a `pleasant byproduct‘ as one of your fellow West Coast contestants had joked backstage.

You had rejected that mentality beforehand. Craft came first. Ironically, it was you who simply searched for the right skin, motif, and proper frame who ended up with someone attractive indeed. Those things always happen if you don’t search for it. And it was an adventure, sort of.

Jungkook didn’t exactly pass out when you moved up to the rib with your tattoo gun, but damn. He was bleeding. In essence, the first appointment turned out to be a three hour groaning session. Since he already had a complete and partially reworked sleeve, it appeared like another tattoo following many. But the second visit was so intense, it had your canvas screaming out loud at some point — albeit he stubbornly refused to take a break. `Keep going… I can handle it.´

You usually did mid-range tattoos as your specialty, but his one was gigantic and painstaking. How he muscled through that psychologically, at his tender age, you’re not sure how. After the session was done, you would hang out eating pizza in the shaded backyard of the studio, listening to pop music and talking about tattoo shows as if nothing had happened.

„You mean, it was demanding?“

„Oh yeah,“ you screw the bottle open. „Demanding is the word. I mean, count the elements. That’s almost 150 sepearate parts to fill out.“

„Right.“

„If you want a tattoo to look like a real ink stroke, you need to consider how the separate hairs of a brush would behave. The color needs to be, sorta— like disconnected. I’ve freestyled a lot of it.“

That’s also a reason why you’re sure the tiger didn’t win, and Jungkook got full points. Which surprised you more than him, something that caught you off guard in a peculiar way, even if you were endlessly happy, of course. That Jungkook was sure that you had winning potential was definitely an emotional pat on the back.

Your New York-based opponent sure did ace the Old School American style. It had some pretty memorable turquoise highlights that made the other competitor’s trendy watercolor freestyles look boring, and his canvas was beautiful. But: In your eyes, the design didn’t have an elaborate sketch behind it, and tried too hard to be East Coast.

To their demise and Jungkook’s gentle content, the judges ruled that your tattoo had 99% razor-sharp edges and a smart construction of the design: „You’ve done your studio justice.“ Because Jungkook looked promising as a canvas and he was kind as a person, you were willing to sacrifice some things to approach that level of hard perfection, even if it was `just an edgy tattoo of a random guy’s pet´ as some of your rivals had criticized you arriving on stage.

It took you three days to draw it all beforehand, and one to make a stencil that could even remotely fit on a body as curved as that. You didn’t wing it. Got creative. Stayed up. Talked a lot. Played around with the dog. Filled in every blank, and calculated every skin break to make actual sense from a distance. Jungkook had an unbreakable patience, too. Making the tattoo a big deal and taking it this far was worth the extra eye-squinting hours.

„It was fine by me. I’ll have this masterpiece for life,“ Jungkook rubs his stomach, almost as if he could caress the motif. He really does genuinely like it.

„You will. Those colors won’t fade anytime soon.“

Three weeks of successful healing time proved the durability of the tattoo and the raw diligence of preparing all this. It all went by in a hurry. The whole competition was a sequence of travel, rehearsing, check-ins, and finding some suitable lotion to oil Jungkook up with since you quickly ran out of what you brought along. He was okay with you touching him like this. Jungkook said, since you had been under his skin, being simply on it was not the slightest inconvenience.

You did over a dozen contests before. You wanted your canvas to be shining bright in front of the discerning jury. Oil would add a gleaming touch to any tattoo, and helping Jungkook apply it was more than gratifying — not just artistically. You gotta drink a big sip on that.

„Amazing,“ he continues looking down on himself, his eyes really telling how exhausting the show was, but how rewarding. The 6’3 guy who got an entire sleeve and snake motif looked like an amateur canvas next to your model. Sure, the micro tats of some other competitors weren’t exactly precise and outstanding either so it had been easy to move to the Top 10, but when a tattoo artist was talking big game, big motif, big color, they better deliver.

„So— what do we fancy for the evening,“ you wave your backpack left and right, letting the cash tumble around. „Bowling? You’d be killin’ it. Buying some clothes? Or maybe we’ll go to an expensive club. You dance on the tables, I watch random people. You know, to judge their bad tats.“

He’s laughing at that. You’re sure you’D just be watching him move at best, he’s a dancer professionally — but anyway.

You continue listing ideas, but Jungkook sort of gapes at all the options without saying anything. He’s from a modest home like you were, the big city overwhelms him, as does the fact that you won 20,000$.

„You know what,“ the bottle wanders back into your rucksack, half empty. „We probably don’t have the energy to just straight up throw some big balls at a couple bowling pins, eh.“

Jungkook laughs again.

„Guess not. Would all just land in the gutter.“

„And shopping, that’s running a marathon. Maybe we can go to the club next week. What if we just sit on my terrace and watch some clouds? Back to the roots. I always do that to get inspiration.“

Jungkook perks up. You already invited him to your house before. It was a quicker, gentler recoloring session on a pretty dull rainy morning. To make sure he was competition ready, you carefully retouched some of his existing tattoos. His oldest, dearest ones. That’s how he got to see the Grey Room. Your art atelier, so to speak. Why grey? Because you don’t smudge — and the chair will prove it. Messy tattooists won’t go far, that was your opinion. Buying a black tattoo chair was an excuse.

„Hm, why not, I mean,“ he stumbles over his words, but you can tell he’s interested.

„Okay,“ you get up from your creaky chair, collecting the rest of your stuff, and he helps you with it. „It’s a done deal. You’ll see more of the house. The food is all prepared. Like, to perfection.“

During his recoloring session, Jungkook had to catch the bus right after, plus another client, Namjoon, came in for a lengthy consultation. It was all about whether you’d be sending Namjoon to an aesthetician for a laser treatment, or try to cover up the botched crooked rose on his pecs with a bigger design to one-up your precursor, this absolute idiot of a ‚line artist specialist‘. Your ass. It’s a crime to soil a person’s skin like that. Namjoon came in completely devastated and in need for help, so Jungkook quickly left. It ended up being the latter option, you tattoed a big fat 3D bonsai tree across the rose.

You only got back to Jungkook two days later, checking how his color was healing through video chat. He had stripped down enough for you to see the progress, and you tried your best to be professional, analyzing the next steps. Which had you excited, he always recovered exceedingly well, but you were both in a busy phase. Yet, you really couldn’t complain about not having him around. This tattoo and contest was a once-in-a-lifetime two-people project. It felt like being an Italian designer, taking your flagship testimonial to fashion week.

„Food?“

„I had Yoongi handle the ice cream maker this morning,“ you put on your shades, ready to go with your backpack filled to the brim. „But don’t tell anyone, lest my house gets robbed again. Banana flavor, by the way.“

Jungkook strangely doesn’t look as happy as you thought he’d be. But then again, not so strangely. Once the needle is inside and the first drop of ink settles in, you can read a canvas’ mind. It’s a connection that cannot be explained.

„Okay,“ is the lukewarm reply. He shoulders his own cross-body bag without really checking it once. Since he forgot his tank top, you hand it to him. It takes a couple seconds to register at all.

„Something not right?“

„It’s just, I wondered,“ he fumbles with the bag’s kinda tucked-in zipper. „You have— a boyfriend? Yoongi?“

„Ah, him,“ you chuckle. „No, Yoongi is my personal chef.“

„Oh, I see, the chef. I just, um.“

Jungkook looks wildly flustered at that realization, trying to find an excuse of looking away by fixing his ponytail, and rubbing his neck. Almost as if he got caught red-handed.

„And assistant. And the one who cleans my pool. And he schedules all my clients unless I do it myself. Yoongi handles everything on demand basically, so I can do this,“ you point at the surrounding hallway after opening the backroom’s lanky door.

A big red banner reading - LOS ANGELES ANNUAL TATTOO AWARDS - stretches well across the wall, and the area seems completely swept of people.

You did spend quite a lot of time talking backstage after you gave an interview for the local press while Jungkook posed for the camera — despite his first time doing this, like a natural.

„Seems like the competition headed home already,“ is your dry comment, but you’re not that surprised. It was too warm to linger in this building complex for any longer than the show lasted. You didn’t even register how stuffy the air was since you got so carried away together, talking. Although you would have loved to talk to some of the attending experienced masters, maybe it had been a good idea to dodge the hype.

„They really did hurry home.“

„That’s what we’ll do as well. Fifty scoops for each of us. Yoongi always makes a generous amount of ice.“

„Wow, it’s really all taken care of then,“ Jungkook finally manages to stuff the tanktop back into his bag, absent-minded. He hasn’t even considered putting it on, then. He’s too busy admiring that you have such a thing as a personal assistant and cook. The two of you tread down the hallway, causing a bit of an echo.

Jungkook looks at ease learning that Yoongi is more of a janitor. You give him the side eye, which he shamefully returns with a nervous laugh.

„I figure you like banana. And walking around like Abercrombie and Fitch.“

You point at the mauve-colored tank top that’s hanging out of his bag, caught by the zipper.

„Oh, oops!“ it finally clicks with a big flinch. He’s really been half-naked all the time, and only now makes an effort to pull the crumpled little piece of clothing back on. „I didn’t notice! I think the tattoo makes me feel dressed, um.“

„Car’s gonna be piping until the A/C runs full throttle,“ you head the way to the motor park, sandals randomly clacking onto the heated concrete. „Next thing you know, you’re gonna chuck your jeans into the Malibu beach waves and don’t even notice.“

„No, no worries. I uh, I’m back to behind the scenes mode,“ Jungkook’s giggling to himself, trying not to make it too obvious that he was quick to react.

„Took you almost half an hour,“ you say through a big grin, getting out your dangly car keys with the miniature plush bunny attached to it. Flashback to last month, Jungkook bought it for you as a thank-you present after he heard you mope about always overlooking your keys.

„Dancer thing,“ he says, sounding wildly apologetic. „I usually don’t wear that much.“

„Talk about getting naked,“ you both settle in the car, a block of heat hitting you in the faces. „You can use my shower to scrape off all that oil. There must be some kind of special cleanser I got, the one with the light green stripe on it.“

„Yeah, it’s gotten so sticky—“ Jungkook turns to check his back. „My shoulder will smudge that oil on the backrest… sorry.“

„I’ll leave the seat cleaning to Yoongi, he likes looking after the car,“ is all you can comment, kick-starting your car. What follows is the deep humming noise that the engine typically emits when the LA heat is extra crazy. „You can turn on the radio over there. It’s kind of a one-hour ride from here. You said you sing pretty well?“

The now switched-on A/C blows his tanktop around the way it wants. Maybe L.A. is cooking today because Jungkook is out here.

Rolling into your garage, you realize you’ve brought home everything: Except the champagne bottle. Fuck it, the heat in the car would have done weird things to the oh-so sparkling content, and putting it in a flash freezer at home would have resulted in a fizzy explosion that would leave Yoongi with some high ceilings to scrub. Treating yourself to some cold juice sounds much better. You have no interest acting out drunk and passed out on the floor in Jungkook’s presence. And in case an impromptu tattoo happens, alcohol is the last thing you want in his blood. The same goes for everything more than just a tattoo.

The metal trophy, which is elegantly shaped like a stencil and lighter than you thought, is more important. After parking, that one goes straight to the Grey Room award wall. You’re chugging the rest of your bottled water in one whole go. Sitting next to him had your eyes averted from the street more often than not, which in and of itself was a bad idea — but who knew a traffic jam could be a nice thing, especially if it took two hours.

Jungkook is busy otherwise. Exhausted from the black seat’s stored warmth, he exits the car moaning out loud at the heat outside. And, from a later-day sun having grilled the right-hand side of his body. Through the car window, all the way. His body is chilled from the A/C, almost freezing down the sweat on his tanktop, at least that’s what it felt like, until you noticed he was shaky and dialed it down. Jungkook is actually a little hoarse from singing his heart out. That will fade in a minute, though, he says.

While he takes that so needed shower, you dig through an absent Yoongi’s clothing rack, built into his assistant wardrobe. Since Yoongi is on the smaller side, there aren’t too many options, but you guess he’ll survive.

Feeling much better now, Jungkook winds up dangling his legs into your garden pool fifteen minutes later. That is, with extremely tight tennis shorts and otherwise nothing on, yet again. The white of the fabric might be opaque, but his thighs are big enough to let either leg ride up. Yoongi can be glad he buys so much stretch material, otherwise, those shorts would be bursting at the seams.

Unlike during the way home from today’s show, the yellow-pinkish color of the sky is finally worthy of a tattoo artist’s eyes looking at it. The white pillars of your terrace frame the outlook effortlessly like a little arcade, and the pool water feels like it has been cooling down significantly around your calves. No smog, no direct sunlight, no skylines. You’d not allow Jungkook to step even one foot in your backyard topless as he is if the sun was still high up. His tattoo had to be carefully preserved.

„I do like banana. Anything banana.“

He licks up a drop of surplus ice cream from the back of his thumb. It’s all melting in record time despite the 9 PM cool approaching. You both have to be quick. Luxury problems — at the expense of your waiting lemonade. Which you told Jungkook to feel free to pour up for the both of you during your own bathroom break some minutes ago. You changed into something even looser, put your base cap on, and the ice was already getting a little too creamy under the poolside evening glow.

„Mmh. Self-made ice cream is a whole ’nother level,“ you twist your cone. Mainly, to take off the melting edge of your scoop with the right corner of your mouth. „Cools the vocal cords, does it.“

„Seriously didn’t sing that much in a while,“ he cracks a smile, and you can tell he missed having free time like this.

„You’re not out of the loop, though. I could have taken you to America’s Got Talent and we still would have won. Hell, the Masked Singer. Dressed as a Green Raccoon. Or a fencing man. Lord knows what. You got a beautiful voice.“

Jungkook almost chokes on his ice cream at the mental image of that.

„I guess I’d rather be dancing,“ he shakes his head, „and walking around at a tat con. I’m really nervous about that one.“

„We can chill, that’s four weeks from now,“ you sip on your lemonade eventually, swallowing an ice cube that has melted down to a peanut-sized chunk. „You’ll get used to your new look by then. And everyone is out there, it’s packed. They all wanna outdo each other. We’ll blend in somewhere. Even if it’s probably not gonna be much cooler and we’ll still look like glazed donuts. We might as well leave the oil at home.“

Which didn’t sound to unrealistic. You’ve had Yoongi book the two of you for a tattoo convention display down at Hacienda Heights. Body Art Expo — one of the biggest events in the area. You could finally showcase your latest craft and meet some of your role models. This year, an influx of famous contemporary Japanese masters was guaranteed.

The overarching theme was announced to be traditional horimono craft. You’ve been dying to set up a little booth and take Jungkook with you to see the best of the best, and also flaunt his own frontal tattoo.

„Yoongi might as well park an ice cream truck for us there,“ he jokes.

„You’ll definitely need ice indeed after I go buckwild and give you a whole beginner’s hand poking treatment.“

„Hand what?“

„Hand poking,“ you laugh. „Tebori artists don’t really use automatic needles with some exceptions. It’s all done manually. You prick the skin by hand. Even the tattoo needle you have make on your own.“

„Like DIY, completely yourself?“

He got you started on one of your favorite topics. Well, well.

„Yes. It’s like a small wooden or metal stick. It has a grouping of needles fastened to it by string.“

„Oh… so that’s why— by hand.“

„Yes. And it doesn’t stop there. A machine has say, nine to 35 needles. My favorite tattoo gun has 22. Japanese traditional can go as far as 42. That’s why outlines are so difficult to do in that technique. And the gradients. Those are fucking hard. Getting a tebori tattoo is expensive with good reason.“

„42 needles!“

„Depends. It actually bleeds less. You feel relaxed after a session. The whole thing is like. Eleven inches long, bit more. The artist has ultimate control over how deep it locks in the coloring fluid.“

„Um, yes,“ is all he can say staring.

„The artist will use a sponge to pick up the ink, and drive the stick in by hand. Hence they call it hand poke. A full-body tattoo can take a year to complete. But the color has the best saturation. The needles are thicker, you can put lots and lots of ink under the skin that way.“

Which is why you’re so interested in it. Six years plus until you’d be able to fully practice that technique on someone. It’s your goal for your later career. To have your own tattoo family, apprentices, and letting the art live on through your canvases.

Maybe settling in Japan itself to learn from the best, or remaining overseas. As long as you’d be able to hand poke a clean line like a true master and sketch properly, artfully, just as the craft demanded. Time and place wouldn’t matter.

„You said that Japanese tattoos work with woodblocks, right?“

„It’s inspired by woodblock carving art,“ you nod, pulling out your phone. Plenty of pictures to show him, over 600, if not more. You shade the display with one hand and sit closer to Jungkook, swiping through the gallery.

„The actual design is painted with soot ink beforehand,“ you keep on explaining. „Like, a phoenix. A river, with flora. Some scenes of a kabuki theatre play. Or a goddess figure, that’s pretty common.“

Jungkook does look as hooked as you are. And— as a side note: He smells damn good from the cleanser you gave him. That shower must have been thorough. You sort of don’t smell it anymore when you use it, but when it mixes with his scent, that’s a whole different thing.

„That’s so cool… Would you do that on me?“

„Jungkook,“ you raise your brows at him. „That technique takes years to learn. With a mentor— And endless copying practice of their grand pieces.“

„You even need a teacher and copy what they do? That’s crazy.“

„When we go to the fair, I might get my hands on a bamboo needle to see how it’s like to hold. But I’ll probably just stand there and watch in awe just like you.“

„Wow. We’ll really be able to see a lot there.“

Jungkook’s posture appears significantly less tensed-up now, and you know you took his nervousness about the convention by directing his mind to a new idea. That he asked you to give him a traditional-style tattoo by hand without even hesitating has left an impression, but you try not to let your face show your respect. Most canvasses would be skeptical, frightened, or completely dismissive of the technique. Jungkook is nothing short of sexy, it’s literally right next to you — but it’s his open mind that makes him interesting.

„I know, right. But you still might be lucky getting a Japanese tat from me.“

„Really?“

He almost jolts up, which makes his left thigh rub against you by accident.

„Okay, I can’t just walk up and hand carve an entire body suit into your skin. Right. But you can actually do parts of horimono with, you know, automatic needles and stuff. Many traditional studios do outlines by machine these days, and only the coloring or shades by hand.“

„They do it both?“

„Pretty much. Hybrid tebori. The art of doing precise lines by stick is recently dying out. If we use the gun instead, for everything? You can still get a goddess tattoo like an original motif. It does take practice and immense research. But it’s doable with modern machines and an excellent design.“

If you think about it, Jungkook might just be the perfect canvas to dive deeper into Japanese tattooing, even more so than you already did. Not being able to do it the manual way would irk you, but you can work with what you have.

„Any suggestions where?“ he looks across his body, traces his hands, deliberating. „I mean, it could go anywhere for me. But, I mean you should choose where it fits the best.“

You do know a perfect spot, in fact.

The slimness of his hip makes it so that an ascending motif would widen up perfectly on the shoulder area. On the other hand, the extreme curve of his spine could easily warp the design when looked at from afar, so that had to be carefully considered. It’s all a matter of adaptation. You can already see details of this next project form before your inner eye, still.

„Your back is completely virginal, so. What about that.“

„Right, of course!“

„And that’s where you find a traditional placement anyway.“

Some proper skin breaks between the shoulder blades, maybe some more grey towards the waist level, putting in more contrast across the shoulders and neck… it all starts to form in your head. Fuck, Jungkook’s neck is actually your dream target area. Front and back. The underside of his jaw as well. Peak difficulty.

A pet peeve for many of your colleagues in the field because the skin is so delicate and hard to put a design on. Many people just say fuck this shit and freehand it completely. But to you: Sweetest spot you can think of. If he’s good to go, you’ll ink him with his neck hung from the edge of your tattoo furniture one day with an extra anesthetic. Maybe some kind of animal or interlocking pattern. It’s gonna look fucking awesome.

„Would you like, actually sketch something for me?“

„Sure. Or we’ll work together with a master who will design something with ink on paper to suit your body perfectly. We still need an entry piece for next year’s tat awards.“

„But I only want your stencil,“ he finishes biting off the lower half of his ice cream cone, looking pretty disgruntled at the idea of someone else being in charge of his back. You would rather consider an expert, but you can see his point. Everything on his body should look coherent, as in one singular handwriting. And you heard it. He only wants your stencil or nothing at all.

Of course the back has to match the abs and the pecs. Only a consistent style would ensure that Jungkook’s tattoos would come together as an aesthetic whole that carried your signature, which was not just something a show jury would appreciate. It was a just because thing.

„Fine by me, it’ll just take longer. And we do color.“

Which means, more time spent in the Grey Room, where you would keep all of your treasures. The inner city studio you share with your colleague, Taehyung, who was more of a Neo Traditional and portrait enthusiast. He also did blackwork just like you. That meant the present ink supply was either batshit crazy colors and dark shades only. Hence, you set up your own extra coloring studio at home to specialize.

„Love the idea!“

„So it’s a done deal, huh. We’ll do the project in the Grey Room by then, I’m thinking.“

It needs a different atmosphere and lighting to really get the most out of the hues. And: You created this area to make a canvas open up and relax. With your technique and shading style, coloring in the big areas was always a real pain in the ass for anyone with skin that wasn’t super thick.

Taehyung’s philosophy was always to ‚paint‘ his clients in a suave and fleeting way, whereas your approach was always go hard or go home. Jungkook could handle it, and his skin was rewarding to work on when it came to recovery. You can tell he’s more than excited.

„Really, thank you for this…“

„If a couple months work sounds like fun to you, we’re gonna walk up with another 20,000€ price money next year.“

You are starting to enjoy this idea of Jungkook being a tattoo muse, sort of like the faux Greek statues and busts that you had Yoongi put up around the garden when you moved in here. A lot of tattoo artists you were friends with were inspired by the renaissance, and you could see the appeal. That Jungkook was a walking Greek aesthetic with his curls and decadent body really does fit well into your home, now that you think about it.

„I have no problem hanging out here at all,“ he’s munching, tongue in cheek. „Your house is amazing. I bring along some groceries and such when you’re too busy. If, if you want.“

„Really?“

„Long as you can sketch in peace. I like doing laundry and those things.“

„Yoongi will appreciate it. More time for cooking his latest creations. You’re already renting out his clothing, we can cut him some slack there, huh. Doing a full landscape and figure will take us twice as long as with your ribs.“

And those were already insane to do. The skin was behaving almost like paper in some bits. Only the fact that he works out decently enough has probably saved Jungkook from losing his mind then and there. His back is going to be much easier to tattoo.

„A background landscape as well? “ he drops his jaw. „This is genius… Maybe we should do it later this year, September or so.“

„Good call,“ you blink. „Gonna be a bit colder. And you’re gonna be a birthday boy. A tat’s always a nice gift to yourself.“

The reality is: Most tattoo artists would kill to secure a canvas that was so patient. It was a biased view, but Jungkook would not just be a wanted man in his dating pool (which he already is, he’s told you about a lot of concerning things in his DMs) if he graced the cover of `Inked´ magazine.

The whole ink world would come running. You already brace yourself for the storm of showing him off at Body Art Expo. He would be noticed. Today’s experience showed his potential. People found him likable and sweet, and the muscles got them going. You worried if Jungkook would have to be protected from too much attention in the community. It wouldn’t be long until you wouldn’t be alone in a cool-down room. Today’s show wasn’t the busiest, but an Expo would be. People would absolutely bother him. Rather than asking you about your tattoo journey, or anything else constructive and useful.

„I’m really getting a back tattoo,“ Jungkook is buzzing with energy, splashing around water with his feet. His voice is just fine by now, only a hint of raspy at best. The energy low of the backstage room is pretty much forgotten.

„I’ll sit myself down with some books and I’ll get back to you next month with a first rough draft, yeah?“

„Can’t wait!“

„And after that,“ you shoot him a warning gaze more jokingly, „I’m sketching for your legs, too. Maybe with a realistic thigh tattoo. Or with some big red highlights and otherwise black only.“

„Woah! Red and black?!“

„Anything’s possible. Though, you know. Only if you want to, of course. I’m just brainstorming.“

But those thighs basically scream for ink, oh my god. You can’t even hold yourself back. Was he actually okay with that? By the looks of it, Jungkook didn’t have a single problem with you planning out his whole body’s new design.

„I have nothing against being a BLACKWORKS gallery,“ pats his thighs the most innocent way you could imagine. „I know I’m in good hands.“

BLACKWORKS was the name of your tattoo parlor, carrying with it the color you had specialized in. Ironically, setting up the Grey Room was the exact opposite, making a space to dabble in color. It was sort of the bane of your existence. One or the other, both, or alternatingly? Your sentiment changed with every larger project or every other client.

„Well, thank you. Any further questions?“

„I um… I don’t want to sound rude, but.“

„You don’t sound like it’s anything offensive, though,“ you lower your shades to squint at him.

„What are you like planning,“ he kneads his palms against each other, „I mean, with the prize money? I was, you know, just, uh curious. You always create cool projects and stuff, that’s why.“

„Oh that? We need that money for all the fucking ink you’ll be wearing!“

„Help!“ he squeals out, just as joking now.

„Seriously though. You’re gonna be my most expensive canvas. Taehyung spent a fortune finding the right pigment for all the True Black that went here,“ you point at his chest. „Only the highest quality Acrylic components in there. No metals, no allergens. No nothing.“

„Is it organic? That’s so Los Angeles,“ Jungkook giggles into his hand, trying not to make some organic this, organic that joke most probably.

„Better than having that shit in your lymph system. We don’t want that.“

„Thanks, you’re looking out for me.“

No toxins for your canvasses. And nothing you don’t know the effects of. More clients gotta get some education about this.

„Just duty. And LA sucks, I don’t care. Cheers.“

For the last sip of lemonade, you toast, and Jungkook reiterates that he’s feeling very much in safe hands — especially now that you offered him a sofa place to sleep on.

It’s really too late to drive him home. The highway ride would take ages, the traffic is even more terrible at this hour. Returning at like 2 or 3 AM would set you up for a lackluster sleep routine. He’s living alone in his flat so there’s nobody to inform, he’s not urgently missed and needed for something. That there’s no one waiting for him always surprises you.

That Jungkook is his own best roommate and doesn’t cohabit with his parents, all in a decently well-off part of the city on top of that — not the most flashy one, cozier, but still — tells you that he must dance pretty damn well and knows how to live life. He probably thinks the same about you anyway, although he keeps on saying you work too much for your own good, which might have a grain of truth.

You do wish you lived a bit like him. Then again, you’re well aware he has a hard time sometimes. Going by pictures he showed you, the flat he has isn’t a bad one at all. You don’t charge him for the tattoos, obviously. They’re competitive entries based on your decisions, not commissioned pieces. He offered pay, but you rejected the eight hundred bucks.

On a day where he let his guard down after three hours of conversation, Jungkook told you he’s selling his pics and videos between otherwise casual sentences. That was about two month ago. He didn’t say what pics and what videos, but you were beginning to connect the dots.

All the signs, they were there. The way he undressed, the way he was aware of how he came across, the way he was so photogenic. You worked extra hard on getting the clarity of the tattoo right. It’s one thing to look at black ink pigments in daylight or below the artificial lighting of a studio, but on camera, it’s absolutely a different thing.

Why he opened up to you, you don’t know. It was inconsequential. He didn’t mention it again, and it didn’t look like he was observing your reaction to it.

There was no telling what his shy tone of voice was supposed to say, or his intent, and you guess it all had many meanings at once. Maybe he just said it to say it. To get something off his chest. Jungkook often hesitated to vent, but he was honest telling you that. If anything — he trusted you enough to do so.

„I’ll just give you one of these at this point,“ you weed through your closet, pulling drawers, checking metal hangers. Eventually, Jungkook catches a white sporty tee that you’re tossing him, and lays down on the white king-size couch in the center of the living room. 11 PM. Sunday tomorrow. None of you caught a heat stroke. You’re both not that tired yet. There might as well be something left to do. So… Well.

„Have a good night’s sleep then,“ Jungkook smiles, already half settled— about to put on the shirt. You gotta stop him in this tracks somehow before he’s dressed again.

„Maybe it’s still time for a little treat,“ you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him, which he reciprocates with unbridled surprise.

„Did Yoongi put some other desert in the fridge, or—“

You shake your head.

„No, no. Something else. Actually, way else. Wait here, Jungkook.“

„O.k.?“

„Heading back in just a minute,“ you turn your head across your shoulder. „Look at my drawings on the wall or something.“

He does, gazing around the spacious room that is actually pretty bright and light at this hour. The team that did the electrics in here were absolute top tier in their field, although the house did not pass as 100% interior art. Rather, the tall walls were clad in big unfinished pen sketches and other blackwork ideas behind frames, mostly showing anatomical poses and various animals from all around the globe. Looking up, Jungkook got lost in a painting that showed a distorted self-portrait of you while drawing something on a table. Art of the artist doing art.

„You need to get yourself some of this,“ you interrupt, posturing yourself in the doorframe upon returning. Jungkook’s head twists in record time. His confusion is more than visible all across his face reacting to what you’re holding up with your right hand.

„Is that… Is that— Lubricant!“

Someone looks pretty damn flustered right now and it’s not you.

„Oh my god Jungkook,“ you shuffle closer to the sofa, thoroughly amused. „Actually read what’s on this tube. Here.“

You hand the mysterious black item to a very panicked mess of a weekend guest.

„Aftercare cream?!“

„Read on.“

„…for protecting tattoos.“

He just looks mighty exasperated now. Oh Jesus.

„Come on. It’s not some kind of after-bondage ointment,“ you laugh. „Just plain ole tattoo balm, okay. Nothing BDSM going on here.“

„Yeah… Yeah.“

„The whole thing’s pretty much a vibrancy serum, healing cream, moisturizing lotion, et cetera. All in one. That is considered a treat in my book. Treat as in skin treatment.“

„I uh, should have figured.“

Jungkook’s knee-jerk reaction has him crouching together in a gullible pose on the sofa, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. Broke a sweat for a minute there, did he.

„Your tattoo had a lot of stuff going on today. Oil and sun and sweat and chlorine, too. We’re not gonna let it rest unprotected tonight. There’s some regeneration it has to do.“

As per the contest rules, tattoos need to be fully healed to enter anyway, so today he’s not been freshly inked under the UV rays outside. But it’s still better to apply cream to support the tattoo as it is. And exposing Jungkook’s dirty mind for the sheer fun of it.

„Am a bit of a dummy,“ he hands the lotion back to you.

„The clean air around here has you wearing tennis shorts… and your mind in the gutter, does it,“ you snap the tube open, squeezing a generous double dime-size amount into your palm. It’s not like you didn’t check him out all day. Two minds in the gutter? That’s twice the fun.

„Sorry.“

„Don’t be. Now let me work it in, I’ll do that for you. The shirt needs to wait for another minute again. Fine by you?“

„Okay!“

„Then relax. It needs to be spread out properly.“

Running your hands across one’s favorite canvas should be considered a therapeutic method for any tattoo artist out there. You need to listen to a lot of shit, discuss a lot of shit, compete against a lot of shit, and draw a lot of even more shitty shit. It’s only fair you get to enjoy the silver lining as well. Savoring what you all do it for: Enjoying the aesthetic and the feel of the skin.

Jungkook is as pliant as ever accepting the treatment, and the balm does what it’s supposed to do. Seeping in, refreshing the skin, cooling it off. You knead his body in broad strokes of your palms, making sure the coverage is even. The tattoo again proves its bold winning ways shining bright even under the low ceiling lamp, and you again congratulate each other. No scabs at all, and the whole jury convinced. You beat a tiger, the watercolor dudes, tiny tat mania, Leonardo DiCaprio, and the tall snake bloke. The result was a memorable rendition of a pet dog that your client could not get enough of. What more could you really ask for.

Jungkook visibly hums under your touch and seems to react with cozy noises having his sides massaged. You’re careful with the ribs, his sensitive area. You’re totally not lingering on the pecs for a little longer. Your mind revolves around the thought of sitting down on his thighs to unpack the real treat and finally ride out your craving.

„What if we,“ you start, „You know. Actually use some lubricant. Here on this sofa.“

„Huh—? Really? In a way that…“

Jungkook awakes from his half-slumber that your hands had so calmly induced. In fact, he goes from sleeping beauty to wide alert in two seconds, propping himself up from the sofa cushions. To meet you face to face — he’s incredulous. Well, you aren’t exactly feeling coherent either, which surprises you, too.

„Sure! I mean. If you want to. There’s some of it in the other room that I can fetch. I figured we might. Just for fun, and… We know each other for a while now. To me it would be nice. Nothing fancy, just. We just do our thing if we like it. I’m still your tattooist. I wished we could sleep with each other at some point. I didn’t say anything because we had to focus on competing. Sorry for that.“

„Please, please don’t.“

„I preferred to make it about work until we sat at the pool today. If we’re fucking… It should be a comfortable moment where we really got to know each other already. You were pretty shy. So I was careful, right, although I’ve been teasing you anyway, I don’t know what you thought about that, if that was funny or not. But you know, the heat of the moment.“

„Don’t worry, I liked it.“

„I also didn’t want to make it look like I was trying to get in your videos for money or just because you do them, or mess with your personal business. I know this is a separate thing. So I was more, uh, asking casually. With the conventions and our projects, I want nothing to change there.“

„No, of course.“

„If we make this a big deal, I thought it would be risky. When I ask you this, there’s always the chance that it gets weird, people are being particular and act different when getting intimate like that, no matter if the night is good or bad or boring. But to me, I thought, after all our sessions being the way they were we had a body feeling for each other that was more progressed than just having sex. And I was curious how it would be naked, how we’d be catching up. Because you’re really hot to me… I really want to be on top of you. I waited so long to say this. God, fuck, Jungkook.“

„Yes.“

„Hm?“

„Yes, I want to. I’ve… been thinking about it as well.“

It’s a bashful confession that comes with a lot of baggage off his shoulders, you can tell. This all has been simmering underneath the surface. At least you managed to spill it all out yourself. Drawing a 3D face was infinitely easier, tattooing an inner fucking lip was easier. But now he was in the know, if he wasn’t before.

„Makes two of us,“ you twirl at his curly bangs with one digit finger. „Should I get it? And some other stuff. So we’re safe.“

„I, I have some protection in my bag,“ Jungkook goes on stumbling over his words, clearly not prepared for you touching his hair so playfully. „Just a minute. It’s upstairs. In the shower.“

Standing up, you both separate ways with telling, loaded glances. Jungkook couldn’t climb the stairs any faster, his expression is so sheepish. You really fucking did it. You asked and he said yes. Damn, hell yeah.

Walking into your dark bedroom, you pick up a non-fragrant wet wipe to clean your hands from any tat cream residue, although you’ve really worked it into him. Every last corner of his torso. The sleeve as well.

You constantly taught him how to take care of his arm and the other tattoos, but this was a new one. Jungkook will keep the healing cream, you’ll gift it to him. It’s high-priced stuff, but why’d you care. Your home tresor now holds a whopping 20,000$ in cash, and you can topple into your bed happy and content after knowing you own the L.A. tattoo scene as of today.

Jeon Jungkook, he was truly a standout client. Picking up the bottle of lube from underneath your bed, you couldn’t believe you just make the step to breach the professional, invisible wall of being artist and canvas. The excitement gave you a nice gut feeling that was similar to walking up at the show’s venue this morning. You’d have him on the couch, you’d get some fucking dick tonight, no sketching, no planning, no phone calls, no nothing.

You bring a large towel that Jungkook puts under his back and legs, protecting the sofa. Two water bottles, too, there he goes. Although you don’t want this to be the most sweaty exercise of all time, you both have to stay hydrated. After such a stuffy long day, anyhow.

He looks hot chugging it down up to the half-a-litre mark, and you drink from your own bottle with one hand pulling down your pants to the knees. He helps you remove them across your ankles, and he leaves two little kisses on your lower shins. It’s the first time feeling his lips are on you, and it’s a peck just as unique as you thought it would be.

When you hook your index fingers at the top of his shorts, you notice that Jungkook already fitted a blue condom inside his pants.

He didn’t want to do it in front of you and make it awkward, or expect you to touch him just for practicality first rather than touching him for sensuality first. Obviously it could be hot rolling it down on a guy, feeling up what would be inside of you, the whole girth. But safe to say he knew what he was doing. Jungkook didn’t want to compromise you. With all your thoughts that you had, that was a subtle act of reassuring.

Since you brought along the lubricant, you could still get to enjoy having your hand wrapped around him, spreading the heavy liquid rather liberally, feeling it melt around him. You wiped your hand on the towel and climbed up to his lap while Jungkook was kicking off his pants with a hip-to-knee coordination that you haven’t seen yet.

It dawns on you. How could you forget what he usually does. He wasn’t just a dancer by profession, but at heart. Those things were hard to suppress or not do. Just like you couldn’t look at Jungkook without feeling inspired to create tattoos. Which, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, his bare skin was desperately begging for, it was so inviting. You already saw him more than scantily clad, but with his shorts down, his waist and hip showed themselves in their best light. You loved his body shape.

And damn, it felt so good to finally be naked in that summer evening heat, feeling the A/C lightly tickle up your spine and neck from behind. It cooled down your back just right, and you chucked away your underwear for it not to lay around on the sofa. Although the lube was more than enough to go by, you gathered some saliva in your mouth to spit on his dick. It made him twitch and moan, „Yes please.“

There was no need for any aperitif, you weren’t in the mood to go through any foreplay. Jungkook looked delicious enough to have you on edge, and the lubricant would do the rest to make him gliding inside even smoother. You squatted over him and aligned yourself, got comfortable in stabilizing your legs this way.

Jungkook closed his eyes and only looked when the tip was way in, approaching the mid-length of his cock squeezing inside of you. Of course you were still a little tight, but some positioning would change the angle for the better. Jungkook asked if he could use his hands and got green lights from you. Judging by how they were slightly dry on your skin and the scent they had, Jungkook soaped them down when he was picking up his cross-body bag from the bathroom some minutes ago. Everything by the book.

One on your hip, the other playing with your clit, you began to realize just how good he was with his beautiful fingers. It wasn’t just you having the manual skills in this relationship. He was remarkably cautious and had concentrated eyes. So far, you enjoyed that Jungkook was more observing rather than staring, and had such a nice ring to his moaning voice as if he was a singer.

From your perspective, seeing his tattoed fingers curl between your labia and his tight chest muscles moving right along made you crave more cock inside. It slid in almost naturally with the stimulation that came from his fingertips. Jungkook’s voice went right along with it, describing in sounds rather than words what the situation was like.

„That’s really good, stay in that spot,“ you told him, and added a slight up and down to your movement on his dick. Only a slight drag on his shaft made it harder to push him inside further, but that was likely because he had been growing in size a little more.

Learning how to tattoo meant studying some architecture as well to be able to pull it off, and in your case, you soaked up all historic Greek building styles there everywhere. If you were to describe Jungkook as a column, it would be Doric. Full in the middle, definitely not Corinthian in length, actually more Roman Tuscan which was full and convex with a slender, triangular tip that extended toward a nice curving girth the further down you went to the middle.

„So pretty. Your dick feels good.“

„I really hoped you’d like it.“

Meanwhile, he had less circumference at the base. Which you found pleasing to the eye, and pleasing when you sunk down on him fully. That meant squeezing down some lube which would squirt on his balls and made your labia extra slick and juicy, stretching on the sides of his shaft like soaked little lips.

A bit would splatter to the side and smear across the lower side of your ass. It pulled threads when you were reaching the lowest point of your bounce, which alerted Jungkook’s usually waist-bound hand. He had noticed that you felt discomfort with it and wiped it flat to the side in one go.

To your surprise, he gently licked across the sides of his fingers to clean it up. Jungkook licking his tattoos had to be something you didn’t know you needed and one of the top five things happening today. The innocence but quick efficiency with which he did it, priceless. He didn’t stick out his tongue that much, just a decent fourth of it. His calm and naughtiness spoke of low performance anxiety, which you attributed to him being camera-savvy, doing his solo videos.

Still, going balls deep had Jungkook whimpering through his teeth with his eyes closed again, an immense tension spread across his face. Even his left hand on your clit briefly stopped. He had to accommodate to being inside, so you wouldn’t go on moving until his features would relax a little more and he sighed out. It was all fully in the moment and you loved to continue moving up once he was okay again.

Jungkook and you were comfortable with one position for now. In your head, you have a thousand things just like a full-body tattoo would look like, but in reality, you can only ink one thing at a time. Perfecting his little quickie would pay off much more than bending each other around. He had been hectic enough going up the stairs, he had been nervous and confused all day. You had so many ups and downs of adrenaline yourself. This had to be deliberate.

Although you told him he didn’t have to if he couldn’t do it, you found yourself asking Jungkook to give you some understated hip work. Just to begin meeting you halfway, to press his balls against you softly, to create some more lewd noises — and to see his whole body go like clockwork so you would see his tattoos dance above his muscles.

Since he observed you well, Jungkook amped up the stimulation enough for you to feel your pleasure starting to build up fast like a coil waiting to be undone, at its very peak of feel-good. The thought of having a climax right on his dick was spurring you to move, chasing the high and needing the smack of your ass against the jerk of his desperate thighs.

„Keep going… I can handle it!“

Jungkook sounded like he was about to cry, which told you he must have cum inside the condom. Hell, he was moaning so passionately, it could have been at any point in time. Going by his usual policy, he didn’t want to put pressure on you or mess up your own timing. He left you to do your own thing, just like you said you wanted. Lord knows he might have popped a pill in the bathroom to keep his dick up for long enough.

All you knew was, the suction created by you riding him very roughly at a high pace kept him erect, leaving you space to cum on his sloppy dick before Jungkook would enter a post-sex delirium. It was sudden and left you clenching up, heart rate thumping and a huge wave of release making the round through your torso. You squeezed him tight, he reacted by slowing his waist down. That way, you could savor the orgasm without disturbance, and leave your eyes shut for a moment. Jungkook helped you go from squatting on the heels of your feet to the knees, coming much closer to him now and leaving him buried deep.

„Fuck, so good!“ you plant your hands on either of his shoulders, cooling down. The A/C continues to release a calm stream of air into the room, which is deeply needed. You can’t believe it’s already happened. Or, how fast it could happen once you asked this way. He gave himself away freely without expectations, Jungkook went along like a champ.

You stay seated this way for a long time. Relaxing. Up until you both have normal breaths, up until your sleep hormones are kicking in. You glide off his dick with Jungkook’s help, him kissing the inside of your thigh while you lift it across his face.

Jungkook insists to stay on the couch, he doesn’t want to move or just come along to the bedroom he’s never been in out of nowhere. He mumbles that he’ll somehow get himself to the bathroom in ten minutes, it’s okay, he doesn’t want aftercare just more to drink. And a little snack from the fridge, maybe.

He cleans you up with love and care, then discards the more than ruined condom that had to endure being soaked from either side, outside, inside. It didn’t rip, but it looks as mushy as it gets. You really fucked the shit out of him. Everything wet and full of lube. Although it looked messy, it didn’t feel like it. Jungkook was effortlessly good in bed and immediately grasped what you wanted. The fully wet condom was a mere testament.

Seeing just how drenched and mixed up everything was, though, Jungkook points to his bag, you pull out a flat paper box.

„Yeah, just to be sure,“ you nod and pop the contents on your tongue, downing the little pill with a bunch of water. Jungkook probably made the cutest babies ever, but your whole stomach was your former first teacher Boa freestyling the absolute madness of an impeccably scaled dragon in every available color that was your lucky charm, so that wasn’t happening.

Where stretch marks would mean a ruptured masterpiece, a whole C-section would give you a thousand years of bad luck for chopping off the dragon’s feet. It would be an aesthetic crime for someone aspiring to perfection, and you wouldn’t want to draw the wrath of Boa for the sake of a kid you had zero time for to begin with.

Come to think of it. Your conservative neighborhood would probably call the cops if they learned about how the eccentric tattoo artist raving about ‚hand poking‘ and homoerotic Greek culture all day had a lovechild with the Doberman chest guy whose main source of income was shaking his ass into a camera.

So — Jungkook himself was more than just prepared. Even if he didn’t look nor act like it, he had his sex life together. Hacks, contraception, technique, hitting perfect pitch on his moans, everything. This guy was a professional in a way that you would tattoo abstract art. You admit to yourself that you tasted blood despite 85% of California men not doing it for you, and that included the majority of model canvasses. Jungkook had something completely unoffensive and pleasing about him. Something intricately submissive that was worth exploring.

Even if he came too early, he didn’t complain about it or give himself a hard time, or get in your way with it. If anything, it let you know that Jungkook liked what you did. You felt complimented that he reached his climax so easily with you, though you have to ask why he wanted to remain in the living room when your bed was much less improvised than the couch.

„Not making it a big deal,“ he says, smiling a little at you. „Nothing much changes. You’re my tattooist.“

And he’s right. He would have slept here if you didn’t fuck. The couch is big and comfortable, anyway.

While you get dressed in the bedroom, you hear him sneak upstairs. Using the tap, and you hear the clothing dryer being switched off.

You’re already tucked in when a little „thank you for todays session 🐰“ text lights up on your phone screen, followed by „and congratulations 🎊“. You reply with a „right back at you“ and call it a day, recounting today’s events in your head with an excited feeling. Good one. You even forgot you actually had a phone. Today felt like the longest 24 hours of this year.

Jungkook gets comfortable with a cold drink on the living room table next to him. Even if he’s not getting the hang of this house yet, that’ll do. He’s closing his eyes at some point. Everything that’s happened feels like it’s locked into his body. Big show, big lights, photoshoots, karaoke, brainstorming for the future. The two of you need some well-deserved rest tonight. He’s not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere.

The heat of the summer nights in this part of the town is reliably stable. Still, you left him the shirt in case he still needs it. Yoongi will take care of breakfast before either of you wake up tomorrow, and the kitchen will be clean as day. A nice thought to hold onto, as well as the confetti raining down on stage. And that fact that you just hooked up.

„Rise and shine my queen,“ resounds the upbeat voice of Yoongi. You always twist around under the duvet for a solid minute, then realize every time that it’s just your phone alarm sounding off like that. On a grumpy day, you once told Yoongi to record something that will get you out of bed, and this was the result. By the time you’re waking up, though, your house is all prepared. Yoongi took off for errands already.

After handing Jungkook an illustrative traditional tattoo book from your little house library to get a feel for possible designs, you sit down together. At the kitchen counter-turned-bar-turned-breakfast-table, Jungkook is fresh out the shower in a bathing gown he found nearby. Again — a garment way too short for someone with tempting legs like that.

On him, it’s basically a mini wrap dress. Not to mention the cleavage, where his tattoo is boldly peeking. Crisp edges, deep color, the black consistent. Not to brag, but you want to pat yourself on the shoulder for that job. It looks just as scrumptious as the little buffet that awaits the two of you.

„How’d Yoongi react to the tennis pants on you?“

„No idea,“ Jungkook ruffles his hair, damp and strongly curling. „Probably didn’t even register that it was his clothing at first. I was sleeping anyway when he arrived.“

„Right, he comes in around 5:50,“ you pick up a brimming sandwich, stacked with lettuce, bell pepper, and extra-layered vegan cheese. „You just saw him leave or so, right.“

„We said hi for like ten minutes when I woke up,“ Jungkook gets busy putting cherry jam on a croissant, „and he congratulated us.“

„I sent him a link to the interview we did after the competition.“

Your group chat is just a cat picture, event info, and meme dump at this point, this was one of the more serious entries. You know Yoongi for too long.

„Then I asked if he also got tattoos from you,“ he stirs his tea, and a little smile rises. Of course he had to ask that. Yoongi was plastered in freestyle 3D tattoos and song lyrics. „Then he told the story about how he started working here. So that was hilarious.“

„Abbreviated, though.“

„Abbreviated?“

“Yoongi never tells the full version where he freeloaded getting a portrait of Holly on his underarm. He didn’t have the cash, but we were college friends. I almost fell for the trick when he wanted a matching one for his girlfriend. As an exchange, he was cooking here for a week. I ended up hiring him, he’s really good at those things.“

„I was still so tired, I think I didn’t quite pay attention to the story anyway,“ Jungkook laughs. „After he showed me his knuckle designs up close, I was thinking about how I got my own.“

„Hand tats are different gravy,“ you fill up an empty glass with extra orange juice, one eye still in Jungkook’s cleavage. „Probably ’cause you see ’em all day.“

You think he does notice your gaze tracing his body. But you never know when Jungkook is terribly shy or ready to flirt the house down when he does that one wide-eyed expression.

„And then Yoongi said, I should just put on his stretchy sweatpants from the lowest drawer? I didn’t really know where that was.“

„Oh right, he doesn’t use that drawer anymore. That chapter is closed.“

„Anymore?“

„Yoongi stopped playing golf. He had his shoulder messed up in an accident.“

„Oh no…“

„Five years ago, I think. He got hit by a delivery car a mile up the lane. Never fully recovered.“

„Ouch…“

„So all that golf stuff is unused. Might as well steal a polo shirt and socks from there as well. Down the hallway, last door to the left. I make sure nobody eats your croissant in the meantime.“

He’s giggling. Golf clothes, it is. The morning is significantly cooler, you can feel it in your bones. A welcome refresher.

„Sucks. Sorry about Yoongi’s injury,“ Jungkook gets up, which loosens his belt a little too much. The bathroom gown really is falling apart left and right. You can see his thigh exposed, all the way up to the right hip. Your dear guest tries to hold everything in place shamefully with two hands, then pulls the belt now twice as tight. „Down the hallway, last door, left, correct…?“

„Yup.“

Off he goes with bouncing hair. You browse through the tattoo book while obliterating your sandwich, shifting your brain back into business mode. Shit, why’d he pick that short fucking gown instead of a regular damn towel.

In the assorted picture part of the later chapters, you find some beautiful ornaments that would literally, and you can tell right away, work so well as a frame for his back tat. Some almost naturalistic shapes, and either clouds or wind on top. Maybe even both, most deity figures in the book had several elements surrounding them. A playground for anyone who knows what they’re doing. The sketch was going to be fun to make, and interesting once it came to application.

You already put in an extra hour for Namjoon’s bonsai cover-up. Jungkook’s September appointment would be twice as intricate and dynamic. Because of the sheer overwhelming size, anyway, and Jungkook’s body shape presenting the challenge of tweaking the design’s perspective. Now that you’ve seen him stripped down all the way — maybe you do have a better understanding of him even more so.

You shiver at the thought of an unskilled tattoo artist ruining a beautiful physique like that, especially across such a large area. Thank God Taehyung sent him to you after realizing that ‚suave and fleeting‘ was clearly not what Jungkook was looking and suited for. JK’s first tattoo had been a simple refresh of some letterings on his sleeve, and the heart on his hand. A month later, he was ringing you up again.

„I think you’re the one. I have a shoulder bit that needs a touch-up. And maybe… you have an idea for the right underarm.“

What surprised you, Jungkook has never been the one choosing the tattoos. He quite liberally had you picking it all— and even without his request, you’ve now been coming up with motives to add on.

Laid-back as he is, „you do you, all access“ is all he thinks about that. Jungkook does an impromptu trust fall into your tattooing chair every time. To be honest, you could never. Boa was the only one you’d confide in like that because she knew what your taste was like and had the best technique you knew. When she told you that she’ll be moving to San Francisco and you were ready to open up your own parlor, that your 5-year education was complete, you cried, it was the best and worst day of your life. Maybe, she’ll be hosting at the next convention.

The road to San Francisco was a 6-hour drive, you do see her every other month at least. Hanging out at her own gigantic studio was one of the best things to do on the weekends. But it sometimes feels like she’s missing in presence and advice, still. Hell, you text Boa almost every day. You like all her Instagram posts, she sends you almost every larger tattoo or notable smaller ones she did on clients, so you could study the way she did it.

Just when you ended a session contouring Bam’s ears and eyes and paws, Jungkook once met your former mentor when she dropped by on a Friday evening at BLACKWORKS. Boa was depositing some ink and needles that she didn’t need, and she said well, maybe you could those try out if they work for you. However, she refused to give you any counsel. Boa insisted you had to figure out Jungkook for yourself and own up to that. Knowing her, Boa was always 90% right about the things she said.

So, all else aside, she would be the only person you’d allow making a surprise design on you. But anyone else? You’d tell your tattooist when and how and why to fucking move the needle one split inch to the left and to the right, even if they were tattooing your back and you couldn’t see a thing. In your deepest sleep, you could feel and hear and smell an idiot not filling out a corner properly.

You’d tell them exactly when to switch colors, disinfect their tools on your own, and not allow a single deviation from the stencil. Or else you’d instigate a general lawsuit to shut down their studio, good riddance. And Jungkook was the precise opposite of that.

Switching colors? He didn’t even care about those things. It was all about lying down and letting it happen instead. Taehyung once remarked to you over a very strong coffee: „He’d still think you’re cool if you ruined him entirely“.

The vast majority of your clients would rather give you their idea and you execute it for them. Point blank. Modify it at best. Maybe correct it a lot or give a second choice of the same aesthetic. Say, you’ve had this lady Hyuna come over, she wanted a cute teddy bear, but the area on the leg was better suited for an elongated cotton candy motif, so you both went with that and put the teddy bear on her shoulder blade and her husband got the same one later.

But you never got someone begging for you to decide it all to the last millimeter. Not even the canvases that flirted with seasoned contestants at the show were ready to surrender their skin this way. If someone wanted to kiss their tattooists’ ass? They’d rather spill out the most dramatic speech of praise on their work. At this point, you’re sure Jungkook likes you in a way you don’t yet understand, or never experienced.

Even the most trusting veteran clients of yours wouldn’t act like he would, and even canvasses of absolute genius tattooists would come to the revered maestros with their own suggestions and some big no-gos. Jungkook’s `do what you want, and only you can touch my body´ attitude has almost made even Taehyung’s eyes fall out. And Taehyung’s seen a lot of unhinged clients over the span of his career.

It was quite obvious to you that he’d be your award show canvas for more than just one gig. He had the kind of enthusiasm and an empty space on his legs and back. His dance background had also given him the gift of even subconsciously presenting himself well in front of crowds because of his posture and way of walking.

In a way, you were almost too happy that Jungkook came back for more now, and he was trusting. You’d reward him with poker straight edges and extra time for creativity. For some reason, you were biased, and that already happened way before you slept together. Jungkook would spend the birthday of his lifetime getting his back tattoo.

While you ponder, there’s some noise from the other side of the house, and he’s returning.

„Did he mean those?“ a little question poses from the entrance of the hallway, and it’s Jungkook standing in the frame all dressed up.

„Sporty!“

„Yeah—“

„Can you still feel your circulation or not?“

„I needed to try several socks until it felt comfortable,“ he giggles, in typical manner, and does a little spin for fun.

Even though you’ve seen Jungkook’s naked back a thousand times in your studio, in fact you know every hair of peach fuzz on it, you’re carefully surveying it now more than ever, painting a tattoo across the bones and muscles with your eyes. Maybe his ass was next in line after the thighs, by the way. You’d run out of conventional space anyway.

„And I always thought Yoongi’s feet were pretty large. Turns out yours are bigger than his?“

„I can’t really explain it either, maybe the socks ended up in the dryer somehow?“

Yoongi really is quite a bit smaller than Jungkook. Formerly just a normal fitting piece, the polo top is pretty much a muscle shirt now. Preppy fashion runway? No, he can make your house look like a gym outfitter. The light-colored pants — it’s obvious he’s not wearing anything underneath. That silly riffled waistband is holding on to dear life. He couldn’t even tie a ribbon with the strings.

„Turn this place into a laundrette, I don’t mind. I’ll leave you in charge of the washing machine next time. Yoongi bought enough fabric softener last Wednesday.“

„I saw! Cotton candy flavor.“

He might as well be a tailor, too. Most of the clothing construction threatens to fall apart at the widest point of his thighs, at least the slender calves fit in these pants. But: It stretches, and he’s got something on.

You drop your empty juice glass into the sink, alongside your plate and sandwich knife. Your wink is far from unsettling to him.

Jungkook doesn’t want to wait until Yoongi returns to take care of the dishes. He also hand-washes his clothing from yesterday in the sink. It’s funny seeing it hang and sway dry outside, but the approaching sunshine heat promises that he’ll be good to go soon enough: With proper underwear.

For the time being, you pour some water into the fridge’s icemaker and give Jungkook a house tour. There’s finally someone you can play table football with. On the first floor, where you arranged your luxury woman cave five thousand. Yoongi could only play the defense with one arm, so you had to rely on random color tattoo clients being down to square up against your national team after a consultation. It was more fun to play with a friend.

Powered by his now-tied ponytail, Jungkook is actually too good to play against, which you notice being five-nil behind. Regardless, you `magically´ recover at seven-nine, right after he whines how a stray lash keeps poking in his eye.

There is no stray lash to be found when you check up close, but you still enjoy looking in his eyes. Jungkook was definitely blessed with some of the most reassuring bambi-like eyes. That deep reflective hazel tone looks better than any pricey brown ink of yours ever could.

Nature, after all, is the best tattooist.

read it on ao3

[dom!reader MASTERLIST]

note. thank you for reading to the end <3 i hope i got you dreaming of back/chest tattoos for jk now 😂 i love this topic, it was really intricate to write and i hope you enjoyed!

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan #sub!jungkook #dom!reader #kpop smut #+ yoongi makes a cameo as a chef #kpop fanfic #sub!bts #sub!kpop

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lolabangtan · 2 years

Text

arte factum | pjm

After your ex-husband is found dead in his house, you're burdened with the well-being of his latest invention, a good-looking, polite android who seems to have a peculiar interest in you.

Word count: 17k

Warnings: smut, somnophilia, obsessive behaviour, suicide, mentions of domestic and psicological abuse.

# Artifical Intelligence AU, horror, sci-fi, sub!Jimin, dom!female reader, yandere!android Jimin, vouyerism, he uses one of her panties to jerk off 😭, ma’am/Master kink, homeboy just doesn’t handle well seeing her naked, creampie, ‘unprotected’ vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, fingering, horny groping, he needs to chill, face-fucking him with her fingers? idk.

A/N: lots of plot, read with caution. I don’t really know what else to say. Just, hm, enjoy the filth? Sub!yanderes are probably one of my lowest fantasies 😗✌️

Read this story listening to its own Spotify playlist.

“I didn’t know you were back already. How did it go?”

You’re still staring at your reflection on the teacup, the steamy drink smudging your face despite your complete stasis. It’s been at least five minutes since Taehyung poured it for you, but you’re still gripping the cup instead of sipping it.

“Well,” you murmur without looking away, “how do all funerals go? – they’re always depressive as fuck.”

Yoongi takes a seat in front of you “You know you can be sad about it, don’t you? It doesn’t mean you’re to blame. We— we don’t know anything yet.”

“My husband killed himself!” you blurt out, finally ripping your eyes away from your reflection. “I know I didn’t do anything, but still— maybe I could’ve done something. Maybe— maybe he wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t sued him.”

You’re still wearing all back, sitting down miserably in your kitchen. That tea that Taehyung poured you is starting to cool down.

“Your hubby was a psycho, remember? It doesn’t make him any less of a stalker just because he’s dead now.”

Your friend has always had a way with words, you think to yourself with a chuckle; after all, he’s right. Just because he’s dead, it doesn’t mean he didn’t put you through all that shit. In a way, and you feel terrible for this, you’re kind of glad he’s gone.

“Mrs Im said they’d read the will this evening. You’re not going, after all?”

“You think he left me anything?” you ask him with an arched eyebrow.

But Yoongi just shrugs. “Maybe. Who knows.”

Even if he did, you’re not sure you want any of the things your ex-husband could’ve possibly left for you after his death. They’d be soiled with hatred and poison.

It seems, after all, that he did leave you something in his will. Or that you suspect, at least, after you’re summoned to his house by one of his lawyers. You can’t even describe the goosebumps rising in your skin as you walk into the suburban house that you used to call home.

“Ma’am, it’s good to see you.” Mrs Im rushes to shake your hand when she sees you. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” you say half-heartedly.

But, well, you went to the funeral, so it would be odd not to come; you need to finish off and seal this part of your life for once and for all.

“Don’t worry, it’s just some money and the art collection.” You don’t miss the way the woman and the notary eye each other, and you cross your eyes. “Uh, well, there is something else... that he left for you hoping you’d accept. One of his last creations. He finished it a few months ago.”

“I don’t really need a vacuuming robot, thank—”

“Oh, ma’am—! It’s something completely different,” the lawyer cries out.

With an arched eyebrow, you follow them down the hall, now more intrigued than ever, and walk down the steps that lead to his lab, where he’d work on all of his inventions. A mad scientist for a husband is what you had. A truly mad genius. You can’t even fathom what he’s invented this time.

Since it’s not been longer than a week since he passed away, the place is just as eery and spooky as it has always been.

You walk downstairs following the other two and stop in your tracks when they do, almost bumping against them. Arching your eyebrows once again, you open your mouth to ask them what’s wrong but go quiet when a young man, standing naked in the middle of the room, waves at you with the sweetest of smiles.

“God! I told you not to turn it on yet! Fucking hell, I almost had a fucking heart attack,” Mrs Im grunts, putting her hand on her chest.

“S-sorry, I swear I thought it was turned off when I left...”

Your eyes can’t help but flutter down to his crotch; his cock is thick and decently sized, but what truly makes your mouth water is how it reddens and twitches when the two of you meet. Oh, how you like nice cocks. How you need one in your life— isn’t he gonna cover himself or something, though?

“Uh, nice to meet you. Anybody cares to explain what the hell is going on?” you finally blurt out, a bit tired of their antics and dying to just have something else to look at. “I’d like to go back home as soon as possible.”

The woman takes a deep breath. “This is it, ma’am— this is what your husband wanted you to keep—”

“My name is Jimin, ma’am. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”

You don’t listen and turn around towards her:

“He... wanted me to adopt this guy?”

“That’s not a ‘guy’, ma’am, it’s Jimin, or subject JM13, a robot. Your ex-husband had been working on it for five years until now,” the notary continues, finally making himself noticed.

Five years? That means he was already working on it during the last years of your marriage. Weird.

“He was planning on selling the design to a company for the massive production of, er, sex androids.” Mrs Im’s voice goes meeker and softer as she speaks, perhaps ashamed of her words. Honestly? Same. Fucking sickhead. You stare at the so-called Jimin in disbelief. “However” – you look up back at her when she continues – “he seemed to change his mind at some point and decided to keep it and make you its guardian if something ever happened to him.”

“And what am I supposed to do with a... sex robot, if I may know?”

Mrs Im walks up to the big table in the centre of the room and picks up a bunch of papers just to read them leisurely. Then she puts them back on the surface and sighs.

“Can I be honest with you, ma’am?” You nod, though a bit hesitant. “Just take it. Sell it off if you want, there wasn’t anything that forbids you on the will. Or keep it; it can clean, cook, and fuck your brains out if you want. Do whatever you want, I just wanna be over with this case already. Your psycho ex has been giving me a headache ever since you sued him after your divorce.”

You need a couple of seconds to process it all, but you quickly come to the conclusion that she’s just as tired of this business as you. And maybe a hand or two at home won’t be so bad after all.

But it’s so spooky – he looks just like a person.

“So, its name is Jimin?” you ask as you walk up to the standing figure in front of you. You don’t need to tilt your head to look at him.

“So it seems.”

“I guess you’re coming home with me, Jimin. I just hope these two know how you work,” you say then, glancing at them.

“I’ll be happy to help, ma’am.” Jimin’s voice is probably the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard; it slithers into your mushy brain and pools on your tongue with the craving of saying his name out loud yourself – Jimin. “Thank you for keeping me. I will do anything I can to be of assistance to you.”

“I’m sure you will... Come on, let’s go home. By the way, don’t you come with instructions or something?”

Jimin laughs boyishly. “I’m automated, ma’am.”

“Well, there is one thing that you might want to know, though...” The woman butts in with the papers in her hand and reads, “If it ever puts you in danger and ignores direct instructions, you can always press the small switch behind his left ear. It will proceed with the complete shutdown of its system until you decide to turn it on again. In case you are being immobilised, just say out loud its name along with ‘shutdown’ and it will turn itself off.”

As soon as they’ve handed you some clothes for him and given you the little instructions Jimin needs to function, you find yourself closing the door of the side of the car where he’s sitting right now before you head to the driver's seat.

It’s true that you don’t trust this thing in the slightest, especially knowing who created it. But you’re determined to find out what has your ex-husband planned for you and why he decided he wanted you to keep Jimin out of all the people he knew. Maybe he’s not dead and is watching you right now through a peephole in the android’s eyes? Maybe he’s not done making your life miserable yet.

“Ma’am—!”

Jimin takes the wheel in time before your car takes a turn, neglected during the short but strong while you’ve been sulking in your thoughts.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asks you then, looking at you with concern as you take over the wheel again. “Would you rather I drove instead?”

“No, it’s... It’s okay, Jimin, thank you.”

“Your heart is beating fast, ma’am. Am I making you uneasy?”

You roll your eyes with a shameful sigh. “Uh, maybe a little. But it’s not your fault— you just have a creator with kind of a nasty name.”

“You used to sleep with my Master, I know.”

“Yeah... I mean,” you blurt out, now a bit bashful, “we were married. It was a bit more serious than just sleeping together – unfortunately.”

But then you realise— how on earth does this robot know who you are?

“Did he talk about me?”

“He talked about you quite often.”

You take a breath. “And what would he say?”

“My Master... wanted me to know how much he loved you,” Jimin says half-heartedly.

So, he just built himself a friend. One that couldn’t run away from him – pathetic. But Jimin doesn’t seem too fond of him, so you relish in the idea that your ex couldn’t even keep his handmade friends.

“He didn’t love me,” you spit out. “That nasty thing wasn’t love.”

It’s pretty much pointless to try and explain what love is to a robot, so you just tighten your grip on the wheel. For the rest of the ride, you stay in complete silence, and Jimin respects that you don’t want to talk.

“Uh, I guess you won’t need a bedroom? Or do you?”

Jimin takes a look around, inspecting the entrance hall of your house. “It’s better for my hardware to rest on a bed when I’m on standby, ma’am.”

“And... when do you switch to stand-by?”

“Once you go to bed,” he replies with a smile. “But I react to loud noises and turn back on in case there’s an emergency.”

Oh, so you get a full-time bodyguard in the package too. Cool – you guess.

“In that case, you can have the guest room. My room is upstairs— well, I’ll show you around now. Follow me.” Naturally, Jimin does as told and walks behind you as you guide him through the rest of the house. “My office is at the end of the corridor. I need to focus when I’m working, so please, don’t make too much of a fuss if you’re around this part of the house.”

“May I know what’s your profession?” Jimin asks on his way back to the kitchen.

“I’m... I draw comics,” you murmur. “It’s a pretty boring job since I started working for a publishing company, but the pay is really good— and I work at home a lot, so I’d also prefer if you didn’t disturb me when I’m in there unless there’s an emergency.”

You go to grab the kettle to make yourself some tea, but he gently takes it from your hand and beckons you to take a seat instead.

“Please allow me, ma’am.”

Pulling your hands away, you let him take charge of your tea and sit down. It’s oddly nice, but there’s a little voice in your head nagging you for taking advantage of a robot. As if that’s even possible. However, the voice slowly fades as Jimin prepares your tea, your eyes fixed on the way the muscles of his back bulge and tense under the flimsy fabric.

Well, your ex-husband did a pretty decent job with this one.

“There you go, ma’am. Would you like some cream with it?” he asks again with that angelic voice of his. You just shake your head. “What would you like me to do now?”

“Oh, nothing, really.” You fidget on your spot, awkwardly taking the teacup between your fingers.

“Please— I want to be of service.”

At his insistence, you nod weakly. “Well, I guess the kitchen could use some maintenance... And I think the microwave is broken. Can you... do something about that?”

Jimin nods fervently and, after asking you where can he find the tools, he gets on with the job. You can just watch him in awe as he dusts the windows, fixes your microwave, and puts a pair of flowers that apparently had been in your dining hall all this morning in a China vase. Again, you’re too perplexed to regret your decision.

Somewhere after dinner – which clearly was made by Jimin and was basically the best bite you’ve had in a while – your doorbell rings in the middle of the house’s pre-slumber silence.

You rush to the door before he can do anything. “I’ll go, you stay here.”

When you reach the entrance hall and open the door, you see Taehyung standing in front of the gate, checking impatiently the watch on his wrist.

“Y/N! What’s wrong with you?” he whines through the intercom. “Open up! Didn’t you get my texts?”

God, you’ve just realised that you’ve been so busy with the funeral, the will, and handling this peculiar new inhabitant in your house that you haven’t checked your personal phone since lunch.

“Sorry—”

“Hey, I was mad worried,” he mutters, coming in without needing to be invited. “How did it go? What did the notary say? Did the psycho leave you—?”

Judging by your friend’s sudden silence, you figure he’s just noticed the new face standing in the middle of the hall. Taehyung’s grimace turns from shock to confusion, and from confusion to some kind of sly understanding.

“Sorry,” he chirps, “didn’t know you had company. I can come back later if you want.”

“Actually— I think you should know this.”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows and offers Jimin his hand for a shake. “Really? Ah, I’m Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you. Wow, your hands are so soft! What lotion do you use?”

“Listen, this is what my ex left for me in his will. His name is Jimin.”

“This? You mean... that he’s his adopted child or something?” your friend retorts with a grimace. “Or a protégé?”

“No, he’s a robot.”

But he just lets out a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”

“God, I’m being serious— Jimin, can you show him?” The android obediently turns around and lifts his shirt, revealing a plug that sinks all the way into his lower back. “See? I know it looks like a fucking joke because I’m still trying to process it all – but he is.”

Switching his eyes from him to you, Taehyung finally grabs your arm and, excusing the two of you, pushes you into the kitchen before closing the door. “Are you nuts? So, they told you your psychotic ex-husband built a robot that you could take as a housekeeper and you fucking brought it in? What is wrong with you—!”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you cut him off. “I know there’s something fishy about this. But I want to find out what.”

“If this is about—”

“Of course it is,” you cry out then and bury your face in your hands.

You need to know – you need to know if he was to blame after all or if you actually became a paranoid who dumped her innocent husband and convinced everyone that he was crazy. You need to know if you just pushed him into such a miserable and unjust fate that he had to end his life.

And perhaps Jimin has the answer.

“Whatever, I’ll keep an eye out on him. Just one creepy thing, Y/N,” Taehyung grunts as he opens the kitchen door to walk out. “One creepy thing and he’s a dead robot.”

You roll your eyes with a half-hearted grin and follow him back into the living room.

Jimin looks up from the floor. “I... I understand that my Master did bad things to you, ma’am— but I swear I’d never hurt you. I’d rather die myself.”

You decide not to answer or react to his puppy eyes. Then your friend claims to be too busy to stay – although he does make you promise that you’ll call him if anything happens – and you see him off with the shadow of Jimin standing behind you.

“Dude, it’s so fucking realistic,” Taehyung grunts before getting in his car.

Once the two of you are alone in the house again, you tell him that you’re going to take a bath to wash away every single ounce of stress from today. He nods with a smile and watches you enter the bathroom; it’s modern and large, your silhouette reflecting weakly on the black and white tiles. A spacious bathtub rests in the middle of the room.

You sit on the marble edge as you watch the steamy water fill up the tub.

When there’s enough water and the ceiling of the room is cloudy with steam, you take off your clothes, drop them onto the floor, and finally, sit down. Just that makes you let out a groan of pleasure, the feeling of the hot water licking on your limbs washing all your worries away.

You’ve always thought that there’s something oddly erotic in bathing – whether it’s just the freedom of being naked in the tub or all the possible ways one can be served and tended to.

After you wrinkle like a raisin, you decide it’s time to come out and get on with your evening; still a bit dizzy from the illegally amazing bath, you stand up to hop out of the tub, with the misfortune of slipping on some pool of water on the floor.

You fall on your backside, twisting your arm in the way.

“Oh, fuck! Shit!”

Somehow you manage to get up and pick up the remaining pieces of your dignity. Still, there’s a throbbing pain in your arm that means you most probably should have it checked.

And, of course, Jimin suddenly bursts in without knocking. “Ma’am? Are you all right—?”

His eyes immediately slide down your figure, fixing on your breasts, and you cover yourself up as an instinct.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” you grunt, ignoring the pulsing pain. “I, uh, slipped and fell. But I’m okay, don’t worry. Could make it out alive...” God, what on earth are you doing? You don’t have to cover up for him, he’s just a pile of circuits and microchips. “I’m fine.”

Slowly – tauntingly almost – you move your hands away from your breasts, feeling a tingle in the pit of your stomach when they softly move forward. You also uncover your crotch, and you’ve never felt so deliciously bare before. Jimin’s eyes flicker down to your perked nipples, he drinks up the sight of your figure for a slight second before he pulls himself back together and holds the towel out for you.

“Can you lift your arm, ma’am?”

You sigh. “No, it hurts too much,” you grunt then as you spin it. Great, now you’ll have to drop by the hospital to check if you broke anything. “I, uh— I need the towel.”

“Allow me.”

After staring into his eyes with defiance for five exhausting seconds, you raise your arms a bit, enough so it won’t hurt, so that Jimin can dry you.

Like the touch of a feather, he runs the towel against the skin of your shoulders first. Delicate, the cotton hugs you, it brushes you softly. Soon, he’s done with your arms and moves down to your breasts. It almost feels like his breath hitches at the contact of your mounds, LED-lit irises fixing on your nipples. If you were a bit more insane, you’d swear there’s some sort of sexual tension between the two of you.

But, of course, you’re not that insane yet.

Jimin was made to resemble a human— and he does, almost perfectly. A fairly good looking one on top of that. So, it’s normal that your realities are mixed up. Your coochie doesn’t know his robocock is made of microchips.

You have to stop yourself from thinking any further about Jimin’s cock. It won’t do you any good.

The contact of his fingers with your nipples, though separated by the towel, sends a shiver down your spine, and you shift in front of him.

Jimin does a very meticulous job as he kneads your breasts and brushes the fabric against them, eyes never leaving the view. For a second he sticks out his tongue, but it seems that – for some reason – he was just wetting his lips.

Then he drops to his knees, and it catches you off guard. Your core pulses at the unfathomable thought of having his tongue lapping at your wet folds, but you’re quick to hush them away.

“I should take you to a hospital, ma’am,” Jimin says softly, eyes looking up at you from between your legs. You can swear his breath feels hot. “Maybe you hurt your arm seriously.”

It’ll be a complete mess if you have, honestly. You need to hand in the sketches of your new work in a couple of weeks. A work that doesn’t even have a plot yet if you may add. So, obviously, you just can’t afford more delays.

Jimin finishes worshipping your legs dry after he asks you to sit down; you actually give it a thought at some point – you could tell him to bend down and eat you out until you’ve soaked his face and no one would be there to judge you. You could tell him to lie on the floor and let you ride his automatic cock until his stupid circuits break down. Not that you wouldn’t absolutely love it.

What a pity you’re too sane to do it.

Jimin shifts uncomfortably between your legs, eyes wandering and roaming around like crazy, before he gets up— and you swear, you swear there’s a slight tent in his crotch. You swear you saw it just now. Is that normal? Is it some kind of reaction programmed into his automatised body or something?

“Okay, let me just get ready and we’ll head out—” You turn around, realising something. “Damn it... Ugh, I forgot I brought the hamper down to the kitchen to do the laundry... Mind dumping it for me? I still have to dry my hair.”

Obviously, he nods with a gentle smile, but his eyes shift to red when he finally has your underwear in his hand; you decide not to give it much importance, though.

Since you asked him to look into your room in case there were any other dirty clothes lying around, Jimin turns the doorknob and slithers in like a shadow. It’s the first time he’s in your room – and the smell is mind-blowing; everything is imprinted with your fragrance, everything has been touched by you, everything has your essence all over it. Oh, he wanted to meet you so bad.

Not as reluctantly as he should, he can’t help pressing your underwear against his nose. It too smells like you.

You were so close just now, your warmth, your wet heat standing right in front of him. It makes something tickle within all his cables and microchips, makes him need and desire you in a way that he’s never felt before. Nothing could’ve ever prepared Jimin for the feeling of finally having you in front of him.

This smell that overwhelms each of his sensors, the fragrance of your skin that he got to learn so well, your luscious lips moving as you’d talk to him, your hands, so soft— you had invaded every single corner of memory he had prepared for when Jimin finally got to meet you in the flesh.

Now, he knows it’s wrong. He knows that giving in to his desire for you is not part of his plan. But God, how can he resist the urge, the yearning?

With a swinging movement, Jimin cups his hardening crotch; the contact is slight, but it’s enough to make him sigh and close his eyes to project images of those sweet memories. He pictures you lying on the mattress as he takes out his cock – with your legs parted and hooked around his head as he dips his tongue into your dripping slit. He wraps his wet muscle around your clit and sucks, making you clench around nothing, making you want him. A whimper escapes from your parted lips, it feels too good not to make a sound. Jimin laps at your folds deeper, wants you to remember the feeling of his tongue against your cunt forever.

The sensors in his cock thrill as he humps his hand, your panties shoved into his mouth.

It’s like a vine creeping up his throat and wrapping around it, would leave him breathless. His system wasn’t ready for this ecstatic craving, he needs to buck his hips faster and squeeze the sensitive tip.

He takes out his cock, craving more. Now fucking into your underwear, his cock slides between the folds, and Jimin comes with a pitiful mewl a second later. His artificial cum soils the already damp fabric with the frustrating, half-hearted feeling that it’s your pussy he’s filling up.

It spurts on his fingers too, so Jimin licks them clean before standing up to throw the panties into the washing machine for once and for all. Excitement bubbles up inside of him.

He was made for loving you, after all.

There are only two things that comfort you right now.

The first one is that, even though you hurt your left wrist, you need only the right one to draw. The second is that Jimin the android is here to do literally everything you want.

From taking out the garbage to cooking to massaging your feet or fixing the wobbly leg of your drawing table, he’s always ecstatic to help. For real, it almost feels as if you’re the one doing him a favour when you let him make your bed. It only gets weird when you need his assistance to do things like getting dressed or taking a bath, but Jimin is a robot, after all; it’s all in your touch-deprived head.

“Yeah, I see what you mean... But I can’t really change that, it’d create a plot hole; there’s a scene in the seventh chapter...”

Right now you’re having an online meeting with your editor, discussing the work you’ve been crushing your head off for. It’s six in the morning, you’re gonna need a whole lot more coffee to get through the rest of the day— and yet there she is, breaking you down like a truck. She’s not one for giving you any slack.

“A plot hole?” she repeats in disbelief. “You’d need a plot for that in the first place.” You let out a sigh. “Look, I’m sure these past few days have taken a toll on you, Y/N, but we need you to come up with something. The agency’s patience has a limit. You could try to spice things up a bit? Work on something more mature—? Maybe this is all just an artistic block.”

You frown, sipping your coffee. “Uh, mature? Meaning?”

“I’m not saying you go write a BDSM meaningless bestseller or anything, but... something mature readers could be interested in. Maybe you’ve just grown out of YA adventures for the time being.”

“Are you asking me to draw porn?” you retort with a snort. “That’s low. You know I like light-hearted stories. Besides, what could I write about? All I’d come up with would be raunchy stuff.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Well, boyfriend, partner, fling— whatever.” Tilting your head, you wonder what the hell is she talking about, but then you notice Jimin’s back on your screen as he makes you another coffee. “Can he hear me—? You know, sexual themes can be very profound too.”

As deep as you’d like to, you think to yourself. But you don’t wanna picture Jimin in any kind of story that is in any way related to ‘more mature stuff’, so you just shake your head. That’s enough nonsense for a meeting at six in the morning.

Because well, ‘lonely girl starts living with a sex robot and eventually goes on having kinky sex with it’ sounds lame as fuck. And pathetic. It’s pretty humiliating already to realise you’re in that picture right now, at this stage of your life, in this economy.

“Well, I better get going— I have a meeting in half an hour. We’ll talk later.”

And, beep— the screen goes black, she’s gone.

“Your coffee, ma’am.” Jimin’s gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts; he’s eyeing you intensely as he puts the mug down on the counter, almost as if he’s trying to get something out of you.

“Thanks. Can you pass me the honey—? Don’t bother, I can do it myself.”

Bitch, as if.

As soon as you take the spoon of out the jar, a jolt of pain pierces through your bad arm, and it slips off your fingers. Now they’re sticky with honey and you’ve made a fool of yourself. What a great way to start your already awful morning.

“I—”

Jimin takes your hand, not too roughly as to come off as rude, but rightly enough for you to suspect there’s something going on with him.

His stare is intense, red LED-lit rings piercing through yours in search of something, some reaction, some form of permission. The honey drops down your digits as a warning, now or never. Your heart beats painfully fast in your chest, threatening to burst right through your ribcage and onto his lap.

“Lick it clean,” you rasp. “All of it.”

Like your words are magic, Jimin rushes to part his lips so that you can put your fingers into his mouth. Funnily enough, it’s hot and wet, and you almost think you’ve heard him whimper.

Your core pulses, suddenly empty and craving something to clench around. As he keeps lapping at your digits oh-so thoroughly, you have to rub your thighs together, you hope he won’t notice. Could he, though? Can Jimin understand that he’s turning you the fuck on?

And then it sinks in.

Of course it feels hot and makes you tingle. Of course he acts like this— that is the sole purpose of his existence, to desire whomever he’s programmed to. He’s a robot, a machine. He follows cryptic orders.

But then again, as his tongue swirls around your fingers and he sucks the honey off them, you can’t help feeling the urge to bend him down on the table and ride his cock. Even if that’s pretty much the point, the craving you’re feeling comes off as terribly sad. After all, you just want to part your legs and order him to fill up this emptiness he’s provoked in you.

With a rather jerky move, you pull your fingers out of Jimin’s mouth, and he licks his lips immediately, sultry eyes looking up at you.

“T-that’s enough, you can stop,” you groan.

He gets up with a weak nod, perhaps waiting for you to ask for more, to order him to touch you, to kiss you, to pleasure you— but those words never come out of your mouth, and you get up quietly with your coffee in your hand.

“I’ll be… working in my studio,” you murmur. “Don’t disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You call Yoongi as soon as – you think – you’re out of his hearing range. Not that he’s not a high-tech android perfectly equipped to eavesdrop on your conversation – you doubt he even has to eavesdrop, could perfectly well just be standing in a room on the other side of the house and still able to hear your every word.

He says he’ll show up in maybe half an hour, and you get the chance to work a bit on one of your drafts, although to no avail because your brain is dry, and ask Jimin if he can bring up some more coffee. By the time you’re done, he comes into the room with Yoongi walking behind him.

“How’s your wrist?” he asks while Jimin pours the required sugar, and you hold out your hand. Maybe you’re going crazy, but he’s so indifferent to your conversation that it totally looks like he’s eavesdropping. “Looks much better.”

You nod and glance at the android. “That will be all, thank you,” you murmur.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jimin leaves the two coffees on your table and leaves with a smile.

“Jesus, it’s like having, uh, well— it’s a fucking robot in your house,” he muses. “Are you sure this is still a good idea? Keeping an artificial intelligence made by your looney husband at home.”

You cock an eyebrow. “It was never a good idea, especially when you put it like that.”

“But…?”

There is always a ‘but’ with you, though.

“But maybe Jimin is my only way to find out if… he really did all those things,” you finish with a weak voice.

Threatening your co-workers, blackmailing your boss to get you to work from home more often, keeping your family away from you with lies and ploys. To know that his sobs and pleas were all lies, his way to guilt-trip you into forgiveness. His way into your head and heart, to mess with it, churn and mould it into one of his experiments. To him, you probably were never anything but that – another one of his wicked creations.

Maybe it’s stupid and pathetic that you’re grasping at straws to redeem and excuse him.

When the silence weighs in, Yoongi turns around to take his phone out of his jacket, almost knocking his coffee over. You gasp and get up to save the precious mug from a fatal fall that would have totally crashed it into pieces and immediately sneer at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“Be careful!” you cry out. “It’s my favourite mug.”

Yoongi frowns, taking the piece to inspect it with a judging look. “This? It’s literally the tackiest, ugliest mug I’ve ever seen.”

He’s probably referring to the awful pink glitter and the even shinier ‘there’s a chance this is vodka’ written on it. Of course, it’s never vodka, but it sounded so funny it made you chuckle when you walked past the shop during a promenade with your husband. You told him about it after coming home, and even though he didn’t seem too interested, he was listening since you found it lying on the kitchen counter the next morning.

Your husband never mentioned it again, or ever for that matter. It’s one of those little gestures that fill you up with guilt and remorse.

In some way, he did care about you. At least at some point in your relationship.

“Anyways,” Yoongi murmurs then, moving the mug to the centre of the table for its own sake, “it’s up to you. Just make sure to keep an eye on it, and if you notice something weird going on, don’t just think ‘it’s a coincidence, okay?”

Not that you’d ever think that, would you? You consider yourself pretty aware of the risks you’re taking; you just consider them worth it if it means you’ll discover some of the truth.

And then Yoongi frowns, staring at you. “But— why do I have the feeling you weren’t panicking because of that?”

“Okay…” You look down, into the dark liquid in your mug, as you muster the courage and get rid of the embarrassment. “So, let’s say I started to— let’s say I started to, hm, find Jimin too attractive for my own good?” Your voice turns into a whisper, afraid he’ll hear you – that’s literally the last thing you’d want him to know. “Like, seductive.”

“I’m not really surprised. I mean, isn’t Jimin a sex robot? I guess that’s what it was made for, so that just means it works,” he says instead, shrugging his shoulders.

“But then, uh, should I give in?”

You’ve come to the conclusion that, regardless of how you try to act, Jimin is going to turn you on.

Maybe he’s just too good at this, maybe you’re in need of a good fuck, or maybe you are in fact a pervert who finds the fact that he’s a robot a huge turn-on. Whatever it is, you can’t really go on living like this and pretending he’s just a friend who lives and hangs with you.

Jimin’s making dinner right now, a casserole to warm you up despite summer being around the corner. With his back turned to you, you see from your spot on the couch how his shoulders flex and contract as he moves around the kitchen. He stirs the stew and brings the ladle to his lips to check the flavour, groaning in approval.

But some of the stew splashes out and stains his hand, so he turns around to fetch a cloth. Seeing there’s nothing around, he then brings his hand up to his lips to lick it clean. His plump lips move against the skin, tongue flickering. It almost looks like he’s kissing it, and your core tingles.

Work. Yes, you need to focus and work on something productive.

Whenever he’s in your field of vision, you feel the stupid urge to touch him, kiss him, wonder how it would feel if you’d let him touch you at least once. The possibility is so real, just one word, that they terrify you.

Dinner is ready not long after, and the two of you eat in silence. It’s weird that Jimin eats at all, but he’s told you that it’s for the sake of his performance, to make things more natural; it’d be off-putting to just have a human-looking robot standing in front of you and watching you eat for a whole meal, and he’s right.

You have no idea how he eats and digests, though; there’s still so much you don’t know about him yet.

The way he’d put the chopsticks in his mouth, how he’d lick the spoon clean, the eye contact as he’d recreate such human gestures for your pleasure. It all was literally on purpose.

By the time you’re done eating, Jimin is already starting to clear the table. You thank him for making such a delicious dinner and get up to get some work done. Honestly, you need to be alone more than anything; alone to process how fucking turned on you are right now.

“Hell…” You close the door of your studio behind your back and let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s at least get on with the drafts.”

Draft, my ass. It’s barely a bunch of sketches and some oddly timed strips without any plot. You really can’t hand this over to your editor if you want to keep your artistic dignity, but all you can think of are Jimin’s luscious lips, Jimin’s slim body, Jimin’s thighs, Jimin’s voice, Jimin’s smile, Jimin’s eyes shutting tight when he smiles at you. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. You’re a pathetic little thing who’s losing it for the resemblance of a man.

But why does it arouse you at the same time? Why do you get wet when you think about how lewd and low you’re acting? You tell yourself it’s ridiculous, but you’re dying for him to just kneel before your spread legs and eat you out.

Your hand moves on its own, your brain still wandering mindlessly around unlikely situations.

Breasts, thighs, lips, neck, the curve of a lower back sitting down, whispers, soft chuckles filled with secrecy, intimacy in the palm of a hand, kisses down the shoulder, hands venturing to touch and stroke and imprint its marks of adoration on the skin of a loved one.

When you come back, you notice they resemble you and Jimin; this is what you’ve been suppressing for weeks. Craving and longing for his touch.

Maybe this is the perfect way to unwind your frustration. You can let your imagination go wild, reflect on this confusing situation on paper, let it unravel and rebel before your eyes. After all, true artistry comes from honesty, doesn’t it? Aren’t all artists obsessed with their muses in some way? You’ll let Jimin pester your dreams for a bit longer.

You draw some sketches, key settings that you’ll use to close the plot later – if there will be a plot in the first place, of course. That doesn’t have to be entirely bad. Steamy scenes and a playful tug-of-war between guilt, obsession, and pure lust sounds good too.

The way Jimin licked your fingers clean, you know he eats pussy like a champ. He’d be so good, slurping and desperate and thirsty for your juices. Maybe a bit unhinged, hands gripping your thighs because he needs to shove his face in between.

There must be a range of stimulation to set his arousal off, right? Like, there must be things that turn him on, and maybe even a level to get him overwhelmed.

Picturing it your head gets too real when you rub your thighs together, stifling a groan. You need him to touch you, but you need to touch yourself for that matter. Sneaking a hand beneath your pyjama shorts and underwear, you stroke up and down your folds, smearing your wetness before you sink your fingers into yourself.

Legs folded and heels steady on the chair, you swing your hips and help to start working yourself open. It doesn’t feel half as good as you know Jimin’s cock would, but you can only picture him kneeled down and fingering you with his eyes glued to your reactions.

“Fuck— ah, s-shit, so good…” you moan.

Your other hand sneaks beneath your shirt to play with your nipple. Arching your back into your touch, it all gets faster, messier, impatient.

When your thumb comes to rub your clit, it feels harder to keep quiet. Fuck, you really want to have sex. With Jimin, only with him. You want to fuck him against this drawing table until you’ve creamed his cock, see your ex-husband’s talents recreating human pleasure.

With your mouth forming an O and your breast gripped in your hand, you come around your fingers, perhaps making more noise than you should.

As you come down from your high, you stare at the lewd results of your lust: two figures writhing and tangled around each other, bodies seen through the gaze of desire, warm loneliness mixed with the boiling fear of vulnerability. Jimin would never judge this, you realise. He can’t. He was made for loving you – or anyone – to an obsessing point, right now you’re his only one. You’ve fulfilled him.

Pretending nothing happened, you put the draft in a folder and keep the steamier ones in one of your drawers – maybe you’ll show them to your editor someday. Then you go to bed, luckily not running into Jimin.

The next morning, he’s making breakfast by the time you come down, hair done and confident in your outfit. But you overslept today, so you’re in such a hurry that you can only apologise for skipping such a lovely meal, and you run to get in your car. It makes him want to pout, but he’s better than that.

Jimin likes to tidy up around the house when you’re not home. He always feels like an inconvenience when it’s time to clean the room you’re in, so he always makes sure to schedule the cleaning around your activities. His bedroom first, always, and then the kitchen. Then he’ll sort it out through the day.

The food he made this morning goes into the fridge, knowing you’ll pounce it as soon as you’re back. The coffee, however, goes down the drain since it’s pointless to keep it. He’ll make you another one, he’ll make you as many coffees as you want.

One mug, two mugs, three, four, five, s— where your mug? Your favourite one, that is. It’s not with the others, and it’s not in the pile of dirty dishes either. Maybe you had a coffee last night and forgot it somewhere?

After looking in the living room, your bedroom, and the terrace, Jimin makes his way down the corridor.

The door to your studio always feels intriguing and threatening; you’ve never exactly forbidden him from going in, but it’s your den, your personal hideout. It feels like he’s intruding.

As always, the first thing Jimin notices as he walks in is the everlasting chaos lingering in the place. You never bother to tidy up after yourself as you work, and he gets so few chances to work on it that it’s almost always like this; his instincts scream that he gets down to business.

First, the mug.

Yes, he’ll fetch your mug and come back once he’s done with the kitchen.

Jimin catches the scent of coffee floating somewhere in the room, but there’s something else too, a heavier, sweeter smell that grabs his whole attention.

And then it downs on him – that it’s the scent of your arousal. You’ve touched yourself here.

Shaking his head, though, he pushes the thought to the back of his mind and decides that he’ll deal with that later. Now he needs to get on with his chores so that everything will be ready by the time you’re back home.

He finds the missing mug on one of the side tables, but the mess is too icky, he can’t help the urge to clean up a bit around the place, it’s almost an instinct in him. Just clearing the tables and opening the windows, and maybe sweeping the floor, that’s it. The bare minimum to keep a well-balanced level of hygiene.

After working on the side tables and tidying up the cupboard, Jimin moves on to your sketching table.

There are so many paper sheets and drawings scattered, even on the floor, messily pinned to the surface, marks of pencil and eraser crumbs all over the table. He squats to pick them up, dodging the half-opened drawer. He should close it before you hurt yourself.

When Jimin grabs the handle, the view of a naked figure catches his eyes. The natural need to know more, more of you, more of your desires – it all makes him open it completely and grab the paper.

The sketches are too little connected to each other to make any plot out of it, but the female character resembles you.

And the male looks just like him.

There’s this scene where she asks him to take off his shirt and sees the plug on his lower back, exactly where Jimin’s is. Just like him, he’s a robot. The sexual tension between the two of them is palpable. Is this what you feel about him? Tense and guilty and teetering on the edge every time you look at him?

Until he checks the next paper and sees that this one is longer. In fact, the scene takes more than five pages, far more than the other unconnected short scenes.

It all starts with her going to bed, probably picking up after a stressful moment. She’s wearing nothing but a flimsy tee and panties, the focus on the shape of her breasts too delicious and obvious to ignore. Yours bounce like that too, so naturally.

The android opens the door and stands in the middle of the dark. Somehow, it doesn’t feel creepy, just— anxious. He can read the mixed feelings in his stare, the same guilt consuming her.

He probably just walks up to her resting body to admire her, maybe smell her scent. A speech balloon pops up, he’s thinking about how he knows she wants to be pleased, how her boyfriend left her wanting this evening after parting ways. He doesn’t touch her like he could, too lazy, too stupid, too clumsy.

His Master was the same – obsessed with you but for all the wrong reasons. A projection of his hurt human ego and the urge to control you because everything else was out of his reach.

The male character now starts to nuzzle her neck, take in her fragrance. Playful hands sneaking under the clothes, she sighs and turns around, splayed on the bed for him. He immediately cups one of her breasts and takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking with hunger.

She locates the pleasure in her dreams and remains asleep, much to his frustration.

His hands roam down her waist and hips, worshipping her tender flesh and naked thighs. With a trail of peppered kisses down her stomach, he ends up crouched between her legs, tongue hanging out before he licks down her clothed folds. She groans, almost waking up, and it doesn’t take too long of having her cunt lapped at for her to do it.

What— what are you doing?

Let me please you, Master. I beg you. I know how wet you are, I could touch you in ways he never could. I’m a servant to your pleasure.

Jimin automatically drops the papers to shove them back into the drawer. Your scent is still heavy in the sensors of his nose, and the memory of your arousal against his tongue has not gone away – and never will.

And now he knows you want him as much as he wants you.

His system reacts instantly, the idea of you desiring him activating every mechanism as his body warms up and his cock starts getting hard. Buried in your cunt, swallowed by your pretty lips, pumped between your fingers; there are so many things he wants you to do with him. And the things he’d do to see your face scrunched in pleasure, gasps and groans coming out of your pretty lips; the possibilities feel so real now, he can almost touch this new reality.

“Oh—”

The fake flesh twitches when Jimin sneaks his hand under his underwear and wraps it around his cock. It’s leaking so much already, his Master built him well.

Paced and quiet at the beginning, he soon starts to buck his hips into his first, the friction never enough. Jimin pictures it’s you he’s fucking, that you let him sneak into your bed, wishing for him to touch you and lap at your folds until you’re coming. He doesn’t know yet how his sensors will react to the warmth of an actual person, but he knows yours will be heavenly.

Filling you up, peppering kisses all over your skin while you stroke his head and praise him for being so good – it will all be just as promised, the greatest fulfilment of his existence. You want Jimin to do it, and he’s dying to oblige.

“Ngh— f-fuck,” he gasps. “Ma’am, Y/N, fuck, fuck…”

You’re so beautiful, breasts full and fleshy, hardened peaks when it’s cold. He’d worship your hips and waist, nature made human, finding completion in the welcoming embrace of your legs around his hips. His cum would leak out and drip down your thighs, he could fuck you again and again until you’re satisfied, until you’re content with him.

His hand is now moving at a speed that will soon bring him to climax. With the other resting on the table, Jimin pumps his cock, millions of images in his system.

The dirty sketches in the half-opened drawer stare back at him.

“Oh fuck, there, m-ma’am,” Jimin whimpers and squeezes the tip, “fucking Christ—!”

White, creamy cum spurts out and lands on the table, on his tummy. Some of it even ends up splattered on the floor. Once is enough, he thinks as he forces his hand to stop, riding out his orgasm.

His greedy sensors begin to relax at the lack of stimulation, and Jimin tucks his cock back into his pants so that he can clean up his mess. He came to tidy up and ended up making it all dirtier – what would you think? Would you punish him? It was a mess, after all; dirty, messy, naughty.

But you want him. And you want him now.

“To be honest, Y/N, I wasn’t completely sure you’d even show up, but this is… This is brilliant! Hot, mature, dark, defiant—”

You glow at your editor’s praise, ignoring Yoongi’s judging look. Unlike her, he does know that there is an actual android living in your house whom you find particularly hot. But he’s not going to say anything, not when one of your projects has finally got her approval.

“I’m gonna keep this and hand it to my chief, okay?” she says with a smile.

You shrug. “Sure… I, uh, drew some steamier stuff, but I didn’t bring it here since I didn’t know how you’d react,” you say then, bringing the mug to your lips but noticing it’s empty already.

“Oh! I’ll talk it out with the publisher and give you a heads-up, how does that sound?” your editor continues. “It all depends on the level of explicit content they’ll want to keep for the work, but honestly, it sounds hot as fuck, so I’m sure you’ll be able to explore the topic wholeheartedly. Now—! Take the rest of the day off and go home, get a latte, take a bubble bath, whatever.”

She then grabs her stuff and storms off her office, claiming to have dozens of meetings and things to do. Which is probably true.

“I really can’t believe it – oh, you’re such a whore.”

“Hey!” you groan. “You were the one who told me that I should just… give in.”

“So, did you?” Yoongi asks, collecting the empty mugs and fetching all the papers her boss left behind herself.

“Not with him, but yeah, kinda. I mean, I found some ways to unwind,” you simply reply and help him clean up. “I’ve decided that this new outburst of ideas is too precious to waste.”

Instead of nodding or something, Yoongi just scoffs at you. As if that was the reason. But it’s helping you get over your artistic block, which is good for his job too, so he’s not going to complain too much. Besides, you look more at peace, and that is pretty much all that matters.

It’s almost lunchtime. You decide to call Taehyung, and the three of you meet at a nearby restaurant to have a bite together.

While you are an author and Yoongi is an Assistant Editor, Taehyung is part of the creative team. He designs covers and similar stuff for novels, helps you come up with colour schemes and pallets, and really is overall the eye everyone needs to make things shine their brightest. You met him and Yoongi long before you met your husband, and they’ve been with you ever since.

“The weather is so fine lately!” the youngest exclaims. “Why don’t you throw a barbeque?”

“At my place?”

Taehyung nods and looks at Yoongi for support. “Yeah, why not? Just make the robot do it.” You frown immediately at his words. “What is it now?”

“The android has a name, you know,” you reply.

“And why would that matter? It’s a robot, just a pile of circuits and microchips,” he mumbles, too shocked at your offence. “Even if it looks like a human, it doesn’t make it one, Y/N.”

You don’t know why, really, but it infuriates you to hear him talk about Jimin like that. Maybe you’ve gone a bit too far humanising him— it. Humanising it. But it feels so real when you look at… his eyes, his smile, his lips, his button nose. Something crafted with beautiful skill.

While your husband had made you a monster, he had made Jimin to be a piece of art.

Then, how could you not be angry at Taehyung’s shallow, hurtful words? Whatever love and sorrow were created with, Jimin and you were made from it.

“We all have our coping mechanisms, don’t we?” you finally say, shrugging. Yoongi chuckles next to you. “I don’t see why I can’t live a lie like that until it blows up in my face. Maybe you remember I’ve lusted after way worse men.”

Men, that’s the thing – Jimin is not a man.

Taehyung frowns. “Uh, I thought you originally wanted to pry secrets out of it about your ex.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I think— you’re mixing things up,” he sighs then as he starts playing with his fingers. “Maybe you should get back in touch with your therapist and discuss it with her? – you’re not going to listen to me anyway.”

You decide not to dwell on the subject any further; you want some peace of mind for when you come home to Jimin. He’s always such an expert when it comes to your gestures, can pick up any mood swing in an instant. It was scary at first, but now you’ve come to feel astonishingly natural about it. Maybe you even find it soothing.

It’s past ten when you get home. Not too drunk, maybe a little tipsy. At most – you swear.

Tiptoeing your way through the entrance hall, heels hanging from your hands, you hear the notification sound and take out your phone. You let out a giggle at Taehyung’s idiotic text, but suddenly you’re bumping your face on the wall and letting out a groan of pain.

Just as your wrist is finishing to heal, now you’re hurting your nose? Great.

You whimper a bit more on the floor before you get up and go on your way, still rubbing the bridge of your nose with a frown.

After managing to do your skincare routine and change into your pyjamas – or rather a tee and a pair of panties because Jesus Christ it is hot – you tuck yourself into your bed with a smile, glad to finally find yourself ready to sleep. Not a single worry or concern in your head, just the utter joy of knowing that tomorrow you won’t have to face any troubles.

And just like that, you fall asleep. And as always, one thought goes to your mysterious housemate.

He’s all over you, hot breath fanning against your cleavage.

With his hands snuck under your shirt and kneading your breasts, Jimin begins to play with one of your nipples and profusely watches your reactions, hoping to see you wake up any time soon.

You, however, only groan quietly and arch your back, thighs rubbing together. He’s not getting concerned only because you’re still breathing and you don’t look too pale. Jimin leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and rucks up the fabric, engrossed by the sight of your bare breasts.

He wants to touch every corner of your body, but he wants you to be awake to enjoy it.

Slowly, Jimin makes his way down to the waistband of your underwear. Your smell is so sweet, so intoxicating, each of his sensors is going wild at the mere thought of tasting you; your arousal against his tongue as he laps at your folds, your breasts bouncing as you arch your back, it all makes his fingers tighten on your hips. This desire to melt into your body is consuming him.

Jimin doesn’t need air, but he feels breathless.

His fingertips stroke your clothed folds, feeling them warm already. Arousal soaks the fabric, you’d welcome him so easily. One word from you and he’ll be on his knees ready to pleasure you.

“Hm…” you suddenly let out, turning your head around. Your hips buck, chasing his touch.

This is exactly what you wanted him to do, he thinks as he pulls down your underwear. He will fulfil your fantasy tonight.

As Jimin finds room between your thighs, you stir on the bed, pretty much unbothered for now. You’ll wake up to ecstasy, he’ll make sure you do. The firmest path to your love, he’ll carve it with his teeth if it’s necessary; with his tongue shoved between your legs as he helps his Master find complete bliss.

The trail of thoughts has left him a bit agitated by the time his lips meet your skin. Jimin plays with your inner thighs, kissing the flesh, teasing his sloppy way to your folds while his hands stroke up and down your waist. The sight of your wet heat welcomes him.

His tongue parts your lips, and he grips your butt to spread your legs, giving him better access. He wants you to drown him between your legs, make him yours, claim him. Sucking, licking, lapping at your folds, slurping and flicking his tongue; Jimin watches you move on the mattress once again, a soft moan escaping from your lips. Your thighs hug his head so nicely, and your hips rock against his mouth in a greedy search for that wet, warm pressure.

“What—?” Your eyes widen at the sight of Jimin’s face shoved against your cunt, and you pull your hips away from him in a jerk. He doesn’t try to stop you, crawling instead on top of you. “What the fuck, Jimin!” you let out. “Get away from me!”

You push his face away with your palm, and he backs off without complaint. Jimin ends up sitting on his knees – so poignant and obedient you almost pity him.

His face is still soaked with your arousal. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought—”

Jimin cuts himself off, and you’re surprised to see that you’ve managed to leave him speechless. Then, seeing you’re not showing any reaction besides your bated breath, he crawls back to you, and you lie back, unsure about what to do. What is there to do now? He seems insistent, and your core is still pulsing, eager to be pushed over the edge.

“I want to pleasure you, ma’am,” Jimin murmurs, staring down at you with his intense red LED-lit eyes.

They’re almost heart-shaped, seeing the adoration he’s looking at you with. It makes you rub your thighs together again.

Your eyes flicker to the red switch behind his ear for a second.

“Why?” you ask with a thin voice.

This time he nuzzles your neck but you don’t mind. Instead, you have to resist the urge to move your hand from his face up to the crown of his head and pet him. You want to know why would he decide to sneak into your bed and— well, eat you out.

“I… saw the things you drew,” Jimin says, and your cheeks heat up in a mortified blush. “So, I thought they were… us.”

“W-well, you thought— you thought wrong, Jimin—”

He nods weakly and lowers his eyes, perhaps unable to keep eye contact now that he’s failed in his task. You have no idea what his ‘brain’ works like. “Yes, ma’am, I see it now.”

Was it wrong of him? Of course it was. Have you been wishing that he – or you for that matter, were you any braver – would do it? Absolutely yes. Jimin has finally surpassed the line you were even afraid of admitting it was there, and you feel… free; to touch him, to let him touch you, to kiss and be kissed. Maybe this will be your final downfall into madness, so God, let it be spectacular.

“That’s not the answer I was expecting,” you muse, suddenly grinning. “What do you say when you’ve been bad, Jimin?”

His eyes look into yours in search of some kind of hesitation, of some signal that he might be taking your actions the wrong way – again. But you’re staring up at him, a confident look on you, hands stroking the back of his hair as they move to play with the switch.

His body trembles.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again.”

“That’s better.” Your smirk widens, leaving the switch behind to stroke the back of his hair. “Good boy.”

Good boy. Good boy. His whole body goes into overdrive, limps tightening to bend down for a kiss. Good boy. But you don’t want him there, not yet, so you beckon at him to keep going further down, and Jimin gets it instantly, nestling his head between your legs without a question; you’re still dripping wet from his previous ministrations.

His laps at your nub turn sloppy as his flat tongue moves long and slow with broad strokes, there’s saliva running down the corner of his lips again. Jimin wants to savour your wetness until it’s recorded in every chip inside his head.

“Of fuck, oh— Jimin, J-Jimin,” you groan. “Shit! There, just like that—”

This is so much better now that he can hear your voice.

Your sweet voice he’s fantasised so much about, every night since he recalls his own existence. It’s been you, always you, you all over.

With your thighs fluttering around his head, Jimin opens his mouth and starts fucking you with his tongue – a perk about being a robot is that his tongue never tires, like, ever. And he keeps shoving his pointed tongue inside of you again and again, until he pulls away; his chin is soiled with a filthy mix of your arousal and his saliva, whatever that’s made of.

Making eye contact, he slips a finger inside. You’re stretched out enough for it to slide in easily, especially since you’re dripping wet. His tongue keeps flickering at your swollen nub.

“Come up here.”

You finally join for a hard kiss, lips crushing in desperation. The contact leaves you both trembling, eager, expectant. He’s still wearing his pants as he nestles his hips against yours, face buried between your exposed breasts.

You take his hand in yours to pace it, and he gets the clue instantly, curling his finger inside of you.

Knuckles deep, Jimin keeps pumping them in and out carefully, eyes fixed on your face to see what makes you grunt and moan. You tug at his hair, sensors throbbing in excitement at the roughness, when the knot in the pit of your stomach tightens.

“I want you to make me cum,” you say then, staring into his glowing eyes.

“Yes, Master.”

He fingers you while you kiss him, brushing lips together, sucking on his tongue, fingertips massaging your dripping walls and rubbing your sweet spot.

It all feels so real to the touch, you’re slowly sinking into a different world; a world where he’s human and you’re cradling a person in your arms, a world where your heart doesn’t bleed at any resemblance of love. A world where it doesn’t scare you. And it’s all Jimin, hovering over you like a dutiful shadow.

“Master,” he moans against your lips. “F-fuck, I was— I was made for loving you, Master.”

And you were made for being loved by me.

Jimin’s lips clumsily brush against yours, your tongues rolling over each other in a sloppy kiss. Pleasure grips your guts tightly, you can’t help but wish it was his cock instead working you open. Fucking you into what’s probably the best orgasm of your life.

Pleasure seeps into you with a shiver, starting from the crown of your head and taking over the rest of your body. You call for him in a whisper, and Jimin replies chanting your name like it’s a prayer. The way he adores you just pushes you further into your approaching climax. The coiling tension in your stomach engorges and gets bigger, you chase your orgasm against his fingers, his thumb stroking your swollen clit until your guts tighten.

“Shit, J-Jimin, you’re— you’re doing so well,” you groan and sink your teeth into the fake flesh of his neck. “I’m close, I’m close—”

Your hips stutter as they thrust up against his fingers, and Jimin goes faster, trying to separate the delicious sting of your love bite to focus on his arm’s motions. They have to be perfect, exact, and precise to bring you to your climax.

But he lets out a moan of pleasure when your walls clench around his finger; the memories of your warmth around him are foggy and delirious.

His body feels boiling against yours, machinery melting. Whatever his conscience is like, it’s slowly vanishing into pleasure, a mellow taste of honey on his tongue. It’s sweet and intoxicating, just like your touch – just like your hands, crawling right now to his neck to anchor him over you.

Then you go still underneath him, under his cautious stare, and with a grin, you climax around his fingers. You groan his name and claim his lips again, to which he obliges, of course. Your skin is sweaty, and you’re fighting to catch your breath while he worships your body in the afterglow of your orgasm.

Jimin peppers little pecks down your neck and chest with adoration. “Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you—”

Now that you’ve quenched your sickly thirst for the robot, you’ll go on living your normal life. No more nightly encounters, no more delirious feelings of tenderness. You will exist normally from now on.

You’re a liar. A filthy, wicked liar.

Never again, you had told yourself after that night. Letting Jimin eat you out in your own bed until you came not once but three times was one thing. Letting him sleep next to you as he recharged was a bit over the line but still acceptable.

And now here you are, sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs spread open and Jimin’s warm tongue shoved into your cunt. This wicked tryst has been going on for days now, seems to be your chosen pastime ever since. Any time you run into each other at the house, it’s like you get instantly wet and feel that familiar tingling between your thighs, and he’s not even a bit less reactive to you. Whoever reacts first doesn’t matter, the other will act accordingly; it’s as if you were addicted to each other.

Jimin knows your body like the palm of his hand. Knows where to touch you to make you tremble, knows what to say to fuel you. Always so eager to please you.

It’s like your hormones are constantly bubbling up, boiling inside your body pending his presence.

You’re practically fucking Jimin’s mouth with your tongue now. Fingers tangled in his hair, you want him as close as he may be. The feeling of his wet tongue on your cunt still lingers like a throbbing memory.

“Jimin,” you whisper against his lips.

His hands are on the counter, grounding himself. “Yes, Master?” he replies then, following your lips in another kiss.

“You’ve been enough of a tease, don’t you think?” you ask with an arched eyebrow, and Jimin tilts his head to the side, rather confused. “I want your cock now.”

You don’t know why, but you've yet to try him out. All of him, that is. Jimin has proved himself to be worthy of your body and trust, able to worship with each part of his. Except, for some reason, his cock – but you’ve started to suspect why he’s so reluctant to do it.

As Jimin begins to fumble with his pants, his eyes are fixed on yours; it’s the first time you notice him unsure about something, and it makes you shrink in doubt. Your hands find rest on his.

“You didn’t like it,” he murmurs then, “with him.”

How he is aware of that you don’t know. Although he doesn’t refer to him as his Master anymore, you’ve taken over that title now. For Jimin, that sweet, evergreen word will be chained to you forever, and he will honour it. Engraved in his hands, in the pad of his fingers, in the tip of his tongue as he worships you.

You cup his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs. “But you’re not him, are you?”

In a way. You’d be repulsed.

Jimin’s silence confuses you, but you decide not to dwell on it, and so you pull him in for another kiss; you run your tongue over his lips, and he parts his luscious lips to let you in.

With a mischievous grin, you jump off the counter and face Jimin as you play with the waistband of his trousers, making him step back until the two of you slowly fall on the couch. Once you take his cock out, you raise your hips, finally about to feel him.

And then a ringing noise interrupts.

His LED-lit eyes turn into a devious yellowish tone when you pull back to pick up the phone with a groan.

Jimin knows that voice, has seen the guy’s face – Kim Taehyung, the little shit who would hit on you all the time when you were at work. The memories of his face are tinted with an angry red he hasn’t even put there himself, bloody-like and rabid. But the mere thought enrages him, and he doesn’t understand why.

“I know it’s at short notice, and it sucks, but my boss wants us to get at it as soon as possible…”

Seeing Taehyung is still talking, you mouth at Jimin ‘work’ so that he knows you’ll hang up as soon as possible. You love your friend, you really do, but can’t he understand that you’re off work right now?

“Okay, sure, see you. Bye—”

The call has barely finished when he grabs your phone to throw it away. When you turn to demand an explanation, a shiver takes over your body. It’s a feeling of dread, one you’re familiar with.

“Don’t go,” he begs, nuzzling your neck. “Stay home with me, please.”

Warm tears wet your neck, his arms tangled around you. You’re unable to move right now, but you’re not fighting his grip off either, too confused; not aware of the storm of screeching thoughts passing by in his mind, mixed with alien feelings that are rooted deep inside of him.

You’re staring down at him dumbfoundedly when Jimin pulls back. There’s an instinct inside of you screaming to get away, but instead, you wipe his tears.

He grabs his head and looks down with his eyes closed. “I’m— I’m sorry, Master. I-I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” he whimpers then, but it doesn’t feel like he’s talking to you when Jimin starts hitting his forehead. “Forget it! Just forget it, forget it, forget it!”

Your chest feels heavy, and your body feels cold, the heat of the moment nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, you get off of him to pull your pants back up, and he does the same, avoiding your eyes. He doesn’t need to know he’s let you down right now.

But this time, though, you feel bad for him; Jimin is sobbing in a way you’ve heard no one cry before. It’s the purest form of self-inflicted pain you’ve seen, and maybe you only remember your own laments to sound like that. When you’d wake up and look in the mirror just to greet the pitiful reflection of a thrown-away doll.

You coo at him as you leave a kiss on his wet lips. “Shh, it’s okay.” Had it been another person, you wouldn’t be feeling this warmth in the pit of your stomach – but you are, and you want to sooth Jimin’s pain. “I know you didn’t mean it. Just don’t do something like this again.”

The main difference is, your Master never apologised. He always thought that, whatever he’d take with his deadly hands, he was entitled to it. The world owed him adoration.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, nodding.

“How about I turn you off while I’m at work?” you ask him then as you rake your nails through his hair.

“Please… I want to rest.”

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you turn Jimin off for the first time. Watching his body shut down is almost like watching him fall asleep, and you smile sweetly at the sight.

He probably won’t get cold, but you cover him with a cosy blanket anyways. And so you walk out of the house, grabbing your purse on your way. A meeting with the creative department doesn’t sound like fun right now, but actually, you could use some work to blow off this weird feeling inside of you.

Because, how on earth does he know those things? You’ve never told anyone that your ex-husband used to be a complete ape with his cock. Not on purpose, you hope, but Jesus Christ, you’d always have to limp your way to the bathroom afterwards.

Also, he’d always make you dry as hell.

And even though he wasn’t loving, nor a good lover, nor sensitive or caring, he had you in the palm of his hand. You can’t recall a more humiliating feeling than remembering you were in love with him.

The meeting goes, well, just as you expected – boring and way too long. Could’ve perfectly been just an email. But the team is happy to see your project go on, and you’re happy too. In fact, it’s done its job so well that you only remember about Jimin’s odd behaviour today the moment you step back into the house.

Jimin is sitting on the couch, right where you left him.

Looking cherubic and beautiful, you stare at his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his nose, and wonder where did your ex-husband get the inspiration to make him.

You lean in for a kiss on his inert lips as your thumb strokes the switch behind his ear. Naturally, his body doesn’t react in any way to your presence, and you let out a chuckle of frustration, finally turning him back on.

His eyes flutter a bit before he looks at you.

“Hi there, angel.”

Jimin smiles softly at you, nuzzling your hand in search of warmth. How sweet he is, he’s nothing like him. Not a bit.

He claims your cuddles with a gentle tug at your hand, and you sit next to him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. You rake your nails through his hair as you stare into the nothingness, too engrossed in your thoughts.

However, you’re starting to feel weirded out about just how much Jimin knows about you; why would your ex ever tell him about your problems in bed, for example? Judging by his reaction to the call, did he also talk about that time when you flirted with Taehyung perhaps a bit too much, before you confessed you were married and became friends? You don’t think your husband knew about all those things, let alone told Jimin about them.

So, why does he know, then?

What else does he know that you can’t even fathom? Your chest tingles at the prospect of already being bare before him; there are so many things you still feel ashamed of, you don’t want him out of all people to… know.

Besides, you still have no idea why. Actually, you don’t know a thing about Jimin, about his origins, about how or why he was created like this. You had sworn and promised in the past that you had decided to keep him to find out about all of that, and really, you’ve just forgotten about it.

“I just remembered” – you suddenly get up from the couch, and Jimin pouts at the sudden lack of warmth – “I left some sketches in the office. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Will you be back for dinner?” he asks, nonetheless.

“Yes, of course.”

Then you get up to fetch your purse in silence. Once you have everything you need, you wave your hand in goodbye and head to the entrance hall under Jimin’s consuming stare; it’s not watchful, but it really is intense. You feel it burning on your nape.

“Master?” You turn around when he calls you again. “You’re not mad at me about earlier, are you? I don’t know what happened to me, I’m really sorry… I was made to make you happy.”

Made to make you happy, made for loving you. You, you, you. It’s always you with him, like you’re his world. It only makes you frown, but you help the urge and smile instead, wishing it will ease his worries.

“Don’t be, I understand—”

“I’m not like him,” he suddenly says, and you feel cold all over.

“What?” You try to put on a calm face, but what he just said really weirded you out. “W-what do you mean?”

Jimin gets up and walks up to you, gently tugging at your arms. “I’m not like him, I would never be. He was a despicable monster, a-and I know I’m not even human, but— I love you, Master, I love you better than he ever could.” Then he kisses you, and you can’t help kissing him back. “I’ll do better, I promise. I won’t cross you again.”

His words make your stomach churn, but you don’t say anything; you’ve got some heavy work ahead. So, you peck his lips one more time and say goodbye, leaving him standing in the entrance hall all on his own.

It’s luminous, with a sickly white light, just as you remember it. Sterile, made of steel, and eternally silent. Few places give you the creeps like your ex-husband’s lab.

Although the place is not huge, you’re so unfamiliar with it that you wouldn’t even know where to begin with. He surely must have kept a journal of his experiments, right? He was always so keen on writing on paper— but maybe they took it away already.

It’s so weird to think that he’s dead now, though – you always thought him so powerful, so eternal, that death was never in your mind. How could it be when he was the ruler and commander of your life? What would you be without him, you pitiful butterfly? Always his angel, his pretty little thing, his loving wife he was so in love with.

And now he’s dead. Like a pathetic, weak human, he’s dead.

Instead of feeling sad or uneasy about it, it makes you feel good. It feels so, so good to know that he’s rotting somewhere. You hope it hurt.

You move around the room, looking at your surroundings; plans and sketches scattered on tables that no one has bothered to clean, half-made robotic arms, and dozens of inventions displayed on shelves like they’re his prizes.

But contrary to what you expected – or not since you always knew he was a control freak – you find his journals piled up and sorted out by date on one of the shelves at the end. If you remember correctly, Mrs Im said he started working on Jimin five years ago. That is, three and a half years before your divorce, so you look for the notebooks with that year written on them.

“Aha! Gotcha.”

You start revising the first journal, turning the pages as your eyes fly over the letters. Finally, you find the first notes; he mentions a folder with the official project information, but you will look for it later. What you read is more or less what his lawyer told you, the research of android models for sale as sex products.

It feels a little strange to read it on paper, so cold, when Jimin’s presence is so warm.

However, something catches your attention out of a sudden. You read it again to make sure you didn’t misinterpret it, but it’s pretty hard to do it:

The experiments are running smoothly: thanks to my memories, Jimin reacts to basic stimulation, and his sensors work well. Today it hardened only by smelling one of Y/N’s pieces of underwear. It will be a success if I manage to set his arousal on with vaguer objects or smells.

You turn the pages, being met only with shallow comments on the experiment. But you want to see if he mentions you again. What did he mean, ‘his memories’? How could that be possible? And why would he use you out of all people to test Jimin’s… sensors, or whatever he’s talking about?

To check next day: refractory period. Just when I was about to see if Jimin recovers faster when the stimulation is linked to her, she came down to announce her mother had just arrived. I ought to continue the experiment from there.

I hate that old woman; I wish I could get rid of her forever. I know she talks shit about me to Y/N.

Your eyebrow immediately arches at the comment; for years he would cry about how your mother hated him, and it turns out the feeling was mutual. Honestly, at this point, you’re not even surprised.

For the time being, you want to focus on processing the fact that somehow your crazy ex-husband managed to turn his memories into chips, or whatever. You don’t have a clue about these things. To insert them into Jimin and, well, you guess, customise his sexual arousal? Does that even make sense?

Jimin seems to have taken on an odd behaviour lately. It follows Y/N around the house but is aware it must not be seen. It knows of conversations the two of us have had without being present, and even of things not even I knew about; today Y/N showed up with a new mug and thanked me for buying it, but it was not me.

I have also noticed a growing aggressiveness towards me. More verbal than physical, but I am studying the possibility of speeding up the selling.

Suddenly breathless, you limply put the notebook back on the table.

So, it wasn’t him. None of it was, probably. The mug, or the flowers, or those cute notes he’d leave on the fridge wishing you a good day – they had all been Jimin’s. And suddenly you feel so, so fucking relieved.

He had been the problem all along. Not even Jimin, who had his memories, had his wickedness. Jimin was sweet, so he could’ve been too; he just didn’t want to.

And that is all you needed to know.

Then you realise you’ve reached the end of the notebook. You grab the next one, which covers a year and a half and covers your divorce. This is probably the only chance you’ll ever get to know what he was really feeling back then. Or ever, for that matter.

It seems that my memories are a bigger influence on Jimin’s personality than I first thought. It has become obsessed with my wife as if it was in love with her.

I know it was the plan all along, but I cannot help wondering if I have taken it too far.

I have not been fighting to keep her with me so that thing will ruin my chances of staying with her.

You smile fondly as you read it. However, as your eyes reach the last paragraph, you frown with disgust at his words. How could he speak like that of his own creation? Oh, what a heartless man. You cannot help but pity him. A body filled with hatred and fear and pain, he was a good for nothing.

This week I will be conducting no experiments as I ought to see my lawyer.

You quickly turn the page again.

This time, you’re startled as you observe the handwriting; it’s messy, angry, written so strongly that the pen almost ripped the paper. The page underneath is marked, the letters never to be forgotten.

I hate him. I hate him, and I hate her. And I love her. Y/N is mine, Jimin is mine, they are both mine, yet I cannot make them do what I think it’s best.

She fucking left. I would make her such a masterful thing if she’d only let me.

But there’s always that beastly creature stopping me.

Stopping him, how? What did he mean by that?

The next notes don’t feel too interesting; he doesn’t even sound like he’s enjoying himself anymore. The comments are technical, and he noted down some of his thoughts about the companies that had offered to buy Jimin.

But then you realise something.

If he wanted to sell – and it sounded like he was pretty confident about his decision – why would he leave Jimin to you in his will? If he wanted you to stay as far from him as possible.

You’re done with the notebook, so you grab the next one. It seems to be the last one, too; there are no more journals in sight, and it looks like most of the pages of this one have never been touched before. The spine doesn’t look too used either. Maybe he finished the project quickly before he even had the chance to write much?

There’s no way out. Every time, it manages to catch up on me. Wherever I go, it knows. Whatever I do, it knows. It will be standing at the end of the corridor, looking at me, grinning like it knows my darkest secrets. I cannot get out of the house without it knowing, it knows everything. I’m sure it’ll kill me.

If I die, it killed me.

My love, if you ever read this, please know that he is worse than I will ever be. If you’re reading this and I’m gone, know that his hands are dripping with blood, not mine. I know I’m sick, but so are you. We were sick in love, were we not? Loving each other until our souls rotted.

He’s different. He has no soul, no sickness. He doesn’t understand your darkness the way I do.

It makes me full, like an endless cycle. There is no birth without blood, but for him, there was no blood, no guts. He’s as human as I will make him, ripped out from my ribs.

His love is my sickness. Remember it if you ever love him back.

“Master?”

For the first time in a while, you’re terrified to hear his voice.

Turning around, you see Jimin standing at the top of the stairs. You flinch when he takes a step down, so he stops altogether and waits for a reaction, a word, a sound – anything from you, something to let him know you don’t despise him.

“Did you follow me here?” you ask with a frown, too afraid not to be crossed.

“I was worried,” he murmurs. “You left so suddenly you forgot your phone at home… A-and I did think that perhaps you were lying and that you’d be coming here instead.”

And he was right, in a way. But that doesn’t give him the right to follow you. That’s practically stalker behaviour. You’re starting to get the creeps, so Jimin goes all the way down to you and gently takes your hands. You don’t know if you don’t move out of fear or because you’re too comfortable with his touch.

Your voice comes out weakly. “Did you really kill him?”

“Yes,” he says with a smile. “I— I did it for you, Master. He erased my memories, I had to do something. He wanted to take me away from you.”

“So, you killed him,” you repeat, rather to yourself. Nodding slowly, you pull your hands away from his and turn around, needing some air to sort out your thoughts. “Because— because you wanted to stay with me? Why?”

You already know the answer. You don’t believe it yet, you don’t think it possible – but you know what words you’ll hear.

“Because I love you.”

Jimin seems ashamed of it, as he avoids your eyes and decides to stare at the floor instead. Like a boyish love confession on a sunny school day, your delusional body warms up the idea, but he can’t, can he? He can’t love you.

“Jimin,” you call softly, and finally, he looks up from the floor, “when you look at me, do you see me? Me, as a human, as a woman, as a creature? Do you even understand all of that?”

And then he smiles, and your chest blooms. “Yes – and you’re fascinating.”

All those years watching you, sneaking glances of you walking around the house, so close but still so far away. He’d dream of you, dream of you in his arms, him in yours, sharing kisses, pleasuring you the way his Master could not. He’d be careful, he’d be loving, he’d listen to each of your words.

“He gave me this body and all the cables and everything that keeps me moving, but you, Y/N— you gave me a conscience! You made everything make sense! You made me human,” Jimin claims in a whisper.

You can’t help but frown. “But he deleted them. How can you still remember me?”

You’re getting an answer for each of your questions, but somehow, they all seem only to leave you even more confused.

“He didn’t,” Jimin rushes to say, and then he goes on to explain further, seeing your puzzled face, “Not all of them, at least. I didn’t let him. I wanted to be with you, I didn’t want to… forget you.”

“Why?”

“Because after I got to know you through his memories I realised that, if there’s any person on this world that could accept me despite what I am, that was you. I thought you could love me.”

Letting out a sigh – of desperation, tiredness, love, you have no idea – you cup his cheeks and purse your lips. Do you love him? You’re not sure. Your stomach churns and turns at the mere idea of losing him, but can you really love him?

His words echo in your head like poison. His love is my sickness. Remember it if you ever love him back.

But is it, really? Jimin’s love feels soft. It doesn’t feel smothering or drowning. He loves you just the way you want to be loved. You don’t feel owned by him, on the contrary. Actually, you think Jimin loves you despite his husband’s sickness. That must be why he apologised when it took over him this evening at Taehyung’s call.

The sickness shrieked, the love apologised and learned.

“I know they aren’t mine,” he continues, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I know it wasn’t me you fell in love with, whom you slept with, the person you decided to spend the rest of your life with. I know it was him all along, but I—” Jimin nuzzles your neck in a desperate search for your warmth. “I can’t help it! I was made for loving you!”

But instead of answering, you tilt his chin up and kiss him.

“Living— living with the memories,” he continues as you leave pecks on the corner of his lips, “of your touch, of your warmth, your love.” Jimin’s arms tangle around your waist. “Loving you but forced to stay away – it was torture, Master.”

His breath feels warm against you, his hands feel hungry around you. His red LED-lit eyes stare into yours, searching for a sign, any indication of love.

You brush your lips together, softly at first, until his whimper makes you grin and run your tongue over his lip, asking for entrance. You suck his bottom lip into his mouth until he does, tongues rolling over each other in a heated kiss. With your skin burning up, you run your hands through his hair, and Jimin cautiously squeezes your butt when you push him against the counter.

Suddenly, you sink to your knees and begin to fumble with the waistband of his pants.

“So, you have sensors, right?” He nods weakly. “Everywhere.”

“Y-yes, ma’am—”

“And is there any way to alter them? Is it possible to make you last longer, or even make you not last at all?” you ask, still kneeling before him. Again, Jimin nods and closes his eyes. “Then, I want you as sensitive as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

He must have a limit, and you want to find it. Either he runs out of cum, or his sensors give up, or he just fucking short-circuits.

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to get hard between your fingers, smooth rolls of your wrist as you pump him with an affectionate but hungry pace. Letting out a gasp, Jimin grips the edge of the counter for balance; he’s indeed too sensitive not to react to the touch he’s been craving his whole existence.

“So hard,” you purr, “I can’t wait to taste you, Jimin…”

“M-master, please, Master! Oh fuck, oh—” Jimin whimpers in response, gritting his teeth.

His body is shaking when you part your lips and engulf his cock, eyes glued to his pretty face. His knees buckle, and he squeaks in pleasure, you hollow your cheeks to swallow more of him. Meanwhile, your other hand gently plays with his balls.

“That— that f-feels so good, Master,” he rasps. In appreciation, you suck further down onto his cock until there’s a trickle of saliva rolling down your chin. “Shit! God, thank you!”

You somehow manage to grin with his cock between your parted lips. Jimin seems too aroused to process any robotic thought properly, so you move your hands to his ass and knead the flesh, pushing your lips into your mouth. He yelps instantly and follows it with his hips, and then you dip your tongue into his slit; it makes him let out a sob and almost fall to his knees, warning you of his climax, or rather begging you to slow down.

Your darkened lips, wet with saliva, suck again while your tongue presses on his tip. His cock throbs, a salty flavour you think it’s fake precum lingering on it. His hardened length slides in and out of your mouth with sloppy movements.

Jimin lets out a choked sob. “Master!” Filled with guilt, as gently as his trembling body will let him, he puts his hands on your hair. “L-let me cum, I need to— I-I need to come, please—”

Finally, you raise your head to let his length slide out of your mouth, and you catch back your precious breath.

“Sensitive, are we?” you mock him.

There’s time for him only to roll his eyes, out of annoyance or pleasure, before his hips buckle into your mouth one more time. The coiling tension in his sensors pools in the centre of his body, Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, and soon his cock twitches again, heavy on your tongue, warning you of his high.

“Master,” he whimpers. “T-thank you, Master, fuck— shit!”

And Jimin spills himself inside of your mouth, his release salty and more similar to actual cum than you expected. After swallowing, you help him ride out his orgasm using both hands and lips.

He’s still holding his weight on the counter when you speak, “Get on the table and lie down.”

He was probably expecting to eat you out since you pull down your pants once you straddle him, so it does take Jimin by surprise when you align your entrance with his half-hard cock. You hear him mumble something as your hand grips his cum-covered length, fingers playing with his release and making him let out a gasp.

“Are you still sensitive?” Barely able to keep eye contact, Jimin nods weakly. “Good.”

You quickly get rid of both your and his shirt. Once you’re naked against each other, you bend down to finally touch, knead, nib, and kiss wherever you feel like; you’ve had enough of leisurely letting him pleasure you without taking your part.

Your warm lips leave a trail of kisses down his neck and chest. “I’ll ride you again and again… until you either run out of cum or short-circuit.”

“M-mast—!”

Jimin lets out a choked sob when you sink down on his cock, immediately rolling down your hips. A hint of pain takes over you as your walls grip him, stretching around his length, and you moan. It’s been a while since you last had such a nice cock work you open— but then Jimin’s hands grab your waist, and his blissed face takes you completely off guard.

“Fuck, so good, Master, I love— I love you,” he whines.

His eyes move down to his cock disappearing into your body; you feel so warm, so wet, the pressure around him letting him know that you’re stuffed with him too.

You breathe out and thrust down onto him again, setting a desperate, frenetic tempo. “You feel good too, angel, shit—” The sounds of smacking flesh echo across the room, pushing you to ride him faster. “Gonna fuck you until I go mad—”

With your hands splayed across his chest, you use him for leverage to slam your hips together.

“Please, don’t stop!” Jimin begs you then, eyes rolling back. “Oh, coming, M-Master! I’m— I’m close, p-please—!”

You bend down again and nuzzle his neck only to gently bite on his earlobe, making him purr. “So, you want to come inside of me, Jimin? Want to fill your Master up with your cum? Is that—” A groan drowns down your throat when his cock finally finds and pumps into the right spot. “I-is that what you want?”

The heated kiss the two of you share is enough of an answer. You tilt your hips so that your clit rubs against his pubic bone, pushing you closer to your climax.

Body arching against you, Jimin pushes back up against your thrusts erratically. His thighs move up and down to help, the seeming muscles bulging and flexing, and all his system starts to burn, aching to burst. His cock slides into your dripping cunt in a desperate tempo.

Jimin sucks on the skin of your neck before whispering, breathless, “I’m—”

And then you feel it – a tremble, a soft pant, and one last powerful thrust up into you before you groan at the warm feeling of his cum flooding you. Jimin reaches out for your body as he convulses, hugging you tightly before you give in and kiss him. Your hips don’t stop after even helping him ride out his climax, and he looks at you with his brows knitted in confusion. But you smirk, his creamy release leaking from your entrance and leaking down his cock.

“Ugh— hurts, Master,” he whines then. His fingers dig into your waist.

“Told you,” you whisper; “I’ll ride you until I come, no matter how many times I have to make you come.”

Like a man who has accepted his doom, Jimin lets you kiss him again, this time hungrily sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. A groan vibrates in your throat, you can tell you’re close, judging by the way your body is burning up, your swollen clit rubbing against the base of his cock.

It softens partially inside of you, but not for long; maybe it’s because of his sensors – since they’re set to the highest level of sensitivity – that Jimin sucks in a sharp breath when you clench around him.

“I’m close, angel,” you say, almost grunting.

You’re close, can feel your climax teasing you. Heat spreads under your skin, and you have to fight not to crumble on top of him, thighs burning. He stares at your sweat, covering your body, sliding down the valley of your breasts, tapping against the metal surface. You enjoy how Jimin responds to your touch when you stroke down his chest and realise he’s close too.

Slowly, you raise your hips and snap them onto his cock again, eyes never leaving his beautiful red LED-lit irises.

“Cum with me, will you?”

You’re so full of his cum already, you’re sure it’ll leak out for hours. But your lips find each other in the sickly whitish light blinking over you, and it’s so comforting that you can’t help the tension snapping in the pit of your stomach with a deep moan muffled against his lips.

“Shit, shit, baby—! Oh, fuck, so good, so good,” you chant, now rutting your hips faster.

You dissolve into pleasure with his arms around you, grounding you to him. Walls fluttering around his cock, the shockwaves grip your body like a fit of hysterical lust, pushing you to fuck him faster, harder, balls swinging against your cheeks until Jimin lets out a trembling sob; then he empties himself inside of your tight walls, and you relentlessly fuck him through his orgasm, slower by the minute.

Jimin watches your breasts as they heave up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. Meanwhile, his system slows down, now trying to run smoothly.

You smile when his thumbs stroke your waist in circles. “What?”

“I still…” His smile falters, now totally back on earth. “I still don’t know if you want to keep me, Master.”

“You’ll have to stop calling me ‘Master’ eventually, you know,” you say and ignore his pleading question. Caressing his cheeks feel way more interesting right now.

“Why?”

“Well” – you sit up on his lap, making some of his release leak out and drip down your inner thighs – “I’m sure people will start making questions, don’t you think? I believe you should stick to it only at home, when we’re alone— or even better, only in the bedroom.”

It takes him a second to realise you’re taking him. With this, you’re claiming him, you didn’t even doubt it for a second.

Jimin is yours, forever, however long that lasts.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

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wildflowwer · 5 months

Text

"ah fuck mommy~" jungkook moaned while bouncing on the dildo attached to the strap on that was around your hips, tightly wraped.

"good boy, look at you taking that cock so well hm" u looked at him while smirking, leaning down to place some kisses on his neck

"mghh~ m-mommy kiss me m-more ahhh" jungkook placed his right hand on your hair, trying to keep you in place while his other hands hold on your leg for support.

"Oh look at this, you look so beautiful rn baby" u took your phone from the drawer beside the bed, taking some photos of the beautiful view infront of you

"Please-ahh fu-fuckk I'm gonnaa cummnghh" jungkook rolled his eyes back to his head, back arched so hard, afraid he would break it, he came hard all over his stomach and it landed on yours too

"aren't you such a pathetic slut hm?? didn't even bother asking?" u lifted his head up by his chin looking at his lustfull eyes

"i-im sorry, please im so sorry" jungkook mewl and whine, letting out cries

"don't you think u need a punishment baby? " I pulled him by his hips, the dildo still inside of him, switching positions so now youre on top of him

before he could say anything I started pounding that beautiful ass of his making him cry in overstimulation and being too sensitive

"Oh baby, this just started, dw I will make you feel so good. I will fuck you so good until all you know is how good I'm fucking that ass of yours" smirking you placed kisses down his jaw, to his collarbones and then you've taken your time, playing with his nipples, sucking and nibbling on them

"m-mommy fucaahhk" jungkook arched his back, rolling his eyes back to his head. he really is going insane, youre making him feel so good, so good that he knows that he won't be able to walk tomorrow morning .

"im- I'm gonna cummnghh aah-"

Jungkook came but you didn't stop, you continue fucking his ass fast and rough ( not like he didn't enjoy it-) making his legs shake and his body tremble.

Ig this night will be a long freaking night,after all jungkook was thankful for it.

GUYSS THANK YOU SM FOR THE LIKESS LIKE- THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCHHH!!! FOR THE LOVE YALL ARE SHOWING MEEE AAA IM LIKE SO THANKFULL OMGG!!!😭❤️❤️

Hope you enjoy this one too and pls a like will mean alot to meee Ily guys❤️❤️❤️❤️

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #sub!jungkook #kpop #sub!kpop #bts #sub!bts

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2amimagines · 1 year

Text

never letting y'all forget about these

MY GOODNESS MIGHT HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT THIS-

hotel threesome fic????????

#dom!reader #kpop #sub!idol #sub!kpop #sub kpop #sub!bts #sub bts #sub!jungkook #sub!taehyung #sub jungkook #sub taehyung

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joonlaksme · 7 months

Text

Sign Here: Chapter Three

Sign Here Masterlist

Summary: All of Min Yoongi’s partners never knew what he truly wanted. Too scared to tell them to their face, he decides to just invest into a professional. He didn’t know you were exactly what he was looking for.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

-> Genre: Yoongi x Dominatrix!reader, Smut

-> Warnings for this Chapter: You with other clients, Yoongi has tattoos >_<, nipple play, pain play, spit play, throat fucking (gagging, choking, coughing), a lil bratty!Yoongi

-> Word Count: 2,700+

A/N: I’m actually proud of how this came out so I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 3: Act One

Yoongi isn't sure what to do right now.

He's sitting on the couch in the living room of one of his closest friends, Kim Namjoon, as he fixes him a cup of coffee. The truth is, Yoongi told him that he had something he wanted to tell him. However, as he sits in the room listening to low volume jazz, playing on a record player while he messes with loose threads on throw pillows, he starts to rethink his decision. The crackling on the track couldn’t distract him enough. What would his best friend think?

Why did he even care that much?

Yoongi didn’t often confide in his friends for things. He knows it isn’t exactly healthy but he has always been one to deal with problems and decisions by himself. Now that he’s getting into a new relationship- BDSM at that, although he isn’t regretting his decision, he is iffy about whether he should share it with others. He knows no one is entitled to his thoughts but he wants to learn how to get more comfortable talking to his friends about personal things. Now that Yoongi is sitting on his best friend’s couch, he might as well commit. Why else would he be here?

“So, what’s the sudden request for a meet up about?” Namjoon walks up to him, a cup of tea in his hands. His eyes fill with concern because Yoongi has never so nervously called him before. He was usually calm, collected, and straight forward. Namjoon was the guy that gave him a new outlook on situations when he knew he needed to turn to someone. There is no judgment.

“You know how…a few months ago, I broke up with Ae-min.”

Namjoon nods as he sits back in his seat, adjusting the volume on his jazz music. “Did she try to talk to you again?”

Yoongi shakes his head briefly, “Rather, I got in a relationship. With someone else!”

Noticing how off character this was of Yoongi, the taller man places his tea cup down on his coffee table and lays his concern on the back burner for now. “Ah hyung, that’s great! When do I get to meet them?” His eyebrows wiggle, a grin popping on his face. Just the mood of Yoongi’s friend settles his nerves. Namjoon’s smiles are contagious.

Having a good judgment of character, Namjoon always took it upon himself to meet Yoongi's newest relationship. Ae-min was a woman that had been a particular thorn in Namjoon’s side. For the ten months the two were together, he could tell something was off. Whenever he was around, she was a bit too touchy; too flirty to someone who she knew was her boyfriend’s best friend.

It was when she pushed him against a wall at a party and tried to force a kiss on him when Namjoon had gotten the hint. No amount of alcohol would be able to shift him to betray his friend. When he was sobering up the next day, he called Yoongi about the ordeal. They officially broke up the very next day.

“That’s what I wanted to actually talk to you about the most. It’s not really the standard relationship that you think it is. I don’t think I’m ready to move on to something else yet.” Yoongi explains.

This leaves Namjoon further confused and it shows up on his face. It was understandable as Yoongi and his ex had been apart for almost 3 months. He rests his hot cup on the table and leans back in the plush of the couch before crossing his arms, “Then, what do you mean?”

Yoongi messes with his fingers for a second before just coming out with it. “I’ve decided to hire a professional dominatrix.” But it comes out more like a question than a statement.

One beat of silence. Then two.

“Woah. Wow.”

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck, breaking eye contact as he stretches for a moment. That wasn’t exactly the reaction Yoongi was expecting.

“I have a lot of questions but…honestly? Good on you. After what you’ve been through, I think it’s great that you’re moving on.” Namjoon looks back at him and smiles, showing his dimples. “I can ask you the details later but for now, can we finally watch this movie? I’ve been wanting you to see it for a while.”

Settled with Namjoon’s comments, Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee and gestures towards the television with a tilt of his head. “It better be scary.”

“This will be our final play.” You mutter into your client’s ear, her hair firmly in your grasp. Your fingers made a mess of what was previously mid-length, neat scarlet waves. She nods in confirmation, not being able to reply with the gag in her mouth. “Good.” And you gently tap her cheek.

Then your phone dings. You sigh because you swear you put it on silent before starting today's session. Maybe this one was broken. You pick it up and read the message.

Mr. Min - Friday? Not sure I can do that but I’ll let you know

You pat the floor twice and your client scrambles on the floor to crawl at your fingertips. You sit on her back as she holds herself up by her hands and knees. She quivers from your weight and whines but holds her ground.

You - Absolutely. I’ll be there around seven if there aren’t any change in plans

There’s a knock on his door and he has to look at the mirror near the entrance to see if he’s presentable before opening it. As expected, it was you, here at seven on the dot.

You walk in, black boots heavily clacking on the wooden floors of the entrance. You look around to what is immediately the living room after the first hallway. A deep gray couch with plants around the walls and near doors, some real and some fake.

It was only when you walked in that Yoongi realized he had no idea how this would start. Why is he so nervous?

“I got this for you.” You turn your head to him and hand him a gift bag. The top of it is covered with tissue paper. “Don’t open it yet.”

Yoongi can’t help but be curious for what’s in the bag. What did you give him? He places it near his shoe rack for now.

You take off your jacket and hang it on the rack at the entrance before walking up to the couch. You sit down, no invitation needed, and cross your legs. Then, you clap so loud it causes Yoongi to flinch.

“Today, we’re just going to get to know each other. Okay, darling?” You look back at him.

A shiver runs down his spine and he mindlessly walks and sits next to you. He nods, waiting for you to do or say anything. A couple of moments pass by as you get comfortable on his couch, twirling your finger absentmindedly on the soft texture of the couch.

“Take off your shirt and lay on my lap.”

You say it in such a careless way that it confuses Yoongi just a little bit. Why does he have to take off his shirt?

“What-“

And before he can finish his question, you’re lurching towards him and he shuts his mouth quickly when your fingers hold his chin. You not-quite-glare but challengingly stare at him while sinking into the brown of his eyes and him, the color of yours. One of your eyebrows go up and you let go to lean back on the couch, arms now spread on the back, his head close to your fingers. Now, you’re looking at him.

He does as you say, pulling his shirt over head and revealing his tattoos in full. A chain of blue roses cover his arms and almost continue to his shoulders. Instead, they run down his chest, the amount of flowers thinning and becoming smaller until it’s down his stomach. It is just enough to be covered with a simple long sleeve shirt. They were intricate and the details make it more gorgeous and life-like. Yoongi doesn’t have defined abs; he’s built perfectly and is just your type.

He usually is never looked at and analyzed like this often when his shirt has been off. His nipples go hard in the cold of the room and goose bumps rise on his skin. He resists covering his arms for warmth and comes over to you with as much confidence as he can muster.

You pat your lap, “c’mere.” It’s a bit cheerful, as if you’re treating him like a dog and he can’t deny that it makes him feel some type of way, his heart jumping out of his chest.

He rests the back of his head on your lap and he’s puzzled as to where this can possibly lead to.

Your fingers trace every stem and root of the tattooed flowers on his arms and make their way inwards. They ran down his chest with feather-like touches. Yoongi has to resist the urge to get closer for more of your warmth and instead he finds himself letting out the smallest sigh. He arches his back when your finger grazes his nipple.

“Sensitive here?” You ask in a mumble.

It’s rhetorical, he knows. It’s obvious that he is but he never had the courage to tell his exes and past flings that. Sure, he would take advantage of it when he would masturbate but no one has ever taken the chance to see for themselves. Except you. Maybe it’s because you’re a professional. You flick one and a smile grows on your face when his breath stutters.

“I would love to make you cum just like this.”

He wants to moan louder but he’s not used to being vocal. You can tell by the way he bites at his lips and little whines come from the back of his throat but don’t come out in full force. You know that is just something you’ll have to train him to do. You focus on playing with his nipples, pinching, flicking and rubbing them until he’s arching his pretty back closer to your hands.

It’s when you graze your nails up his pecs that he lets out a full blown moan. Red lines on his pale skin show up in your nails’ wake from its pressure. What stops you is his hands grabbing yours.

“Wait,” He’s out of breath. His eyes are blown out, cock making a clear outline in his pants and he shuffles his hips side to side as if it will help him gain release.

“Yucca?” You offer his safe word just in case he forgets it. Immediately he shakes his head.

So you pull his hands off of yours and continue your ministries.

“Fuck…”

He shivers again but this time it’s not because he’s cold. In fact, he feels like he might start sweating. He thought you were joking about making him cum with just his nipples but the longer you do this, the more he starts to believe you.

“Why’d you stop me?” You tug.

His teeth press together, arching, “This is a-a lot.”

One of your hands moves away from his nipples to dip into his newly agape mouth. When your fingers hit his tongue, he instinctively wraps his lips around them.

“This okay?” You say in this babying voice while your finger motions are anything but sweet. Your fingers are rougher, nails involved more than before. The fingers in his mouth are close to thrusting down his throat.

He’s so hard and you haven’t even touched his dick.

He nods almost immediately at your question, small humps in the air as he really starts to feel the texture of his pants. Why would he wear underwear in his own home? Well, he wasn’t expecting to be making this much of a mess in them. Gray sweatpants were the worst thing to wear because the wet spot on it couldn’t be hidden even if he tried.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth, spit attached to them before you swap hands. You coat and swirl your wet fingers around his sensitive nipples and with his okay, stuff the two from your other hand, down his throat until he’s gagging on it.

It’s more intense than he thought for your first session but he knows what he signed up for. He is the one who checked all those things down in the contract. He reaches to touch his cock just a bit for a glimpse of relief and a clear head but then you move your fingers from both his mouth and his chest.

“Baby…” You rub up and down on his tattooed arms. “You know better, don’t you?”

He looks into your eyes, his own glazed with lust. You notice the way he tries to subtly roll his eyes.

“Don’t you?” You repeat yourself, surprising him by pushing your fingers on his tongue. “Speak.”

“Y-yesh.” He gets out the sound even with your fingers in his mouth.

Your fingers run closer down his throat and he tenses. “Then…why did you even try it?”

He can feel himself twitching in his pants again. He’s realizing just how close he is to the edge.

You thrust your fingers down his throat again, watching tears build up in his eyes. He gags again, spit gathering at his lips. It doesn’t help when your finger are back to his nipples, even meaner than before.

“Wa-“ He tries to get out the ‘wait’ but the gagging is too much and instead, he chokes on it. You pull your fingers back to the top of his tongue as he coughs and squirms in your hold.

You fake a pout, rolling his nipples between two fingers and then running your nails down his chest once again.

“Fuck, wait wait, gonna-“

You lean down, pressing a kiss on his forehead and you mumble there. You talk to him soothingly and before he knows it, he’s shivering and making a mess in his sweatpants. His hands jump up and you grab them in yours, watching as he cums untouched. His eyes clenched tightly while he thrusts in the air, groans flowing from his lips and you do nothing but watch it all happen.

It’s not often that your clients cum without some type of lower stimulation so this is just a treat. You can’t deny how turned on you are.

When he’s lowered to trembles, you let go of his hand and kiss his forehead again. “Y’okay?”

His eyes open slowly, blurry and the light coming from the ceiling doesn’t help.

“Holy shit.” He puddles in your lap. He grips your thigh in a way you would call lovingly before looking into your eyes. “I’ve never done that before.”

“A lot of people haven’t.” You push your hand in his hair, saliva already dried on your fingers and his chest. You playfully flick at his nipple again and he moves away, letting out a small sound of disapproval. “I’ve learned a lot about you. You have quite the pain kink, don’t you?”

Yoongi presses his lips together before mumbling, “maybe.”

It’s either you don’t hear him or you choose to not acknowledge it. “How do you feel?”

It’s genuine and warms his heart. He hides his eyes behind his hair, feeling how uncomfortable it is in his pants. “I really need to take a bath.” And he lets out a small scoff.

“Can I help you out?” And you continue with a joke, “No extra charge.” Your fingers twirl in his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Well in that case…” He lingers his sentence, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Yoongi looks at his pants on the floor, grimacing at the sight of it inside-out. He’s already soaked to his chest in hot water and he can feel his muscles relaxing under the bubbles and smell of lavender in the air.

You’re there, gently rubbing a sponge on his arms. “I want to get to know you-“

Yoongi lays back on the edge of his bathtub, eyes meeting yours, “You know I can’t trust you when you say that now, right?”

You stop your movements to let out a laugh, “To be honest, I was trying to learn about what you liked.” You dip the sponge in the sudsy water again and gently rub it on his arms, “Dare I say, I helped you learn something that you like.”

Yoongi chuckles and although he’d like to say something sassy, he holds himself back and gets comfortable in the steam and the feeling of your touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#min yoongi x reader #sign here #bts smut #bts fanfic #gender neutral fanfic #sub!bts #sub!yoongi #kpop smut #dom!reader

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borathae · 1 month

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"You love torturing Jungkook. He is so fucking adorable when he whines and squirms for you. Alternatively: You tie up Jungkook and torture him with a pretty prostate vibrator."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, ownership kink, bondage, hickeys, biting, dirty talk, use of a prostate vibrator, exhibitionism, voyeurism, stripping, orgasm control, she ties him up and then goes to the room next door to let him suffer with a vibrator in his ass, consensually of course, aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: currently eating him tf up ngngng he is so!! have fun besties 🧡

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

“Good.”

You tie a pretty bow and run your hands up his arms. He has them behind his back, still covered by the sleeves of his black button up. The button up is open in the front because your hands needed to feel his skin. It adds to the vibes. Half-dressed and already ravished. He looks so handsome this way.

“Mhm, so fucking yummy”, you purr, dragging your parted lips up his neck, “you look so yummy tied up.”

Jungkook rolls his head to the side, closing his eyes sensually at the feeling. Your kiss is electric on his skin, leaving him wanting more. Tingles keep running down his spine, his heart is racing in his chest.

You reach the lobe of his ear, tracing it with the tip of your tongue. He giggles, writhing away because it tickles. You chuckle, pulling him close with your hand around his throat. You don’t apply pressure. He should know that he is yours even without any kind of force.

“Don’t flee”, you purr and snatch for his ear to nibble on it softly.

“Tickles”, he sighs and shivers. He whines, lifting his shoulder, “tickles, I can’t help it.”

“Mhm, poor boy”, you tease and peck the shell of his pierced ear. You give him a soft squeeze before sitting back. The distance hurts both of you. You want to feel his warmth, just as he wants to feel yours. But it is needed. Only distance makes it possible that you can get what you need. You hold it between your fingers as you crawl to the front. He is sitting on the bed, having his legs bent by the knees and pulled close to him. His eyes run over your body instantly. You are still in your dress. Burgundy red. It matches with your lipstick and the jewels on your ears. The dress is cut to really show off your chest in the most sensual and elegant of ways. His eyes linger on it and how your breasts move as you get closer to him.

“Like the view?” you tease him.

“Sorry”, he looks into your eyes, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

You chuckle, “you’re a horndog.”

“Hey.”

“I like it”, you swipe your thumb over his pouty lips, “don’t get the wrong idea.”

He follows the touch with a sigh of your name and his lids fluttering. He looks so perfect this way. It’s a shame that you have to cover those pretty lips of his’.

You lift the pink scarf into his vision. His eyes trace it hungrily. He licks his lips. The scarf sat around your shoulders once, keeping you warm in the chilly night. It made you look prettier than you already were. Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from pulling it down one your shoulders to leave kisses on your soft skin. It was in a dark corner of the theatre during intermission. He just couldn’t take the longing anymore and so he pulled you into the closest corner he could find to ravish you with gentle kisses and his big hand naturally sliding to the small of your back.

“Behave”, you told him as your eyes scanned the crowds of people scurrying around the luxurious building. Nobody seemed to notice or if they did, they acted like you were invisible.

“You shouldn’t have dressed this way then”, he whispered, “you make it hard to behave.”

You turned to him then, scanning your eyes over his body. He wore a black suit over a black button up. It was tailored to fit his figure perfectly and his long hair was styled out of his face. He looked to die for.

“I’m behaving too, aren’t I?”

His eyes lowered in begging then. He was such a natural at begging. You rarely find it in yourself to deny him.

“We could get outta here. I bet the second act’s gonna be just as boring”, he argued.

“You’ll manage”, you said and broke away from him to return to your seats. Tonight you wanted to deny him. It was all part of the plan.

Now you are here. Back in your hotel room with the blinds closed and the lights dimmed. You couldn’t even take one step and Jungkook was already kissing you, moaning needily as his hungry hands felt up your every inch.

Of course you had to show him what his ravenous hunger would result in. Get his needy hands under control and his hungry lips back to behaving. So you restrained his arms with his tie with the promise of stealing his words with your scarf.

“Still down to get your words stolen?” you ask him and let the scarf dance over his face.

“Yeah”, he sighs, tilting his head back and parting his lips as the soft fabric paints paths on his face. He is shivering like crazy, feeling charged in need.

“That’s the answer I like”, you say, “face me.”

He obeys with obedient eyes.

“Stay.”

“Okay”, he whispers.

You close the distance and place the scarf over his mouth.

“Wait.”

You pull it away again.

His face morphs into that of begging.

“One more kiss?” he asks, lifting his brows in a plea, “please?”

You smile fondly and take his chin between two of your fingers to pull him into a kiss. Jungkook moans, reaching for you only to get reminded that he was currently tied up. He wiggles then, sucking on your lower lip.

Enough. You break the kiss even if he whines for more.

“Please?” his breathy voice swirls over your lips, his eyes are lowered and gazing at your mouth.

“No. That should be enough”, you say and move away to place the scarf over his mouth.

Jungkook scowls, you snicker. He can frown all he wants, you won’t give in again.

You give the scarf a soft tug. He lets out a soft sound of approval, looking up at you with lust filled eyes. You have to get even closer to tie the knot behind his head. Jungkook’s devoted gaze doesn’t break. It only deepens. He is so mesmerised by you. His goddess. Beautiful and glowing like the sun. His heart is racing like crazy at the thought of placing his control into your soft palms. Truly, you’ve got him in a chokehold.

“Too tight?” you ask him as you fix the knot.

He shakes his head.

“Good.”

You finish it with a double knot, then dance your hands along his cheeks until you can cradle them and tilt his head up. He moans softly, following your movement willingly. His eyes race between yours, sparkling in devotion.

“You’re so handsome like this”, you say, tracing the hem of the scarf right under his eyes.

“Mhmh”, he lets out, pulling a fond chuckle to the surface.

You smile with your eyes, showing him your teeth. He thinks you have the prettiest teeth. He aches to have them mark his skin, just as he aches for your lipstick marks and the heaven of your fingertips.

You lean in, kissing his lips over the scarf. Jungkook tries to kiss you back, to feel you and taste the sweetness of your kiss. But to no avail. You have him tied up and denied of his paradise. You pull back with a soft hum and your thumb swiping over his covered lips.

“Cat’s got your tongue, mhm?”

Jungkook sags his shoulders, fluttering his lashes at you. He feels so droopy that it gets hard to sit up.

“Mhm, such a cutie”, you chuckle and place your hands on his chest. You give him a soft push.

Jungkook falls gladly, arching his back on impact as a muffled moan leaves him. His dark hair falls messily, looking like rivers of ebony on the pale sheets. He wiggles around for a bit to get his arms comfortable, then stays still with his devoted eyes glued to you.

You climb over his leg, kneeling on the mattress as your eyes run over his body. The impact made it so his shirt fell open. His lean, sculpted torso is on full display. His pierced nipples look delicious in the lights.

“Look at you”, you say.

Jungkook shifts, trying his hardest to look even more presentable to you.

“To think that you’re mine…” you trail off, lowering yourself so you could drag your lips over his neck.

Jungkook mewls, rolling his head to the side. You suck on his skin. It feels warm at first, intense next, before a sharp sting shoots through his skin. He moans, arching his back.

You release him with a bop of your lips, running your eyes over the purple bruise you left.

“I’m the luckiest woman. I really am”, you say and place a second bruise right above the first.

Jungkook sighs and moans, feeling dizzy. You think that you are lucky. It’s unbelievable to him, because Jungkook knows for a fact that he is the one who is lucky. Out of all the people on earth you picked him. Jungkook fucking existed for you the moment he laid eyes on you and he never thought it possible to be yours one day. And you like to argue that you are the lucky one. No, Jungkook knows that he is lucky. So, so lucky.

“Mhm mine”, you purr and kiss paths down to his pecs. You need him marked everywhere. Not just his neck but everywhere. You need him to know that he is owned each time he takes off his clothes. When he undresses in front of the bathroom mirror, you want his eyes to flit to the purple marks first and you want his skin to remember how it felt like to be claimed. He should run his fingers over the marks as the warm water trails down his body and you want him thinking that the sweetest thing to be is yours.

“Mine. All mine”, you whisper. You kissed your way to his left nipple after leaving bruises on his chest. His piercing feels warm under your lips. The faint taste of metal meets your tongue. You part your lips and bite. You take a good amount of flesh around his nipple between your teeth and tug on it.

Jungkook wails up in ecstasy, arching his back because nothing will ever prepare him for your teeth claiming him. His cock twitches and throbs in his pants, the desire to be utterly ruined grows. It hurts, but nothing hurts more than when you release his tender skin to move on to another spot.

He wants to beg, to plead, to ask for more but the scarf around his mouth muffles his words.

You purr against his skin as your lips look for a new spot to mark. He would be happy with any spot, but you are particular. Looking, exploring, feeling until you finally feel happy. Warmth first which ends in an intense sting and Jungkook’s cock throbbing in his pants. He writhes on the sheets, whimpering behind the scarf.

“You’re needy tonight”, you tease with a light chuckle on your lips and Jungkook can merely agree with another whimper and his legs opening on the sheets. He brushes against your leg that way, pulling your attention to it. You sit back on your heels.

You study the big bulge in his black slacks. His small waist, his big thighs and how quickly his stomach lifts and sinks in needy pants for air. He is so pretty.

“Want me to take those off for you?” you ask, playing with the button of his slacks.

He nods his head vigorously, lifting his hips off the mattress.

“Mhm, I like it when you’re eager”, you say and pull the button open. Next the zipper. Jungkook can barely function at the thought of being undressed. He helps you with slipping out his left leg, spreading it from himself once he is undressed. You pull his slacks down until they pool a little over his knee, then run your hands along his legs.

“Look at you. You’re so hard”, you taunt, ghosting your palm under his bulge.

Jungkook tries to move his hips into your touch, but fails miserably. He is left aching for you while you lower your lips to his exposed thigh. He put it so perfectly for you to explore. And so it begins again. Your touches, your kisses, your exploration. Jungkook feels dizzier with each hickey you leave on his skin and loses his sanity with every new bite mark you leave.

Soon you have him begging for more. Soon you have him writhing for your touch and whimpering behind the scarf. More than he has already been doing. Oh he sounds so desperate, so completely agonised. You lift your lips from his marked thigh, studying his face.

“What do you want?” you ask even if you know the answer.

“Mgmhgfmg”, he tries to talk, but it only comes out as unintelligible noises.

“I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

“Mhmhm”, he tries with more urgency, lifting his hips repeatedly.

“Aaah you want me to take those off?” you fake your sudden enlightenment and click your tongue, “why didn’t you say so sooner? Silly boy”, you say and hook your fingers in his briefs. You rip them off of him. Jungkook mewls, watching you ruin his briefs as if they were nothing. He drops his head and moans, thinking to himself that he won’t ever be able to escape you. You make sure of it day by day and seal his fucking fate each time you unravel him.

“There we go. That’s better”, you say and throw his ruined briefs to the side. They land on the sheets and look so perfectly placed. As if you hadn’t ruined them seconds ago.

You run your eyes over his newly exposed cock. It lies hard and flushed against his stomach, aching to be touched. No wonder he needed to be freed. It looks so painful.

“Does it hurt, mhm?” you taunt, guiding your fingers over his cock without ever touching him.

Jungkook swears he can feel your touch, panting heavily as the ghost of your fingers drags its claws down his aching length.

“Mhm-hmh”, he gets out, nodding his head vigorously.

“Tzt, poor boy”, you say with pity in your voice and despite that, you lift your hand again, never giving him what he craves most.

Jungkook huffs out air in desperate whines, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. You can’t see his desperate gaze as you are busy looking at his pretty hole. Soft. Flushed just like his cock. Jungkook likes to wax himself. Well, he has someone else doing it, but point is that he is obsessed with being smooth for you. Not a single strand of hair adorns his body, his skin aches to be messied by you.

You connect the pads of your fingers with his hole and draw circles.

“Mhhhhm”, Jungkook lets out, throwing his head back and rolling his hips into your touch. This feels so good. He ached for the first touch like winter aches for snow and now that he finally has it, Jungkook might actually burst in pleasure. It feels so good. So, so good. He keeps rolling his hips instinctively as he chases your fingers.

You chuckle, “so needy”, you taunt and apply just a little pressure on his rim, “and soft.”

“Mhmhmhm.”

“Speak up.”

Jungkook clenches his hole needily, begging you with foggy eyes.

“You don’t want it?” you act oblivious, retreating your touch.

“Mhm!” he lets out loudly and looks for your touch with squirmy hips.

“No?”

He shakes his head, fucking the air desperately.

“So you do want me to touch you?”

He nods his head, humming a yes as best as possible. His voice sounds so perfect like this.

“You really have to work on your communication, I never know what you want”, you taunt and place your fingers back against his hole.

Jungkook purrs happily, closing his eyes halfway. His cock twitches on his tummy, lifting of a few inches repeatedly. It leaks pretty droplets of desperation, showing you his gratefulness this way.

“So pretty for me”, you say under your breath and retreat your touch.

Jungkook begs instantly, squirming needily. You are so cruel. He could cry. He begged like you asked him to, tried to be as clear with his communication as he can in his current state and yet you still took your touch away. Jungkook wonders what he did to deserve such punishment tonight, begging as loud as his covered mouth allows him to. He even messes up the sheets as he digs his heels into the mattress to wiggle his hips even harder.

“Look at you. How needy can someone be?” you are taunting him, making it hurt even more.

“Eeeh, eeh, ee-eh”, he tries to say please but it only comes out as squeaks.

“Relax, I’ll be back soon”, you assure him and wrap your arms around his leg so you could hold it still and kiss his knee, “promise. Be patient, it’ll be worth it.”

Jungkook calms down even if he wants to continue to beg. You sound truthful however and he wants to be good for you. He loves being good for you.

“That’s better. I’ll be back soon”, you promise and turn to climb off the bed.

It doesn’t pass a lot of time, but it feels like eternity to Jungkook. He wants to think clear thoughts, get himself back in order, but he can’t. His mind is racing with one thought and one thought only. I need her back, please. Please, please, please. He needs you back for his own sanity.

The mattress dents next to his legs, then his pants suddenly get pulled down his leg. Jungkook lets it happen with a dizzy head, moaning needily when he feels your bite on his unmarked thigh seconds later. You bite hard and you bite deep. Jungkook fucks the air because of it, mewling your name even if the scarf muffles it.

“You’re cute”, you tease him and straighten back up. You are so nonchalant about the entire situation while Jungkook feels ruined. It ruins him even more that you are.

Jungkook wiggles on the sheets, looking at you as best as possible. You are still in your dress, presenting a black prostate toy in your hands. The nail polish matches with your dress, looking especially red against the dark shaft of the vibrator.

Jungkook mewls, clenching his hole.

“You know what I wanna do with that?”

He nods his head vigorously, opening his legs further.

“Do you want it?”

He swears he might pull a muscle in his neck if he has to nod his head any harder. Yes yes yes! Yes! Of course he wants it! Of course, of course, of course!

You give him a smile. There is some lipstick on your teeth because of all your biting. Jungkook thinks you are even prettier this way, moaning just for you as his body completely melts for you.

“Of course you do. You’re my needy man after all”, you say and caress his inner thigh.

Jungkook agrees with a mewl of your name. He is. He is your needy man and he is so proud to be.

You retreat your touch for a moment so you could lube up the toy. He is obsessed with the view. Your fingers look so sexy when they are wet from lube. He wants them around his throat or thighs or cock or waist. Anywhere really. Just fucking anywhere so he can feel owned by you. Even more owned than he already does.

You touch his rim. Jungkook closes his eyes and moans. So wet and gentle. He is owned. Finally he can feel it. He is your possession.

“I can’t finger you open tonight because of my acrylics. Is that too intense for you?” you make sure.

He shakes his head. He is so needy that he knows his unprepared hole will take the toy easily. He sometimes gets like this. When you’ve got him deep enough in subspace, he basically aches to have his hole filled. No preparation needed because everything else has already prepared him enough.

“Of course it isn’t. Why did I even ask?” you tease and chuckle. You connect the head of the toy with his hole.

Jungkook holds his breath. His heart might give up if he gets any more excited.

“Ready?”

He nods his head.

“Here it comes.”

The stretch is instant. His hole opens up so easily. Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face in ecstasy. Finally. He needed it so bad. He breathes quickly, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts.

“Would you look at that? Slipped right in. You needed it so bad, didn’t you?”

Jungkook nods his head, writhing sensually as his once empty hole gets filled to the brim. The toy is around two fingers thick and with a smooth surface. A faint curve presses the tip against his prostate, making sure that he gets stimulated where it feels the best. He is so obsessed with it. Which is why you and he took it with you on your city trip. He needed to know that if the chance shall arise, he can have his favourite toy. He is so happy about your planning now that it is finally put to use. It will never lose its spark. Jungkook feels paradisiacal with it inside.

The toy bottoms out. You trace his puffy rim, switching your eyes between his stuffed hole, his hard cock and his blissed-out face. He is breathing quickly, moving constantly because it is the only way for his body to handle what you give him.

“How’s that? Comfy?”

“Mh-hm”, he gets out and trembles just once. He buries his head deeper in the sheets, opening his legs further. It’s perfect. That’s what it is. Jungkook feels so good.

“That’s good”, you say, taking the remote control between your fingers.

Switch.

Jungkook grunts in surprise, following it up with an arch of his back and a high-pitched whimper. You keep the vibrations on the lowest level. The toy purrs quietly inside him, giving him slow waves of stimulation.

“Does this do something for you?”

He nods his head quickly, making the prettiest sounds. You love everything about Jungkook as your sub, but what you love most is how vocal and loud he always is. He is such a good, noisy toy. He really is.

“Of course it does”, you say and turn your back to him so you could get off the bed.

Jungkook lifts his head, following you with widened, confused eyes.

“Mhm?”

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m keeping it on”, you say and disappear in the bathroom. You keep the door open.

Jungkook mewls and keens fruitlessly, moving around the sheets until he has view of the bathroom. It is a very interesting bathroom as the wall separating it from the bedroom is made out of glass. Only the toilet area is separated by a wall, everything else is on perfect display to Jungkook.

You are looking back at him from behind the glass wall, currently taking off your jewellery while beside you on the counter, the remote control is laying.

Jungkook spills tears and lets out a soft sob. You are so cruel and perfect. You abandoned him, tied up and gagged. You left him with the vibrator on the faintest setting as if he wasn’t important. He feels like a toy that you grew bored of and it’s making him so dizzy that he actually starts to see you blurry.

Truth is, this is all part of your plan. Of course you haven’t grown bored of him. You are in a rush of ecstasy. Watching him writhe and gaze at you through the glass gets you off like nothing else. He looks so desperate and needy. The desire to turn up the vibrations of his toy is unbearable, but you know not to yet. You need to drag this out, get him so desperate that the only thing stopping him from screaming is the scarf over his mouth.

You keep a sharp eye on him through the reflection of the big mirror while Jungkook keeps looking at you with blurry vision. He watches as you finish taking off your jewellery and how you begin taking off your makeup. First your lips. Messy and red. Then your eyes. Dark and dishevelled. You part your lips and lean closer to the mirror to get everything. It results in your back to arch and for your ass to reshape the form of your dress.

Jungkook clenches around the toy, spilling on his stomach. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He thinks. Fuck he needs you to heighten the vibrations or else he might scream. He is so needy and what the toy is giving him is not enough. He needs more and he needs you and more and you and. And. He needs you back with him and to stop teasing. Please.

You move away from the mirror and discard the dirty make up wipe. You look at him again, ghosting your hand over the remote. Jungkook feels his stomach tighten and his lungs work quicker at the aspect of getting more. Ne needs it. More. More. More.

You pull your hand away.

Jungkook sobs softly, spilling tears. Please. More. Please more. It’s all he needs. Please? Maybe?

He begins clenching and relaxing his hole in hopes of moving the toy this way. It works just enough that the ache gets soothed to the point of electric warmth. It doesn’t hurt quite that much anymore. Jungkook squirms on the sheets, lowering his lids as it gets hard to stare. He doesn’t want to look away however because you are currently taking off your dress. You move your body sensually for it, opening the zipper slowly. Once open, you let the dress glide down your arms. It pools by your feet. Jungkook curses into his scarf gag, fucking the air desperately. Your lingerie hugs your curves just right, bringing out the addicting femininity of you. You’re his fucking goddess. You really are.

“Ahm!” he lets out as the toy inside him suddenly purrs louder. He whimpers, shaking on the sheets. You pressed the button, increased the vibrations and Jungkook has to pay the consequences. His legs begin trembling against his will, each second feels like heaven and hell at the same time. It is so, so close to being enough. Jungkook fucks the air repeatedly, grabbing a bundle of the sheets as best as his tied up arms allow him to.

He is so far gone that he can’t even see as you take off your lingerie and step into the shower. You don’t mind. It’s already enough to watch him writhe and shake. He is so lovely to look at. He is such a delight when he trembles. This strong, confident man on the sheets, shaking and squirming just for you. His needy sounds meet your eyes quietly. Distance makes it so. You don’t mind. It just means that you have to press the button one more time before you step into the shower and get your hands wet.

You press the button two times. Because you know the toy well and know exactly how many times you need to press the button the switch to Jungkook’s favourite setting. A strong, wave like pattern with one second of intense vibration at the end before it ebbs down again. It repeats over and over again. Jungkook arches off the sheets, drops again, arches again, drops, shakes. It is as if he was trapped in an endless fight with pleasure, writhing for mercy only you can give him. His noises meet your ears in clearer volume. He is moaning in his sweetest voice, following it up with needy mewls and ruined sobs. Lovely. This is so wonderful.

You place the remote on the corner of the counter and step into the shower. You keep your eyes on him as you wash yourself, running your hands over your own body in sensual touches. He turns you on so fucking good.

Jungkook has no idea what you have been up to ever since you took off your dress and those deep vibrations started. He has his eyes closed. Squeezed shut because it’s impossible to keep them open. It feels so good. So good that it borders too much. He can’t stop shaking, his neck is slowly starting to hurt because he keeps tensing in panicky attempts to stop those shakes. His stomach is so tense. He can feel every single muscle in it. He swears that he can even feel the muscles which are responsible for making his cock twitch. It feels so good. So good that it borders too much.

Jungkook moans because this is everything he can do and messes up the sheets as his legs kick against his will. The toy presses against his prostate. He always thinks that he isn’t a needy man, that he isn’t sensitive and doesn’t easily get ruined by sex. And you always, fucking always, prove him wrong. He is sensitive and this is easily ruining him. He is pulsating and convulsing around the toy, tensing his muscles even though it makes him so much tighter. Everything he is doing happens against his will. His body is slave to the pleasure and his mind is her hostage.

You turn off the water and get out of the shower, reaching for the towel. He is such a delight to watch. He is shaking so much at this point that you fear for his body. Poor man, he looks so vulnerable and fragile right now. It would be a shame if your finger slipped and oops.

Jungkook’s loud scream meets your ears. It is distorted and muffled by your scarf. You watch in addictive delight how he arches his back to its breaking point. His tied arms hold him up by his elbows, his shaking hands grip the sheets to the point his fingertips are pale. He shakes, shakes, shakes.

You watch with a dark smirk on your lips as your hands dry your own body. Look at him shake and shake and shake.

Suddenly he stills and drops into the sheets. His legs begin twitching uncontrollably, his noises become quiet again. He is squeaking and sobbing. In his shakes he rolled his head to the other side, so you can’t see his expression right now.

You abandon the towel by the sink and leave the bathroom with the remote in your hand.

“Forgive me for disappearing like that, but I-”, your words get cut short at the view of him.

His stomach is covered in his white cum, your pink scarf is soaked in his tears and drool. He is still shaking, crying desperate tears with squeezed shut eyes.

“Kook”, you gasp, “holy fuck, look at you. Look at the mess you made.”

Jungkook whimpers in the distinct way he does when he wants to communicate something. He looks at you with barely open eyes, moving his head in a way that lets you know he wants the scarf gone.

You climb onto the bed and tug it under his chin.

“Please”, he begs with trembling lips. His lower face is messy from his drool, “please turn it off. Please.”

“Fuck, you’re ruined”, you say and press the button which turns off the toy.

Jungkook drops in the sheets, grinding his teeth in relief. His body becomes useless instantly, no inch of muscle seems to work.

“Thank you”, he croaks and rolls his eyes back before closing them. He gulps and swallows heavily, fighting for air.

“God, look at you”, you say, running your hand over his cheek in soothing caresses, “you look ruined.”

He nods his head slowly.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah”, he whispers.

“You know that this was supposed to be foreplay, don’t you?”

He peels his eyes open halfway. They both show his utter exhaustion and his eagerness to please. You snicker, booping his flushed nose.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault that you cum too soon.”

“It wasn’t too soon. You stuffed me with a vibrator and then let me suffer with the best setting for too long”, he throws back even if his tongue is dragging the words.

You laugh and move closer until you can kiss his cheek. He sighs happily, leaning into the touch as best as possible. You pull back, gazing into his eyes.

“Still sounds like a You problem”, you tease, snickering mischievously when Jungkook furrows his brows. You trace the creases between his brows, feeling your heart flutter, “how about I untie your arms and then you can relax by having me sit on your face?”

“You’re my fucking goddess, holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out.

You laugh, “so that’s a yes?”

“Yes, holy fuck.”

“You’re cute. I’m not taking the toy out, by the way. Make with this information what you want.”

“Holy fuck, I’m actually gonna die in this hotel room, aren’t I?”

You peck his lips, pulling back with a playful grin. “Maybe.”

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