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By the time you reached the Gangnam clinic, you were damp from the rain, your umbrella was bent hopelessly out of shape, and your jacket clung stubbornly to your skin. The lobby smelled faintly of eucalyptus, its soft leather chairs and pale wood accents far too serene compared to the chaos you’d just sprinted through.
Behind the desk, the nurse barely looked up from her computer. Her name tag read Hyejin, the bold letters clipped neatly to her scrub top. “Name?” she asked flatly, voice as bored as her expression.
You gave it quickly, still catching your breath.
Her gaze flicked to the clock, then back to you. “You’re late.”
“Traffic,” you said, trying for a polite smile.
“Of course.” She slid a clipboard across the counter. “Fill this out. Don’t skip questions. Especially not the personal ones.”
You carried it to a chair and scribbled your way through the invasive checklist as quickly as possible. When you returned it, she scanned your rushed handwriting with one raised brow before gesturing toward the hall. “Exam room three. The doctor will be with you soon. Change into the gown- everything from the waist down off, socks can stay.”
The exam room was spotless, its citrus scent sharp against the sterile brightness. The chair sat waiting in the center, draped with fresh paper, stirrups gleaming under the fluorescent light. A poster on the wall cheerfully encouraged Fiber Is Your Friend!
On the counter sat a neatly folded gown. You set your bag down and exhaled before slipping out of your jeans and underwear, folding them carefully on the chair. The paper gown crinkled as you pulled it on, thin and loose, the open back a reminder of how vulnerable the whole setup was.
You sat on the edge of the exam chair, adjusting the gown around your thighs, knees pressed together, socks still visible below.
The door opened.
A man stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered in black scrubs that fit a little too well to be fair. Tattoos wound up his forearm, disappearing into the fabric. His dark hair was styled back, not long enough to tie but still loose enough to fall against sharp cheekbones, and a silver lip ring caught the light when he smiled.
It wasn’t the clinical, distant smile you’d expected. It was slow, crooked, just a little too amused.
“Miss Y/L/N?” His voice was smooth, confident.
“Yes,” you answered quickly.
He crossed the space between you, extending a gloved hand. “Doctor Jeon Jungkook.”
You shook it, his grip firm but unhurried, then he released to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm. His mouth curved, that lip ring glinting.
“You were late,” he observed, tone light, but with an unmistakable edge of humor.
“Seoul traffic,” you said.
“Mhm.” His eyes flicked briefly to your damp jacket folded on the counter, then to the gown wrapped awkwardly around you, before returning to your face. His brow lifted slightly. “Try to relax. You’ll enjoy this much more if you do.”
The words were delivered casually, clinically even, but the way he looked at you made it sound like anything but routine.
Jungkook flipped open the chart, scanning your rushed handwriting with leisurely interest. His brow arched almost immediately.
“Did you fill this out during an earthquake?”
Your head snapped up. “I was in a hurry.”
“Mhm.” His lips curved, the silver ring catching the light. “Remind me never to ask you to forge my signature. This is practically a crime scene.”
You stared at him, scandalized, but his eyes stayed on the page, entirely too entertained.
“Cycle details… fine. Medical history… fine. Activities…” His gaze lingered on your scrawl, unreadable, then he set the clipboard down with a dramatic sigh. “You know, I’m tempted to frame this. There’s abstract art, and then there’s whatever you’ve just created.”
Your jaw dropped. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I get that a lot.” He rolled his stool closer, smooth and unbothered, then leaned back slightly, gaze dropping in a slow sweep. The gown rustled as you shifted under the weight of it.
“Birth control?” he asked, tone suddenly professional again.
“The pill,” you answered quickly, relieved at a straightforward question.
His mouth curved, lip ring catching as his grin slid sharp. “Disciplined. I like that. Though if you ever forget…” His eyes flicked back up to yours, deliberately slow. “…you’d be trouble.”
The air shifted, heat rising, before he continued as if nothing had happened. His eyes paused, lingered- and then his grin sharpened.
“Interesting socks.”
You froze. Heat rushed straight to your cheeks.
His smirk widened as he tilted his head, studying the bright fabric peeking out below the hem of the gown. “Are those… cartoon bunnies? With little heart-shaped noses?”
“They’re comfortable,” you muttered, tugging your gown lower as if it might cover your ankles.
“Adorable,” Jungkook said smoothly. “Unexpected, but adorable. Definitely not clinic-appropriate, though.”
Your eyes snapped to his. “What exactly are clinic-appropriate socks?”
“I’ll let you know when I see them,” he replied without missing a beat.
You stared at him, speechless, while he looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Don’t look so defensive,” he added, his grin softening into something wickedly amused. “I’m not judging. Just making a note in your chart: Patient presents with questionable taste in footwear.”
Your mouth fell open. “You’re not actually writing that.”
“Of course not.” He tapped the tablet idly with one gloved finger, eyes glittering. “But I’ll remember it.”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” you shot back, flustered.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Relax. I’d never tell anyone else.” A pause, deliberate, his gaze lingering on your face before he added, “I’d just bring it up… every time I see you.”
Jungkook tugged his stool closer, the wheels squeaking softly against the tile. He adjusted his gloves with unhurried precision, each snap sharp in the quiet.
“Alright,” he said smoothly, “let’s get started. Slide down just a little. Feet in the stirrups.”
The gown rustled as you shifted, awkwardly following instructions. The metal was cold against your heels.
“Good,” Jungkook murmured, settling into position. His eyes flicked up, meeting yours over the edge of his lashes. “Now relax your knees. Open a bit wider for me.”
Your pulse jumped. He must have seen it, because his smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t look so tense. I’ll walk you through every step before I touch you. No surprises.” His voice dropped, velvet and low. “Unless you like surprises.”
Your breath caught, but he was already reaching for the tray beside him, choosing an instrument with easy confidence.
“This might feel a little cold,” he warned, his tone even, but then he added with deliberate calm: “I’ll be gentle… for the first time.”
You blinked at him, heat rushing to your face. “That’s not funny.”
“Who’s laughing?” Jungkook’s lips curved, the silver ring glinting. “I take my work very seriously.”
“Then stop talking like- like that,” you said, flustered.
“Like what?” His brows lifted innocently, though the look in his eyes was anything but. “I’m just telling you what to expect. It’s called good bedside manner.”
You gaped at him, caught between outrage and disbelief.
He leaned in just slightly, enough to make the air shift between you. “Deep breaths. You’ll enjoy this much more if you relax.”
The words landed heavy, deliberate. He waited, gaze steady on your face, clearly savoring your reaction.
You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself, but his smirk widened anyway.
“That’s better,” he said softly, almost approving. “See? You’re a quick learner.”
Jungkook rolled even closer, gloves flexing as he settled comfortably on his stool. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was sharp, deliberate. He glanced down at his tray, then back to you.
“Alright. I’m going to check a few things first,” he said, voice calm, steady. “It should be quick and painless.” Then his mouth curved, slow and deliberate. “Unless you prefer otherwise.”
Your breath caught, and he didn’t bother to hide his grin.
“Feet a little wider,” he instructed, tone deceptively smooth. “Perfect. Now- don’t move unless I tell you.”
Your eyes flew to his. “Why would you say it like that?”
“Like what?” His expression was all innocence, but the glint in his eyes betrayed him. “Clear instructions are important. You’d be surprised how often people squirm.”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to react, but he caught it instantly. His smirk deepened.
“See? Already nervous.” He leaned in slightly, gloves adjusting as though he had all the time in the world. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
The words hung heavy, suggestive, and he let the silence stretch before adding in a softer tone: “But only if you let me.”
You shifted against the paper lining, the sound crinkling loud in the quiet room. Jungkook’s gaze tracked the movement, patient and deliberate, then flicked back up to your face.
“Better,” he murmured. “Now stay still.”
He reached for an instrument, explaining each step with practiced ease, but his delivery made even the simplest phrases sound charged.
“This will be cold at first.” His eyes held yours as he added, “But you’ll get used to it quickly.”
“Stop talking like that,” you said, exasperated, though your voice wavered.
“Like what?” he asked again, that infuriatingly calm tone never slipping. “I’m being thorough. I’d hate to rush.”
The corner of his mouth tugged, lip ring glinting as his grin spread wider. “You look flushed. Too warm in here?”
You glared, but it only encouraged him.
“Deep breaths,” he coaxed. “Good girl.”
Your head snapped toward him, scandalized. “Did you just-?”
“Mhm.” His smirk was shameless now. “You’re doing well. Don’t tell me you didn’t like hearing it.”
Before you could respond, the door cracked open and Nurse Hyejin stepped inside, holding a chart. Her expression flicked from Jungkook to you, then to the way you were glaring daggers at him, and back again.
“Doctor,” she said blandly, handing him the file. “Blood work results.”
“Perfect, thank you,” Jungkook replied, voice smooth, not even pretending to look guilty.
Hyejin’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, then slid to you. Her lips twitched, not quite a smile, more like a warning: Good luck surviving him.
Then she was gone, the door closing behind her.
Jungkook chuckled under his breath, setting the file aside. “Don’t mind her. She’s very professional. Almost makes up for me.”
“Almost,” you muttered, earning another amused glance.
“Where were we?” He adjusted his gloves again, leaning closer. “Ah, yes. You staying perfectly still while I… take my time.”
You wanted to argue, but the words caught in your throat when his gaze lingered on your face, steady and unhurried.
“Relax,” he said softly, almost like a promise. “The first time is always the hardest. After that, it gets easier. Sometimes even enjoyable.”
Heat rushed through you, your pulse loud in your ears.
“You say things like that on purpose,” you accused.
“Maybe.” He grinned, lip ring catching the light again. “But you like it.”
“I do not.”
“You do.” His voice dropped lower, smoother. “Otherwise you wouldn’t still be looking at me like that.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He chuckled again, satisfied, then turned back to his tray, deliberately unhurried.
“Alright,” he said finally, tone back to clinical calm but his eyes still gleamed with wicked amusement. “Let’s begin for real this time. Try not to squirm too much.”
The chair’s stirrups squeaked when you adjusted, and his grin flickered wider at the sound.
“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “They always do that. Not your fault.” A pause, then softer, with that glint in his eyes, “Though they don’t usually squeak this much.”
Your jaw tightened. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Of course I am.” He tilted his head, gaze steady, the lip ring catching the light as he smiled. “You’re very expressive. Makes my job easier.”
He picked up an instrument, holding it in one gloved hand, but his eyes never left your face. “Alright. Cold at first. Deep breaths for me.”
The gown rustled as you shifted nervously. “Cold I can handle. It’s your commentary that’s the problem.”
“Mhm.” His smirk deepened, voice low and deliberate as he leaned closer. “Most people say they can handle it until I start. Then they forget how to breathe.”
You swallowed hard. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” he countered, lips curving. “I’m preparing you. That’s my job.”
Your glare did nothing to slow him down. He was entirely too composed, too calm, as if he had all the time in the world to toy with you.
“Alright,” he said again, voice smooth as velvet. “Little pressure here.” He paused, eyes flicking up to yours, and added softly: “Tell me if it’s too much. I’ll ease up.”
Your pulse skipped.
His hand moved with steady precision, professional, careful but his tone? Wicked. “Good. You’re doing well. Not squirming nearly as much as I expected.”
You stared at the ceiling. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet here you are.” He smiled, slow and smug. “Legs open, following my instructions perfectly.”
Heat burned your cheeks. “You’re supposed to be professional.”
“I am,” he said easily, adjusting his grip. “This is the most professional I’ve been all week.” A beat. “Though I admit, you’re making it a little difficult.”
You turned your head sharply, scandalized. “Excuse me?”
He raised one brow, grin spreading. “You’re flushed, biting your lip, glaring at me like you’d like to throw something. Hard not to notice.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Maybe.” He leaned back just slightly, gloves flexing, his gaze shamelessly steady on your face. “But you’re still doing exactly what I ask. Which means you don’t really mind.”
You had no response for that, and he seemed delighted.
“Deep breaths,” he coaxed again, his tone dipping lower, smoother. “That’s it. You’re a natural.”
The words sank in too easily, his voice wrapping around them like something more intimate than it had any right to be.
“Almost done,” he murmured, pulling back just slightly. His gloves snapped softly as he adjusted them again, gaze never leaving yours. “See? Not so bad. You handled me well.”
“Handled you?” you repeated, incredulous.
“Handled my exam,” he corrected smoothly, though his grin gave him away. “Don’t twist my words.”
“You did that yourself!”
His smirk widened, completely unbothered. “Mhm. And you liked it.”
Before you could fire back, he snapped off one glove with a sharp tug, then the other, tossing them neatly into the bin. The sound was final, but his eyes lingered on you, amusement sparking like static in the air.
“Good job,” he said softly, voice carrying that same wicked undertone. “You survived your first appointment with me. Though next time…” He let the pause stretch, lips curving into a slow, devastating smile. “…I can’t promise I’ll be this gentle.”
The silence after his words stretched, charged. His smirk lingered, slow and unapologetic, as if he knew exactly what he’d done.
You managed a shaky breath, sitting a little straighter in the chair, the paper gown rustling against your skin. “That’s… not something you should say to a patient.”
“Maybe not.” Jungkook’s eyes held yours, steady, amused. Then, with deliberate calm, he leaned back on his stool, “But it’s true.”
Your pulse jumped. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I hear that a lot,” he replied smoothly, discarding the gloves into the bin. Then he rose, stretching to his full height, and for a moment the easy confidence in his posture made you forget this was supposed to be routine.
He picked up his tablet, scrolling through the notes he’d made. “Everything looks good. No concerns.” His voice was back to clinical calm, but the curve of his mouth betrayed him. “You did well.”
“That sounded way too smug,” you muttered, sliding off the chair and tugging the gown tighter around you.
“It was a compliment.” He glanced up, lip ring glinting as his grin tugged wider. “Don’t look so suspicious.”
You gathered your clothes from the counter, moving behind the screen to change. The paper gown crumpled as you shrugged it off, relief flooding you as denim and cotton replaced the thin fabric. When you stepped back out, Jungkook was waiting, tablet in hand, gaze lifting immediately to sweep over you before settling on your face.
“Much better,” he said lightly.
You crossed your arms. “That’s not in the medical script.”
“Neither are half the things I say,” he admitted easily, setting the tablet aside. “Keeps things interesting.”
“Interesting isn’t exactly what I came here for.”
He tilted his head, watching you. “Maybe not. But you’ll remember this appointment, won’t you?”
You stared at him, searching for a comeback, but he only smiled- calm, patient, infuriatingly confident.
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “You’re free to go. Unless you have questions.”
“Not really.”
“Good.” He slid the chart back into its folder with neat precision. “Then I’ll see you at your next appointment.”
The words were routine, but his tone was anything but. His smile tugged slow at one corner, suggestive enough to make your pulse trip all over again.
“In six months,” you clarified quickly.
“Or sooner,” he countered easily, already turning back toward his desk. “Up to you.”
═══════
A week later
The bass pulsed through the club, low and steady, vibrating beneath the soles of your shoes. Lights strobed overhead in soft bursts of color, catching on sequins and glass, washing over the packed floor in shades of blue and pink. The air was warm, loud with music and chatter, the kind of place where the week could be shaken off in a blur of drinks and laughter.
Your friend Mira tugged you closer to the bar, grinning as she leaned over the counter to flag the bartender. “One round to start the night off right,” she shouted over the music.
You laughed, nodding as you smoothed your skirt, letting the energy of the place sink into your skin. After the week you’d had, a night like this felt overdue. The last thing on your mind was the clinic.
Until a familiar voice slid through the noise.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
You froze. The bass thrummed, the crowd pressed in, but everything stilled as you turned.
He stood just a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar. No scrubs this time- a fitted black t-shirt that clung to his frame, ripped black jeans, and boots that looked built for trouble. Silver chain glinting at his throat, tattoos curling down his arm, hair pushed back, lip ring shining under the neon lights.
Jeon Jungkook.
Your stomach dropped and flipped in the same instant.
“What- ” You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What are you doing here?”
He arched a brow. “It’s a club. What are you doing here?”
“Drinking with my friends,” you shot back.
“Same.” He lifted his glass, ice clinking softly. His grin tugged slow, unhurried. “Small city, huh?”
You opened your mouth, then shut it again. Of all the people to run into- of course it had to be him. Out of context, out of scrubs, impossibly more dangerous.
Your friends noticed your distraction, Mira nudging you with a sly grin. “You know him?”
Jungkook answered before you could. “We’ve met.” His gaze lingered on you, sharp and amused. “Haven’t we?”
The double edge in his tone wasn’t lost on anyone. Mira’s brows lifted, curiosity sparking, but she was swept away by another friend before she could press.
You turned back to him, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he said smoothly, sipping his drink.
“You didn’t have to.”
His grin widened, lip ring catching the light. “You’re jumpy. Guilty conscience?”
You crossed your arms. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he said, shifting closer through the crowd, lowering his voice so only you could hear, “you’re not walking away.”
Your pulse skipped. The music swelled, the bass vibrating between you, but all you felt was the weight of his gaze, steady and unbothered.
“Relax,” he added, tone dipping softer. “I’m not your doctor anymore.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I transferred your care to a colleague this morning.” His smile was easy, confident. “Strictly professional. Boundaries intact.” He tilted his head, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Which means I can talk to you however I want now.”
Your breath caught. “You already did that.”
“True,” he admitted with a low chuckle. “But now I don’t have to feel bad about it.”
Your pulse skipped, and his grin widened like he’d caught it.
The bartender came over, and before you could speak, Jungkook tapped the bar lightly. “Another for her.”
“I didn’t ask-”
“You didn’t have to.” His tone was calm, unbothered. “Consider it… an apology.”
“For what?”
“For tormenting you last week.” His eyes glinted as the bartender set another glass in front of you. “Though judging by how red your face got, I’d say you didn’t entirely hate it.”
You nearly choked again. “You’re unbelievable.”
He raised his own glass in a mock salute. “You keep saying that. I think you mean it as a compliment.”
“You’d think that.”
“I know that.” He sipped, gaze steady over the rim. “You’re still standing here.”
You shifted your weight, trying to look nonchalant, but his smirk only deepened, as if your every move amused him.
“So tell me,” he said after a beat, voice low, “how’s the… recovery?”
You blinked. “Recovery?”
“From your appointment.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Legs sore from holding still that long?”
Your drink nearly slipped from your hand. “You can’t just-”
“I can,” he interrupted smoothly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “And I did.”
You gaped at him, scandalized.
“Relax,” he added, lips curving. “You handled it beautifully. I’m impressed.”
“Stop talking like that.”
“Why?” His grin widened. “You blush every time.”
You pressed your lips together, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you. Your chest tightened. The music surged around you, neon lights flashing against his tattoos, his grin carved sharp under the glow.
“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.
“Again,” he countered softly, “you’re still here. Drinking with me. Letting me ruin your night in the best possible way.”
You exhaled sharply, refusing to answer. He smiled, satisfied,“Good,” he said, watching you over the rim of his glass. “Stay.”
Jungkook leaned closer at the bar, the space between you shrinking until you felt the edge of his shirt brush your arm. Your friends were still nearby, whispering behind their hands, their eyes darting between you and him with shameless curiosity.
“Your friends are staring,” he murmured, the words warm against your ear.
“They’re nosy,” you said quickly, refusing to look over.
“They’re jealous,” he corrected smoothly, letting his hand brush across your back as he shifted to flag the bartender. His palm lingered at your waist- light, casual, but unmistakably there. “And they should be.”
The bartender leaned over, and Jungkook bent with him, his shoulder grazing yours, his voice low as he ordered another round. The chain at his neck glinted when he turned his head, the scent of his cologne cutting clean through the press of the crowd.
When he straightened again, his lips curved. “You flinch every time I touch you.”
“I don’t,” you argued, though your voice lacked conviction.
He reached up lazily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle grazing your jaw. “Yes, you do. Every. Single. Time.”
Heat flared through you, and his grin widened, smug and devastating.
The drinks arrived, condensation slick against the glasses, and he slid one toward you. “Drink.”
You raised a brow. “Bossy.”
“Efficient,” he countered, leaning back slightly but his hand never left your waist. “Besides, you listen when I tell you to.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Mira suddenly appeared at your side, her eyes wide with mischief. “Are you going to introduce us?”
Jungkook didn’t miss a beat. “Jungkook,” he said easily, extending his free hand with a polite nod. “Friend of hers.”
“Friend,” Mira echoed, eyes narrowing, suspicious and intrigued all at once.
He smiled, the lip ring glinting, and turned his attention right back to you, effectively dismissing Mira without a second thought.
“You’re unbelievable,” you hissed under your breath.
He smirked, dipping his head closer until his lips hovered a dangerous inch from your ear. “You’re still letting me touch you.”
Your breath caught. The club started to fill more, the crowd pressed tighter, and his hand at your waist anchored you against the bar.
“Relax,” he murmured, voice dark with amusement. “I’ll behave… in public.”
Your pulse stumbled. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to.” He leaned back just enough to catch your gaze, his smirk sharper now. “You’re flushed again. Same look you had in the clinic. Familiar, isn’t it?”
You nearly choked on your drink, and his low chuckle rumbled between you, satisfied.
Then his hand slid lower at your waist, fingers pressing lightly against the curve of your hip. The movement was subtle, hidden by the crowd, but the heat of it burned through fabric. He bent closer, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he spoke.
“Careful,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow line at your side. “If your friends weren’t watching, I’d already have you against this bar.”
Your knees weakened. “You-”
“What?” He didn’t move back, his breath fanning warm against your skin. “I already told you I’d behave. This is me behaving.”
You swallowed hard, the glass trembling slightly in your hand. Across the bar, Mira’s eyes widened, her expression caught between scandalized and gleeful.
Jungkook only smirked, dragging his knuckle just beneath your chin to tip your face up toward his. “Relax,” he repeated softly, voice threaded with promise. “You’ll get used to me eventually.”
The bass of the song swelled around you, lights flashing colors against glass, against ink, against the faint gleam of his chain. His hand lingered at your waist, steady, claiming space that shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did.
“Come with me,” Jungkook said finally, low enough that it curled against your ear.
Before you could argue, he straightened and guided you away from the bar with an easy pressure at the small of your back. Your friends called after you, but the crowd swallowed their voices, and soon the press of bodies gave way to a quieter corner near the far wall.
It was dimmer here, the music still loud but less suffocating. You exhaled, about to speak, but he beat you to it.
“You’re tense again.” His smirk lingered, though softer now, less mocking and more deliberate. “I thought we talked about that.”
“Easy for you to say,” you replied, leaning back against the wall. “You’re not the one being manhandled in public.”
His brow arched. “Manhandled?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” His eyes glinted, amusement tugging at his lips. “But I’d call it something else.”
“Of course you would.”
He shifted closer, one hand braced against the wall beside your head. The chain at his throat brushed against his shirt as he tilted his head, studying you in the glow of pulsing lights.
“You keep glaring at me,” he murmured. “But you don’t pull away.”
Your chest tightened. “You’re… difficult to ignore.”
“That’s not a complaint,” he said, voice dipping lower.
You glanced away, the neon catching across your face, but his hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw lightly, coaxing your eyes back to him. “Don’t look away from me,” he said softly.
The air shifted. The grin faded into something heavier, intent burning low in his gaze.
“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” Jungkook admitted, voice rougher now, stripped of its teasing lilt. “How flustered you got every time I touched you.” His thumb brushed your cheek, warm and steady. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? I can’t get you out of my head.”
The words left you frozen, heat rushing through your veins. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his hand slid to cradle your jaw fully, tilting your face up as he leaned closer.
The first brush of his mouth was slow, deliberate, testing. You froze, every nerve alight, the world narrowing to the heat of his lips, the faint press of his chain against your chest, the hum of bass somewhere distant.
When you didn’t move, he pulled back just slightly, breath mingling with yours. “Too much?” he asked quietly, though hunger burned in his eyes.
Your chest rose sharply. After a long beat, you shook your head.
That was all he needed.
The second kiss was different- deeper, urgent, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that stole your breath. One hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other framed your face, thumb stroking your cheek as though grounding you there with him.
You melted after a heartbeat, lips parting under his, heat curling through your chest as you kissed him back. Shyness cracked, replaced by something raw and unrestrained, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound lost in the music but vibrating through you. His lips moved with absolute certainty, every tilt and press deliberate, desperate, like he’d been holding this back far too long.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours, his chest rising fast. The lip ring glinted, damp from the kiss, his grin unsteady now, wrecked in the best way.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself. “God, you’re beautiful. I’m ruined.”
Your heart stuttered, heat rushing all over again. His forehead lingered against yours, his breath uneven, that cocky smirk now softened by something far more raw.
But when your lips parted again, uncertain but wanting, Jungkook surged forward. The kiss deepened instantly- no hesitation, no testing this time. His mouth moved over yours with fierce precision, every tilt of his head deliberate, every press of his lips saying mine.
You gasped softly, and he seized the sound, slipping his tongue against yours in a slow, claiming slide. The taste of whiskey clung faintly to his mouth, sharp and intoxicating, and you melted before you could think.
His hand at your jaw slid to cradle the back of your neck, holding you steady as he angled the kiss deeper. The other pressed firm at your waist, tugging you flush against him until there was no space left. His thumb dragged in a lazy circle at your hip, heat searing through fabric, anchoring you in place.
The wall was cool at your back, but he was all heat, caging you there with his body. Each brush of his lips was harder now, hungrier, as though a week of restraint was spilling out all at once.
When he pulled back for a second, just enough for breath, his mouth hovered at the corner of yours, his words rough. “You taste better than I imagined.”
Your chest stuttered. “You’ve imagined this?”
“Every fucking day since the clinic.” His thumb brushed your lower lip, swollen from his kiss. His grin was wrecked, greedy. “And you’re better than every version in my head.”
The next kiss was messier, deeper, his tongue teasing against yours before retreating, drawing you to chase him. His low groan vibrated against your mouth when you did, approval rumbling through him.
You stiffened at the sudden intensity, overwhelmed, but his hand at your nape squeezed gently, grounding. “Relax,” he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse. “Don’t hold back. Not with me.”
Your hesitation cracked and you gave in, kissing him back harder, lips parting to meet his with equal heat. His responding growl was soft but devastating, his mouth crashing back onto yours with a hunger that made your knees tremble.
Your fingers slid into his hair now, tugging lightly as he angled your head for a deeper kiss. The silver ring at his lip brushed against yours with every movement, a cool shock against the heat, a reminder of who it was- this cocky, tattooed man who had tormented you in the clinic and was now unraveling you in a dark corner of a club.
Jungkook pressed closer, his chest flush with yours, his thigh shifting between your legs to pin you gently against the wall. The movement was subtle, hidden by the crowd, but it made your breath falter, your body tightening at the sudden closeness.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, lips dragging down to your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot beneath your ear. His teeth grazed lightly, then his tongue soothed, and you nearly whimpered.
“Jungkook-”
“Say my name again,” he growled softly, lips ghosting over your skin. “Say it when I’m kissing you like this.”
Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as he nipped lightly at your throat. “Jungkook-”
His laugh was low, dark, vibrating against your skin as he returned to your mouth, capturing it in another searing kiss.
This one was pure possession- his tongue sweeping against yours, his hand sliding lower at your waist, fingertips grazing the curve of your hip. He pressed closer still, groaning softly into your mouth when your body yielded to his.
Every kiss was different: slow, then rough, teasing then demanding, until you were left dizzy, your lips swollen, your heart hammering like you’d run miles.
Finally, he broke away, lips slick, eyes heavy-lidded and burning under the neon light. His thumb stroked along your jaw as he breathed, chest rising fast.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he said, almost reverent, before his smirk returned- wrecked, cocky, absolutely addicted. “And I can’t wait to let you.”
Your lips were still tingling when Mira suddenly reappeared, grabbing your arm with wide, gleeful eyes. “What did I miss? No- don’t tell me. Just come dance!”
You opened your mouth to protest, but she was already tugging you toward the floor, the music pounding harder, lights strobing across the crowd.
When you glanced back, Jungkook was watching, his grin lazy, his gaze locked on you like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t stay in the corner. Of course he didn’t. Within seconds he was cutting through the crowd, slipping in behind you with unhurried confidence, his presence pressing against your back before you’d even fully turned.
“Thought you’d lost me?” His voice curved hot against your ear, his chest brushing yours as the beat rolled through the floor.
You swallowed hard. “You don’t give people much chance to.”
“Good.” His hand slid low to your waist, firm and steady as he pulled you flush against him. “I don’t like giving chances.”
The music shifted- slower, heavier, the kind of bass that made bodies move whether they wanted to or not. Mira winked, already disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone with him in the crush of heat and sound.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. His thigh pressed between yours, his hips rolling with the rhythm, his grip at your waist tightening until your body moved with his.
You stiffened at first, overwhelmed, but his mouth dipped to your ear, his breath hot. “Relax. Let me show you how it feels when you stop fighting me.”
The words sank deep, and your resistance faltered. His chest curved against your back, his hips grinding in time with the music- and then you felt it. Hard, undeniable, pressing against you with every shift.
Your breath stuttered. “Jungkook-”
“Mhm.” His chuckle was low, vibrating through your spine. “Feel that?”
Heat flared, your legs tightening instinctively.
“That’s what you do to me,” he whispered, his voice dark, filthy, only for you. “One week of waiting, and I’m already hard just from kissing you.”
You nearly buckled, but his grip at your hip kept you steady, his thumb pressing slow circles into the bone.
“Fuck,” he groaned softly, dragging his mouth along the curve of your neck, not kissing, just letting his lips brush heat over skin. “If this wasn’t a club, I’d have you up against a wall already.”
Your knees weakened. “You can’t-”
“I can.” His teeth grazed your ear, his hips grinding harder now, deliberate, making sure you felt every inch of his arousal. “But I won’t. Not yet. I want you begging first.”
The words shot fire straight through you, and your body betrayed you, arching back into him. His laugh was low, wrecked, pure satisfaction.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl.”
The music got louder, crowd pressing tighter, but you barely felt it. All you felt was him. His hand sliding higher along your side, palm brushing the curve of your breast before dragging back down again, not quite touching, just enough to leave you aching.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled against your ear, hips still rolling with steady control. “Do you have any idea how many men in this room are staring at you right now? And do you know what they see?”
Your breath caught. “What?”
“Mine.” His lips curved against your neck, smug and hungry. “They see mine.”
The word sank into you like a brand, and before you could catch your breath, his hand slid lower, over your hip, down toward the curve of your ass, gripping firmly enough to make you gasp. His hips ground harder, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of his arousal through the layers of fabric between you.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice gravel against your skin. “You have no idea how badly I want to ruin you right here. Against this wall. Bent over the bar. Let them all watch me take what’s mine.”
Heat shot through you, your body pressing back into him, shameless now.
He groaned low, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone seeing you come apart on my cock.”
“Jungkook-”
“Mhm.” His tongue swept slowly along your neck, then back to your ear. “Say yes. Say you’ll let me show you.”
Your breath stuttered. “Show me…?”
“How much you’re mine.” His hand tightened at your waist, grinding you harder against him. “Let me take you home, baby. Let me fuck you until you can’t even think of anything else.”
Your knees threatened to give, his words slamming into you harder than the bass vibrating through the floor.
“You want that, don’t you?” he whispered, his mouth hot against your skin. “You want to feel me everywhere. You want me to stretch you open, to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”
A soft sound escaped your throat before you could stop it, swallowed instantly by the pounding music.
“Fuck,” he groaned, hips rolling again, harder. “That’s the sound I wanted. So pretty. So needy. That’s my girl.”
You turned, dizzy, pressing your forehead briefly against his chest, overwhelmed by the heat of him, the filth of his voice, the relentless grind of his body. His hand slid under your chin, lifting your face so his gaze could pin you in place. His pupils were blown, his smirk dark and wrecked.
“Say the word,” he murmured. “Say yes, and I’ll get us out of here right now. Cab’s waiting, my place five minutes away.” His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, swollen from his kiss earlier. “I’ll show you just how fucking good it feels to be mine.”
Your chest rose sharply, words caught at the edge of your tongue.
Finally, you nodded. “Yes.”
His grin was devastating, victorious. “Good girl.”
He laced his fingers with yours and tugged you through the crowd, not bothering to look back. The heat of the club gave way to the cool night air, neon spilling across wet pavement, the bass still vibrating faintly from inside. A cab idled at the curb, and he opened the door with casual confidence before sliding in beside you, his thigh pressed firm against yours.
The cab door shut with a solid thud, sealing you both inside. Neon lights streaked across the windows as the driver pulled away from the curb, the hum of the engine mixing with the faint bass still echoing from the club.
Jungkook sat too close- deliberately close- his thigh pressed against yours, heat radiating through denim. His arm draped across the back of the seat, casual to anyone glancing in, but his other hand slid down slow, brushing against your shoulder, your arm, until his fingers curled deliberately around your thigh.
He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not,” you whispered, though your voice betrayed you.
“Mhm.” His thumb stroked higher, skimming the hem of your skirt. “Liar.”
Your breath caught as his hand slid further, warm fingers teasing along bare skin until they reached the edge of your underwear. His grin ghosted against your cheek when you stiffened.
“Relax,” he murmured. “Driver can’t see a thing.” His thumb pressed lightly against the thin fabric, just enough to make your stomach clench. “And you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?”
Heat flared through you. “You can’t-”
“I can,” he whispered, the words low and wrecked. “And I will.”
His fingers traced lazy patterns over the damp fabric, not rushing, just enough pressure to make you bite down on your lip. Each stroke was maddening, deliberate, his smirk curling when your thighs pressed together in reflex.
“Don’t hide from me,” he growled softly, spreading his fingers to coax your legs apart. “Let me feel you.”
Your pulse thundered as his touch grew firmer, sliding against your clothed slit, teasing with every pass. The vibration of the cab over the road made each movement sharper, more unbearable.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “So wet already. You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to answer. His low chuckle rumbled through you.
“I’ll take care of you when we get home.” His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing small circles against your clit that had your hips twitching despite yourself. “But for now, I want you squirming on this seat, thinking about how I’m going to fuck you until you forget your own name.”
Without warning, he slipped the edge of your underwear aside, his fingers finding slick heat. A sharp breath tore from your lips as one finger slid inside you, his thumb never leaving your clit. The motion was controlled, shallow, deliberate- enough to make your walls clench around him, enough to have your thighs trembling.
“God, you’re tight,” he whispered, voice wrecked but low, careful for only you to hear. “So fucking perfect for me. Can you feel how badly I want to bury myself here?” His finger curled slightly, stroking that spot inside, while his thumb circled your clit in steady rhythm.
Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist, but not pulling him away- just holding, grounding yourself against the onslaught. He noticed. Of course he did. His grin widened, wicked and triumphant.
“That’s it,” he purred. “Hold on to me. I’ll give you more to hold onto soon.”
His finger curled deeper, stroking hard against that spot inside you as his thumb circled your clit in merciless rhythm. Your breath hitched, thighs clamping around his wrist, but he only chuckled, low and dark.
“Fuck, baby- your pussy’s gripping me like it already knows who I belong to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers, aren’t you?”
You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, your hand trembling against his wrist as your body arched into the seat.
“Don’t fight it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you. Let me ruin you right here. Imagine the driver glancing back and seeing you spread open, falling apart for me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The filthy words tore through you, your body tightening, hips rocking helplessly into his hand as the pressure built unbearably fast.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled, pace never faltering. “So fucking wet, so close- give it to me. Let go. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Your walls fluttered hard around him, the edge cresting, release right there-
And suddenly, his hand was gone.
The loss was brutal, leaving you throbbing, desperate, your breath ragged in the silence he left behind. He sat back smoothly, sliding his fingers from your soaked heat like nothing had happened, casually adjusting the chain at his throat.
The driver pulled up in front of a sleek apartment building, headlights washing over glass and steel. Jungkook tossed a few bills forward, his other hand finding yours with ease.
“Come on,” he murmured, tugging you out of the cab, his smirk sharp in the glow of the streetlight. “Let’s finish this properly.”
He led you through the lobby with effortless confidence, nodding to the night guard like he hadn’t just had his fingers inside your pussy in the backseat of a cab. The elevator doors slid open, and as soon as they closed behind you, his mouth was back on yours- hot, urgent, desperate, like he’d been starving for it all along.
His kiss was different now, unrestrained, tongue sweeping against yours like he couldn’t get enough. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, while the other slid down to your ass, gripping hard, pulling you flush against the thick line of his body.
You gasped into him, and he swallowed the sound greedily, his teeth catching your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. His groan vibrated through your chest as his hand kneaded your ass, fingers digging in possessively.
Your own hands buried in his hair, dark strands slipping between your fingers as you tugged, earning another guttural groan from deep in his throat. He pressed you back into the mirrored wall of the elevator, his hips grinding into yours, making you feel the brutal evidence of his arousal through denim.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered against your mouth, lips slick and swollen. “You drive me insane.” His teeth grazed along your jaw, then down to the hollow of your throat, sucking lightly at the skin before nipping hard enough to make you gasp. “Can’t keep my hands off you.”
His palm slid higher, brushing the side of your breast through your top, his thumb flicking over your nipple. Even through the thin fabric, the sensation had you arching into his touch, a strangled moan slipping from your lips.
“Yeah,” he groaned, his grin wrecked against your skin. “That’s mine. Every fucking sound you make tonight is mine.”
The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open, but Jungkook didn’t let go. His grip on your waist was firm as he tugged you down the hall, fumbling his keys into the lock with his free hand. The door swung open, and he pushed you inside with effortless strength.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, he spun you and pinned you hard against the wall, his body caging yours. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, his lip ring glinting under the low light of his apartment.
“Fuck,” he growled, voice low and filthy. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Do you have any idea how badly I want to bend you over every surface in this place and fuck you until you can’t fucking walk?”
Your breath caught, heat flooding through you so violently your knees nearly gave out.
He smirked, satisfied at the sight, then crashed his mouth back onto yours, the kiss hot and devastating, his tongue forcing its way in like he owned every part of you already.
His mouth was relentless, lips bruising against yours, tongue stroking deep, claiming you. His hands roamed like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you most- cupping your ass again, sliding up your side, squeezing your breast through your shirt, then tangling back into your hair to tug you against him.
Your gasp broke into his mouth when he ground his hips into yours, the hard length of him pressing perfectly between your thighs. He groaned at the contact, rutting once more with slow, filthy precision that had your whole body trembling.
“Feel that?” he muttered against your lips, his breath hot, wrecked. “That’s how fucking desperate I am for you. Been hard since the second I walked into that exam room.”
You moaned softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders. He grinned against your mouth, shameless and cocky, then dragged his lips down to your throat. His teeth scraped lightly before biting just enough to make you gasp again.
“That’s it,” he growled, sucking at the spot until heat bloomed beneath your skin. “I want marks on you. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
His fingers slid under the hem of your shirt, palms hot against bare skin as he shoved it higher, exposing you to the cool air of his apartment. His thumb flicked across your nipple again, this time directly, and your back arched, a strangled sound slipping from your lips.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice filthy. “These tits- so perfect. Can’t wait to have my mouth on them.”
You whimpered, your knees weakening, but his body pinned you tight against the wall, holding you steady as his other hand slid lower, tugging your skirt up to your waist.
“I should rip this off you,” he muttered, lips brushing against your ear as his hand slipped between your thighs. “Should ruin you right here, make you scream loud enough for the whole building to hear.”
His fingers pressed against your damp underwear, rubbing hard enough to make you gasp. He chuckled darkly, nipping at your ear. “Still so wet for me. You’ve been like this since the cab, haven’t you? Fuck, baby, you’re soaking.”
You writhed helplessly against him, your hands clutching his shirt. He hissed at the sensation, grinding into you harder, his cock straining against his jeans.
“You feel that?” he whispered, his tone wrecked now. “That’s yours. Every inch. I’m gonna split you open on it, fuck you stupid until you can’t think about anything but me.”
His mouth found yours again, the kiss messy, teeth clashing as his fingers pressed harder against your clothed slit. His hips rolled in perfect rhythm, cock grinding into you with filthy precision, dragging broken sounds from your throat.
“God, you’re hot,” he groaned against your lips. “So fucking hot. I could lose my mind over you.”
His mouth was feverish against yours, tongue claiming, teeth scraping, while his hand slid lower, tugging your panties aside with brutal impatience. His fingers found you easily, slipping against soaked heat, pressing inside without hesitation.
You gasped, your back arching against the wall as he drove one finger deep into your cunt, curling deliberately, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit.
“Fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, lips slick against yours. “You’re so fucking wet. I barely touched you and you’re dripping for me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, hips jerking against his hand as he pumped steadily, curling harder each time, hitting that spot inside that made your knees buckle.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he muttered, watching your face with hooded eyes as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Take it for me. Such a good girl.”
A broken moan tore from your lips.
He grinned, triumphant, then slid in a second finger, stretching you wider, working you open with deliberate precision. “Fuck, baby- tight as hell. Can’t wait to feel this around my cock.”
Your body convulsed, hips rocking helplessly into his hand. The wet sounds of his fingers pumping filled the air between your ragged breaths.
“Look at you,” he whispered, his grin wrecked. “Grinding on my fingers like you’re desperate for it. You want more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you gasped, the word tumbling out before you could stop it.
“Yes what?” His thumb flicked harder across your clit, his fingers pumping faster. “Say it.”
“Yes- Jungkook- please- ”
His grin sharpened. “Please what?”
“Please- give me more”
He groaned, deep and wrecked, his forehead falling briefly against yours. “Fuck, baby. Say it again.”
“Please fuck me!”
That broke him. With a guttural sound, he yanked his fingers from you, ignoring your strangled whimper, and grabbed your thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried you down the hall.
Your hands clutched at his hair, your mouth pressed desperate against his as he stumbled into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
He tossed you onto the bed with rough precision, immediately climbing over you, his eyes dark and ravenous as he tugged at your clothes. Your top was gone in seconds, tossed to the floor, your bra yanked down as his mouth descended on your breast, sucking hard at the swollen peak.
You moaned, arching into him, but he was relentless- dragging his tongue across your skin, nipping, sucking, leaving your chest marked and sensitive.
“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he growled, sitting back just long enough to strip you of the rest of your clothes, panties torn down your thighs and flung aside. He stared for a long, hungry beat, his chest heaving. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”
Jungkook settled between your thighs with the kind of focus that made your whole body shiver. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, his eyes glued to your soaked cunt. He licked his lips, shameless and filthy.
“Mine,” he muttered, low and dark, before lowering himself again, dragging his mouth across your stomach, closer, closer, until he pulled back- staring at your slick folds.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, wrecked. “Look at you. So wet, so pretty. All this for me?”
You whimpered, heat burning through your chest.
He groaned low, leaning in to press his mouth to your inner thigh, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Then another, higher, closer, until you were trembling beneath him. His breath ghosted over your slick folds, his lip ring brushing the sensitive skin as he teased you without touching.
“I’ve been dying for this,” he whispered, his eyes flicking up to lock on yours. “Dying to taste you. To bury my face in your pussy until you’re shaking.”
Before you could respond, his tongue dragged a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, from dripping entrance to swollen clit. Your back arched, a sharp cry ripping from your throat.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, licking his lips. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
He dove back in immediately, licking broad and messy at first, moaning against you like he couldn’t get enough. His tongue lapped greedily, gathering every drop before swirling it around your clit, flicking rapid strokes that had you gasping.
“Jungkook-!”
“That’s it, baby,” he muttered between licks, his voice muffled against you. “Say my name. Say it while I eat this perfect pussy.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard as your hips jerked into his mouth. He groaned at the pull, his tongue pressing deeper, fucking into you while his nose ground against your clit.
“God, you’re dripping,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to spit directly onto your folds before licking it up with obscene enthusiasm. “Messy little thing. Can’t get enough, baby.”
His mouth sealed around your clit then, sucking hard, tongue flicking mercilessly. Your body convulsed, a strangled moan tearing from your chest as the pressure built fast.
“That’s it,” he praised, his grip on your thighs tightening. “Ride my face, baby. Fucking use me.”
You couldn’t stop yourself- your hips bucked, grinding against his mouth, his tongue flattening against your clit as he let you take what you needed. He groaned against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, his eyes fluttering shut like he was drunk on the taste of you.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, pulling back just long enough to breathe before plunging back in, tongue swirling, lips sucking, devouring you. “I could stay down here all night.”
Your thighs shook, your grip in his hair tightening painfully as the edge coiled sharp and fast.
“Jungkook- please-”
He groaned against your clit, sucking harder, tongue flicking relentlessly until your body shattered. You cried out, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth as the orgasm ripped through you, waves of heat and pleasure crashing until you were trembling.
He didn’t stop.
Even as your body convulsed, he kept licking, sucking, groaning against you like a man starved. “That’s it, baby. Give me more. Cum on my tongue again. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my throat.”
Your body spasmed, the overstimulation sharp, but his grip kept you open, pinned against the mattress as his tongue drove you higher again. Tears pricked your eyes as another orgasm crashed, harder than the first, leaving you gasping, ruined.
Jungkook pulled back from between your thighs at last, lips slick, chin glistening, his grin absolutely wrecked. His chest heaved as he sat back on his heels, his eyes devouring you where you lay spread open, trembling from his mouth.
“God,” he groaned, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth before licking it clean. “I could eat you forever. But right now…” His gaze dropped lower, hungry, feral. “…I need to be inside you.”
He stood just long enough to strip. His shirt was yanked over his head in one rough motion, exposing the carved lines of muscle across his chest, tattoos sprawling down his arm and slightly over his chest. Your breath caught as he shoved his jeans down, his cock springing free, hard and heavy, flushed dark at the tip.
Your mouth went dry. “Jungkook-”
“Yeah,” he muttered, stroking himself once with a hiss. “Look at you. Eyes glued to my cock like a good girl. You want this, don’t you?”
Heat burned through you, your thighs pressing together instinctively, but he caught your knees and spread them wide again. His smirk curved sharp.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I want it.”
He groaned, climbing back onto the bed, looming over you as his cock brushed against your slick folds. He rocked forward once, dragging the thick head through your wetness, smearing it across your clit until you cried out.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice low and ruined. “You’re soaked. All from my tongue. And now you’re ready for my cock, aren’t you?”
“Yes-”
He pressed the tip against your entrance, pushing just enough to stretch you before pulling back, rubbing up against your clit again. You whined, hips lifting helplessly.
“God, you sound so sweet when you’re needy,” he growled, rubbing himself against you again, slower this time. “But you’re not getting it until you beg.”
“I- please-”
His smirk deepened. “Not good enough. Say it. Tell me you need my cock inside you.”
Your face flamed, but the words tumbled out, wrecked and desperate. “I need your cock inside me- please, Jungkook.”
His groan was guttural as his cock pressed harder at your entrance. “Fuck, baby. That’s what I wanted. You begging for me.”
Jungkook’s forehead pressed to yours as he held himself there, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently against your soaked entrance. His chest rose hard, heavy, his voice low and rough.
“Relax for me,” he whispered. “Let me in, baby.”
He pushed forward slowly, stretching you inch by inch until you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out, buried deep inside you. “Tightest pussy- God, you feel like heaven.”
You gasped, overwhelmed by the sheer fullness of him, your body clenching instinctively around his thick length.
He groaned again, his forehead falling back against yours. “Don’t do that. Don’t squeeze me like that, or I’m not gonna last.”
His mouth claimed yours in a slow, desperate kiss, his hips holding steady as he gave you time to adjust. His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as though you were something precious, even while his cock throbbed inside you.
“Look at me,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you. “Want to see your pretty face when I fuck you. Want to watch you fall apart for me.”
He pulled back, slow and deliberate, until only the head of his cock remained inside, then thrust forward again, deep and steady. The stretch was brutal but intoxicating, your moan muffled by his mouth as he kissed you through it.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his lips trailing down your throat. “Taking me so good. This pussy was made for me.”
His strokes stayed slow, unhurried, his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust. His hands roamed your body, sliding over your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, worshipping every inch.
“You’re perfect,” he groaned, sucking at your nipple before releasing it with a wet pop. “So fucking perfect. My perfect girl.”
Each word sank into you as his hips rocked deeper, dragging out moans you couldn’t hold back. His hand found yours, pinning it above your head as he drove into you again, his other palm gripping your thigh to spread you wider.
“God, I love the sounds you make,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. “Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me hear you.”
Your back arched, your lips trembling with every cry, and his grin turned feral as he leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing each desperate sound. His thrusts grew a little harder now, deeper, though still measured, still praising.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth. “Never wanted anyone like this before. You’re mine. All mine.”
Your walls clenched hard around him, and he hissed, his pace faltering briefly. His lips pressed to your ear, his voice dark.
“Keep squeezing me like that and I’ll cum,” he growled softly. “You want me to cum too soon, baby? You want me ruined already?”
The words sent heat crashing through you, your hips jerking into his, chasing each slow, devastating thrust.
“Jungkook- please-”
“Please what?” He kissed you again, deep, filthy. “Want it faster?”
“Yes-”
He chuckled low, his hips snapping once, harder, making you gasp. “Then beg me.”
“Please- Jungkook- faster,” you begged, your voice wrecked beneath him. “I need it harder- please- ”
His grin sharpened, his hips grinding deep but still slow. “That’s it. Beg for me, baby. Beg like the desperate little slut you are.”
Your face flushed hot, your nails dragging down his back. “I am- please-”
“Fuck,” he groaned, his smirk wrecked now. “You’re so fucking hot when you beg.”
With a growl, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you over with rough precision. His hands gripped your hips, yanking you onto your knees, ass high.
“Yeah,” he muttered, lining himself up again. “Just like that. Keep this ass up for me.”
He slammed back inside in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, your arms giving way so your chest pressed into the mattress.
“That’s it,” he groaned, his grip bruising on your hips. “Take it. Take my cock like the little slut you are.”
Each thrust was harder now, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His cock drove deep, stretching you, making you moan brokenly into the sheets.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice low and filthy. “Clenching around me like this cock was made for you. You like it, don’t you? You like being used like this.”
“Yes- fuck- yes-”
His laugh was low, dark, triumphant. “Good girl. My good girl, taking it so well.”
He slammed into you harder, his hand sliding up your back to grip your hair, yanking your head up. His mouth hovered close to your ear, his voice wrecked. “Listen to you. Moaning like a whore for my cock. You love it. You fucking love being filled like this.”
Your moan broke, your walls clenching tight around him.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, releasing your hair to press your entire body down flat into the mattress. His chest covered your back, his weight pinning you completely. His hips drove harder now, deeper, every stroke hitting so perfectly it stole your breath.
“That’s it. Lay there and take it, baby. Let me fuck you into the bed.” He muttered, his lips at your ear as he pounded into you.
You whimpered, your body helpless under him as his thrusts turned brutal, relentless.
“Good girl,” he praised between growls, his hand sliding under to rub your clit in time with his cock. “My perfect girl, my filthy slut. Taking me so good.”
The coil in your stomach snapped, your orgasm crashing through you as you screamed his name into the sheets. Your walls convulsed hard around him, milking his cock, and he cursed loudly, slamming into you a few more times before spilling inside with a guttural groan.
“Fuck- baby- fuck-”
He collapsed against your back, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, his hips grinding shallowly as he emptied inside you. His voice was hoarse, low, filthy. “You’re mine. Every inch of you. Mine.”
Jungkook stayed pressed against your back, his cock still buried deep inside you, both of you shuddering from the aftershocks. His breath was hot at your ear, uneven, his chest heaving against yours.
But then he shifted sitting up, slowly, carefully. His arms wrapped tight around your torso, hauling you upright until your back was flush with his chest. His cock stayed seated deep, twitching inside your still-clenching walls, stretching you full.
You gasped, the sudden closeness overwhelming, your body trembling as his lips brushed your shoulder.
“Still so tight,” he murmured, his voice low, wrecked. “God, I can feel you squeezing me. You’re gonna make me hard all over again.”
You whimpered, your hands clutching his arms where they banded across you.
“Shh.” His mouth pressed to your neck, sucking lightly. “I’ve got you. Just let me take care of you.”
One hand slid down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen clit. He circled it slowly, gently, his cock twitching with every clench inside you.
Your moan broke against the air. “Jungkook-”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, his lips at your ear. “One more for me, baby. Cum for me again. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m still inside you.”
His touch was steady, careful, but relentless. Every circle against your clit drew another broken sound from your lips, your body jerking weakly in his arms. His cock shifted inside you with each movement, dragging more heat from your core.
“You’re perfect like this,” he praised, his voice tender but filthy. “Pressed against me, full of my cock, letting me play with this pretty pussy. My good girl. My greedy girl.”
Your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut, the pressure building sharp and fast again despite how sensitive you were.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, his lips ghosting across your cheek. “Give it to me. Cum on my cock again. Let me feel it.”
Your thighs trembled violently, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers circled faster now, his voice rough against your ear.
“Do it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Your body snapped, orgasm ripping through you with a broken cry. Your walls clenched tight around his cock, milking him all over again as you shook helplessly in his arms. He groaned, his teeth catching your earlobe as his arms crushed you tighter to his chest.
“Fuck- yes- that’s it,” he growled. “So fucking good. You’re unreal.”
You collapsed against him, trembling, every nerve spent. He held you steady, still buried deep, his hand soothing over your stomach now, coaxing you down from the high. Jungkook kissed your temple softly, then carefully eased out of you, both of you groaning at the loss.
“Stay here,” he murmured, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “Don’t move.”
You nodded weakly, collapsing against the pillows as he slipped from the bed. A moment later, you heard the bathroom faucet, the sound of running water, and then he returned with a warm towel.
He was gentle now, cleaning you with slow, careful strokes, his touch reverent where it had been rough minutes ago. He pressed a kiss to your knee when he finished, tossing the towel aside before helping you into one of his oversized shirts.
“Better,” he murmured, sliding back into bed beside you. He pressed a water bottle into your hand, watching until you took a sip. Only then did he settle, pulling you against his chest.
The silence stretched, soft and warm, broken only by the hum of the city outside. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, his lips brushing your hairline.
Then, of course, he ruined it.
“You know you were screaming my name loud enough for the whole building to hear, right?” His grin was audible in his voice.
Your face heated instantly. “Shut up.”
He chuckled, smug. “Not a chance. My neighbors are probably jealous as hell right now.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“I get that a lot.” He kissed your cheek, voice low and teasing. “Especially from women I just made cum six times in one night.”
You groaned, hiding your face in his chest. “I hate you.”
His laugh was warm against your hair. “No, you don’t. You love me already.”
You swatted weakly at his chest, but he caught your hand easily, lacing your fingers with his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his grin softening.
“Seriously, though,” he murmured. “You okay?”
You nodded, your voice quiet. “Yeah. Better than okay.”
“Good.” He kissed your forehead, his tone more serious now. “Because I meant every word. You’re mine now.”
Your chest squeezed, warmth flooding through you. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he whispered, tightening his hold on you, “you’re still here.”
Silence again, softer this time, comfortable. His hand rubbed slow circles against your back, his breath evening out. You felt sleep tugging at you, your body exhausted, content.
Just before you drifted under, his voice came again, low and smug.
“Still can’t get over those bunny socks, though.”