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jiminiecrickets · 1 year ago

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jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.9k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, bondage, toys, blindfold, edging, temp play, nipple play, handjobs/frotting, sir kink, size humiliation

you've gotten daring. it feels as if he's constantly in wait for a wolf to jump out of the bushes to attack him in the kitchen, the dining room... or even��actual bushes. and it wasn't just the sex that had his skin burning under his clothes. it was the way you shifted your arm casually around his waist, over his shoulders, claiming him as yours – it was the way you looked at him differently, eyes dark and dangerously playful. it was the way a corner of your lips twitched up and pride glittered in your eyes whenever anyone mentioned how cute he was, tucked into your side like a doll.

it excited him, doing something so dirty in the shadows and having it leave its mark on him so visibly that others picked up on it.

when you greet him in the morning with a fruity breakfast-in-bed of your famous pancakes with a bundle of red bamboo-silk rope on the side, he picks up the rope first.

he twists the soft ends between his fingers, admiring the nylon-like sheen to the vibrant fibres. he turns the bundle over in his hands, admiring the contrast against his skin. "so pretty," he whispers, taking his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes sparkle up at you ardently. "do you know how to use these?"

"i've been doing some light reading," you tease, kissing his cheek and throwing open the curtains to let the morning light in. "got them on tuesday. been waiting for a time when i can really let them shine as a centrepiece."

"you should've gotten a blindfold, too," he laughs, giving the rope a harsh tug. it barely moves, holding steady. he blushes. if you decide you don't want him moving a single inch, these will certainly get the job done.

"would you like one?" you ask liltingly, moving towards the wardrobe. "you have all day to pick one." since the beginning of the week, he'd grown more comfortable with giving up control over the little things in his life – like now, allowing you to pick out a nice, casual outfit for him.

"mm... maybe i would." he sets aside the rope, his chest already brimming with anticipation, and picks up the fork. delicately, he pierces a dewy blueberry with a single silver tine and drags it against his teeth with a soft hum. the syrupy glazing gives the tartness a tingling rich weight.

his eyes widen at the outfit you've thrown on the end of the bed next to his feet. you close the wardrobe. "that's just your hoodie. where's the rest of it?"

you smirk, scooping up a familiar pair of fishnets folded into a neat square, a loop of leather clinking on top. you lift the pair of polished black heels in your other hand and they glint sharply in the light. "here's the rest of it."

flames engulf his face. "h-hyung! i can't wear that!"

"why not?"

"it's not – it's so suggestive," he whispers. you smile; there's your sweet boy. "aren't you worried people will stare at your boyfriend?"

"no. i know they would – that's why i chose them." you set them down, perching on the edge of the bed next to him and taking the fork gently from his hands. you carve a bite out of the fluffy pancake stack and lift it to his lips, humming when he wraps his lips around it with more of a pout than usual. "you love the attention, my darling. i'm just giving you what you want."

he shivers at the familiar sentence, which sends a twinge of arousal up his spine. he just woke up, too – maybe you'll help him with his little 'problem' if he asks nicely. "i think i should wear pants. what if the wind picks up the end of the hoodie? i'd get in trouble for public indecency – you'd have to fuck me in a jail cell."

"fine," you huff, pushing another mouthful of pancakes into his mouth as you stand. "jeans, then. your black calvin klein denim, maybe? let's go for an all-black look today. you can cuff the hems to show off your shoes."

with a laugh, he spears half of a strawberry and waves it towards you. you accept it, teeth dragging lightly against the silver. "you have to go change, then. wanna match with you, baby."

"i made you a cute breakfast and you're still ordering me about..." you sulk. "okay. but that's the last thing you can ask of me. i'm in charge, you little minx."

"yes, daddy," he drawls, rolling his eyes as he giggles. "big man pays for our dates and gives good kisses. what else to i have to want for?"

"oh, trust me. tonight, you'll be wanting."

—

it's hot. it's cold. your thumb tweaks his nipple and he flinches at the suddenness of it, swallowing his groan of pleasure.

"mmnh... oh, fuck, fuck you..." he jolts as the wet heat of your tongue circles his pebbled nipple, your teeth dragging against the soft, cold skin. it's fascinating, really – you can feel his heat, his red-blooded muscle, simmering beneath his skin, and yet what you take between your lips is arctic. the zing of cold tastes sweet with his bitten moans.

"what did you say, darling?" you drag the ice cube down along the defined edge of his apollo's belt, teasing it up and down the place where it smooths out – right at the junction of his thigh.

he whimpers – really whimpers – and bucks his hips feebly, arms flexing against the red bamboo-silk blend. you made sure to tie them nice and tight, framing the swells of his delts and biceps. he whips his head left and right, trying to find the source of your voice. it's coming from all around him, enveloping him, drowning his senses, bubbling in his tummy like a glass of mellow, nutty champagne.

the bullet vibrator, discreet and black, has been buzzing away inside of him for what feels like hours. it's shorter than your fingers, thinner than your cock, and barely brushes that sweet sport two inches inside of him. he grinds his ass against the bed, fighting desperately to rub it against his prostate for some proper pleasure. the used fleshlight knocks his hip and he shivers as your fingers brush his side while you pick it up and set it aside.

"nothing, sir," he says between clenched teeth, his chest arching into your mouth as your tongue flicks and rolls against his sensitive chest. his stomach tenses and you drag the flat of your tongue down the split of his chest and trace the dips of his toned muscles, lips firm and warm and wet and—

he cries out as the searing ice presses against the underside of his throbbing cock. you wrap your hand entirely around him – his heart flutters – and the heat of your hand and his shaft have the ice dripping down your first knuckles, sandwiched unflinchingly as you lazily shuffle your palm up and down, up and down.

he whines tearfully and his hips jerk away, writhing as he tries to pull away from the numbing cold and shattering heat. it's so slick. "n-nothing! i said nothing!"

the icy water drips down his balls and constant sticky precum bubbles from his tip, pooling on his tensing stomach. his hands flex behind his head and he tilts his mouth against your neck when he feels you bury your face in his shoulder, humming softly as you jerk him off so terribly sweetly. the pulsing rage of heat, the steady glacial chill that hums at the base of his cock...

"'m sorry," he cries out against your skin, pressing his lips to your jaw quick and messy. he's frantic. you smile. "i – mmh! – didn't mean it, please, just wanna come, please... s'hard, so hard, i wanna see you... wanna touch you, wanna feel you against me, in me, i don't care anymore!"

he sounds almost broken. granted, you've never toyed with him like this before – you're not usually one to play with your food too much before you eat. but this week, his words, his cute little smiles when he teases his hand across your crotch... maybe you're less of a square than you thought.

"you didn't mean it?" you tilt your head, middle and index fingers brushing against the rim of his asshole, nudging the vibrator. he spreads his legs wider, thighs hooked over yours, and you smirk. "it just... came out, right? ah, i understand... but that doesn't mean that you're forgiven. you'll have to earn that."

he keens, nodding so hard his head's in danger of falling off. he humps your fist, his cheeks dark pink. "yes – yes, sir. i'll do better for you, hyung."

"hm." you sit back on your knees, stroking his body. he shivers under your touch, flinching and gasping softly at each cold twinge. his fawn nipples are swollen and dark. "you will."

"i will," he parrots softly, a tiny breath of dazed acquiescence. his head tips back – your hand, god, he'd been trying to ignore it, focus on your voice, but even that got him all worked up. he can barely remember what the bedroom looks like. all he remembers is you.

"that's right, darling," you croon, tugging faster on his cock as he judders and moans, grinding into your fist and against your bulge at the same time. you glance down at his cock and can't help the soft huff of laughter that escapes you at the sight.

he clenches around nothing at the sound. "w-what?"

"mm, nothing," you jest, "just admiring how pretty your little cock looks in my hand."

his gut zings with deep, hot pleasure. he can't steady the wobble in his voice. "i-it's not little...!"

"really? can't you feel it, baby?" you wrap your fingers tight around his length one at a time so you can truly appreciate the look of it, snug in the tunnel of your palm. "my hand wraps around it entirely. you can't even see it anymore. i've never realised how dainty you truly are. doubt you could please anyone with this."

you tug sharply and his moan snaps in the middle. his pulsing, leaking red cock dribbles onto his stomach and runs down his sides with all of his writhing. you squeeze slowly on every upwards stroke, as if milking him, and a thick spurt of precum drools over your knuckles.

"'m not dainty," he nearly sobs, yanking on the red ropes caging his arms and chest. they hold strong; he's powerless against you, his heels digging into your lower back in a feeble attempt at getting you to grind on him. "nngh – 'm not..."

"no, you say?" your fingers circle his asshole and you admire the way he grips that little toy like a vice. he whimpers, grinding down on your fingers in a desperate bid to get them inside of him and to fuck him good. "then what are you, my darling?"

he jerks into the mattress as he feels a hot, heavy weight slide along the prominent vein of his cock, slipping in beside his in your loosened fist. you rock your hips and heat engulfs his cock as he trembles, feeling your balls pressed against his in the filthiest kind of intimacy.

"take a look, baby. i want you to see it for yourself."

your fingers hook under his blindfold and toss it somewhere into the darkness to be picked up in the morning. he blinks, disoriented, up at you, his pupils swallowing his irises and his expression loose and wanton.

you take his chin, angling it down, and his eyes travel down his flushed, messy body to the big prize... and was it big.

"don't come." your hand tightens around your cocks. you drag your hips back, then push forward, watching his expressions closely as his mouth falls open and his eyes flutter shut. "good boy. now, watch."

you grab his jaw and tilt his gaze to yours, eyes hungry and ruthless. your hips pump faster. your cock dwarfs jungkook's as it slides over it, the thick head catching on his, and he shuts his eyes tightly, unable to swallow the rapid, ceaseless, embarrassed moans you're yanking out of his guts by the handful. you increase the speed of the vibrator from minimum to maximum and he wails.

"open your eyes, sweet thing. i told you to watch."

he babbles half-words and pleas for things he doesn't know. your hips quicken, the hot drag of flesh on flesh almost deviant. a thick spurt of his precum smears your cock and you groan softly, pumping you together as you thrust against him.

the quick wet smack of your balls against his brings him close to tears. each jostle and rub tugs the string out of his thoughts, unravelling them like a stray thread. the white-hot coil tightens.

nervously, between hiccups and cries, he cracks his eyes open, hands flexing into fists behind his head. the warm pad of your thumb rubs his wet, icy nipple, flicking and pinching erratically. he keens your name, arching his back into the radiating heat of your palm against his ribs.

he feels so small. your hand wrapped over his upper ribs, cupping the softness of his chest. your body, looming above his. your cock, rutting against his like a beast...

he can't help it. his eyes roll back into his skull and he comes.

everything tightens. it's as if his whole body is a spring loaded with a single high-calibre bullet, and in that flash of sun-surface heat, everything slows down. everything is more: your touch, your body, your love. tingling white pleasure bursts in his core, bleeding out to his fingers and toes like blazing petrol trails.

his head spins. his lungs ache.

what's his name, again?

you release on his stomach and cock, making more of a mess of him. his own glazed cum drips down his sides and pools on the soft hotel towels he stole from somewhere he definitely shouldn't have been. you shift your grip, fisting his cock rapidly as he sobs, his chest heaving and tears glittering along his lash line.

you milk him dry until he's a twitching, gasping puddle of cum on the bed, thick trembling thighs pinning you in place. his unfocussed gaze trails over the ceiling. he whines softly through tears as your fingers glide against his sensitive asshole, popping the still vibrator out of him. he clenches around nothing and rolls his ass against your cock – it's sloppy, needy, and tired.

it's always been hard to say no to him, especially when he gazes up at you with a slick swollen pout and those huge, glistening eyes, but you have to. the rope's made pink indents into his skin where he's pulled and pushed against him, and you're glad that you splurged a little on the rope. he wouldn't be able to wear short sleeves for a week if you got him something coarser.

you hush him gently as your fingers work deftly at the knots. when his hands are free, thumping softly to the bed, they're immediately up again, snaking around your shoulders and yanking you down to his chest.

he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent shakily. his fingertips glide absently up and down the middle of your spine; you can feel the tremors wracking his body, muscles tensing and relaxing as often as he breathed.

you kiss him softly. he moans into it, lips moving hungrily against yours, and he arches himself off of the bed in an effort to get closer to you. you hold him up with an arm over his shoulders, your other arm braced against the bed.

when you part, gasping for air, he moans softly, chasing your lips. you indulge him one last time, and when you pull away, you move to his throat, sucking a dark hickey into his skin high above where any t-shirt collars might fall. he doesn't bruise easily; you have to put special care into it.

his ankle slips down around the back of your knee as your teeth sting. you kiss the reddening bruise – one day you're going to make it a heart just to embarrass him – and his throat bobs. you give his adam's apple a chaste kiss – he giggles, dazed and airy, and presses his cheek to yours as he comes down from his high, still panting softly.

he opens his mouth and coaches himself on how to talk again. he feels loopy. "don' want this week to end, hyung..."

"i know." you stroke his side. "just ask me to play mario kart with you again. you've incensed me to try harder."

he coos, giggling softly through deep, shaky breaths. "ah, but it won't matter. i'll beat you anyway – it's genetic. i'm a natural winner."

"winner?" you lift a brow. "just now, you did the one thing i specifically told you not to do, gold star. i don't think that's 'winning'."

"anytime i get to see you naked is a win for me, hyung," he teases, pecking your lips. he tucks his hands behind his head, mimicking the shape you made with the ropes, and spreads his legs. "let's see if you can beat the 'high score' you won tonight."

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