You knew it was a bad habit, not locking the bedroom door. But locking doors inside your own house had never been required before – growing up, it was discouraged (courtesy of living in a one-bathroom house) – and you didn’t really expect anyone to come barging into your bedroom when you lived in your own apartment.
Then again, you hadn’t expected to have seven rowdy boys hanging out in your small living room that evening, and that happened so…
Okay, you should’ve locked the bedroom door.
But you didn’t.
And that was how you ended up scarring Jeon Jungkook for life. Ish.
The boys had managed to wedge their way into your apartment sometime during the day, nagging you with increasing incessancy to go out to dinner with them until you gave in and insisted they let you get ready. They’d probably sent the poor maknae to find out what was taking you so long (a quick shower), but you hadn’t heard him knocking over the music you played from the speaker in your bathroom. Your door wasn’t locked, and he must’ve thought that meant it was safe to peek inside.
You were still debating over the outfit you should wear – none of the shirts you picked were fitting with the pants you had on. So you decided to change the pants, darting back into your room with nothing but your underwear to cover your lower half (relatively-speaking).
“oOhmygod, shi-sorry, s-sorry!”
Jungkook’s terrified, stammering English sent you shouting and diving back into the bathroom, furiously yanking down the hem of your shirt to cover your thighs. As you fought to catch your breath past the fierce burning of your cheeks, you stared at your horrified reflection in the mirror and tried to figure out what all he saw.
Your ass. In a thong. For one.
“Oh my god.”
Eventually, you managed to wrangle your mortification into the closet and finish doing your hair and makeup. The second you walked into the living room – amid cheering from the rest of the boys who immediately hopped up to set off – your eyes locked onto Jungkook’s hunched and silent figure. He was sticking close to Jimin’s side – much to his hyung’s amusement – and there was a massive cosmic force keeping his eyes from even twitching in your direction.
You tried not to slam your face into the nearest flat surface.
Lock the goddam door next time.
Dinner was a welcome distraction after that. Namjoon was talking over Jin and Hoseok was teasing Yoongi who was glaring at his loud neighbors while Taehyung was constantly pulling laughs from your full stomach. You caught yourself wondering why you put up a struggle whenever they wanted to hang out; these boys were a living sitcom, and they were all you needed to make you happy to be alive. The five men closest to your half of the table were doing a thorough job of keeping your attention off the two others who were lurking at the opposite end.
To be fair, Jimin was actively being social. His human shadow, however, was doing his best to pretend he didn’t exist. And the bright-haired dancer – whose attention was always partly focused on Jungkook and was therefore immune to the maknae’s invisibility talent – couldn’t help but notice that something was bothering his friend.
Jungkook was trying hard not to look at you, because every time he did, he saw you half-naked with a strip of lace framing your beautiful ass, and it was causing problems. Or rather, one large and growing larger problem. Watching your gorgeous smile and hearing your breathtaking laugh bounce down the table was far from soothing at this point, and the only thing he needed was to get back to the dorm and take a long, cold shower.
Jimin caught the pained look deep in Jungkook’s dark eyes and leaned over to ask him what was wrong.
“Nothing hyung,” he mumbled, staring at his bowl. Jimin didn’t fall for it and bumped the maknae’s shoulder, eyebrows puckering.
“Jungkookie,” Jimin whined, a frown betraying his playful tone. “You can tell me.”
Laughter roared from the end of the table, something to do with Yoongi and Hoseok, but the two at the far side missed it. Jungkook couldn’t help looking over at the sound of your laugh, and kept staring long after the moment passed. His mind was briefly swept away on a tide of thoughts surrounding the image of you beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy instead of laughter and his name tumbling from your bruised lips. Jimin noticed the lingering stare.
“Jungkookie,” he mused with a familiar, mischievous smile crawling across his face. It threatened to break into a full shit-eating grin as he asked innocently, “Do you have a crush on Y/N-ah?”
Jungkook’s eyes snapped onto his hyung and he shook his head violently.
“N-no, hyung! It’s not like that –“
Jimin’s smirk only deepened at Jungkook’s flustered defensiveness, and the maknae knew with a sinking feeling that he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.
“She’s my noona, hyung,” he still tried, half-heartedly, but Jimin just started to laugh.
Jungkook retreated into silence, returning his heavy stare to his bowl. The almost painful tightness in his pants alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t even convincing himself.
Saying goodnight was a quick affair, up until the awkward encounter from earlier was brought to the front of your mind once again. All the other boys gave you a hug on their way out the door, but Jungkook shifted around Jimin and tried to make his escape before you could even say a word to him. Until Jimin snagged his arm, maneuvering his taller friend back around to face you.
Both of you felt your cheeks begin to spontaneously combust.
“Goodnight Jungkook-ah,” you mumbled, feeling the urge to apologize or vaporize, but conscious of Jimin’s unusually wide grin and attentive stare. Jungkook’s goodbye was barely intelligible, his voice was so quiet, and you both let out a breath as he turned to leave.
“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin chided, making you both flinch. “Give your noona a hug.”
“No, that’s okay Jimin,” you insisted quickly. “You guys should get going.”
Jimin just shook his head and nudged Jungkook back towards you. This was one of those times where you wished you were incorporeal and could just casually dissipate into thin air, or at the very least, melt into the floorboards. But no, you had to stand there, thinking about Jungkook thinking about your ass in a thong as the poor guy came towards you thinking about the exact same thing. If sheer embarrassment could boil the skin from your cheeks..
He quickly hugged you, an awkward, top-heavy embrace where his arms were barely slung around your shoulders, but at the same time, still holding you just a measure away from him. Jimin coughed, unimpressed, but the look the maknae nailed him with convinced him that he wasn’t going to get away with anything more. The both of them said goodbye again and shuffled through the door, nearly running over an irate Grandpa Yoongi on his way back in to drag them out by their ears.
You locked the deadbolt and stared at the doorknob for a minute, trying and failing not to think about that hug and how Jungkook was practically bending over backwards to keep from touching you. Your pride stung, and your heart winced, the feeling crawling across your face and leaving you upset. You really messed up tonight; Kookie couldn’t even look at you anymore, and was way too uncomfortable with touching you.
Huffing at your idiocy, you shuffled into your bedroom – locking the door, just because – and changed for bed.
Jungkook slunk away to his bed the instant they stepped back into the dorm, hiding there and determined to wait for the rest of the group to go to sleep before he could claim the shower for as long as he needed. He expected Jimin to come and nag him about whatever feelings he might have for you, and managed to fend off his well-meaning hyung by pretending to be asleep. Jimin’s nurture instinct was too strong to keep Jungkook from sleep, no matter how curious he was.
And finally, Jungkook heard the dorm fall into that living quiet that meant everyone but he was sound asleep. He painstakingly padded from the bed, out of the room, and across to the bathroom, where he locked the door and let out a long breath. He was in the shower the next instant, praying silently that the pounding water would beat out the terribly inappropriate thoughts burning in his mind.
Like how he so desperately wanted to see you back in that thong, stripping off your shirt, teasing him. God, he wanted you to tease him. Wanted to see you run your hands over your own body and tempt him until he snapped and slammed you onto the bed, pushing your legs wide and forcing himself into your tight heat –
This was not the first time he’d realized how sexy you were. This wasn’t even the first time he’d popped a boner with you in the same room. But this was the first time he couldn’t fucking make it go away.
Groaning under his breath, Jungkook caved and braced himself against the shower wall, tucking his face into his elbow as he grasped his erection with his other hand. His hiss at the contact was washed away with the water, and he stroked himself, thinking once again about your gorgeous ass. He thought about the beautiful shade of red it would turn after he smacked it, grabbed it, spread it wide. He thought about the sounds you would make when he teased your entrance with the head of his dick, when he slid into you slowly. God, how would it look when he pushed his way inside, disappearing into your tightness, your heat, stretching you around his thick cock..
Fire burned through his veins, flickering through his brain and wiping out the sounds of the shower around him. All Jungkook could see was you bent over before him, his dick pounding into you, sending you sprawling against the bed. Your delicious moans, your screams, the way his name tumbled powerlessly from your mouth.. Your cries picking up speed, volume, panting as you came closer and closer to your high –
Jungkook groaned, barely managing to bite into his arm to muffle the sound in time, coming hard to the thought of how your orgasm would feel squeezing around his dick, milking his every drop. The intense rush of pleasure wracked his body and left him leaning heavily against the shower wall, muscles shaking, chest heaving. As the water washed away the traces of his illicit session, the only thing Jungkook was thankful for was the fact that he had managed to keep from moaning your name.
After he caught his breath and could stand on his own without spots dancing in front of his eyes, Jungkook scrubbed himself off and stepped out of the shower, running the towel through the dripping ends of his hair. When he sank back into his bed, pulling the covers up over his head like a kid, he hoped the darkness of the room would hide the flush of his cheeks and keep the thoughts of what had just happened at bay.
Jungkook woke up the next morning with a furious hard on, courtesy of a very colorful dream involving your ass, and he buried his face in his pillow.
It was three in the goddamn morning. You knew that the second you stumbled out of bed, roused by the violent knocking on your front door. Part of you considered grabbing the random baseball bat you kept somewhere under the bed – gag gift from a friend because, sports? You? Please – but the knocking was getting too loud and you were afraid the neighbors would complain and you honestly didn’t have enough goddam energy to satisfy your self-preservation instinct at three in the goddamn morning, so you just crashed and bumbled your way to the door and swung it open with an award-winning glare.
Only to be grabbed around the waist and crushed against a hard body, your lips attacked fiercely and with no mercy. You had a split second to think – shit, probably shoulda brought the bat – before your assailant had pulled away and was holding you at arm’s length, trying to catch your dazed eye.
“Kook?” you croaked, finally recognizing the messy hair and intense grimace standing in front of you. “What are you doing here?”
And then –
“And why the fuck did you kiss me?!”
He winced, glancing over his shoulder at the neighboring apartments, and then looked at the floor. Far from being pissed – aside from the fading annoyance of being awoken at this ungodly hour – you felt a warm burst of affection for the kid, seeing as he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. And you could practically feel his blush from here.
“Noona,” Jungkook mumbled, and he sounded almost desperate.
“Come in here,” you directed, stepping aside to let him in. “What’s going on?”
Jungkook took his time closing the door behind him, latching it, and then he leaned his head against the frame. You stared at him, waiting, watching him take a couple deep breaths. He was wearing a large coat over some ripped jeans, and the veins of his hand bulged where he gripped the doorknob.
His head jerked up, dark hair tumbling over his forehead as he turned to look at you. A shiver raced down your spine, chased by an inexplicable flash of heat. The innocent, distressed look from before was gone, replaced by a hard burn in those familiar eyes. He stepped towards you, shucking the coat and tossing it onto your couch, revealing a tight white tee that did nothing to obscure the way the muscles of his shoulders, his chest, shifted lithely beneath his skin.
“Noona,” Jungkook crooned, tipping his head a little to watch the way you watched him. The depth of his voice yanked on your lower belly, heating you from the inside. “I need your help with something, noona.”
What the living fuck just happened to the kid? Because the kid was fucking gone. This was one fully adult, fully legal, fully fuck-worthy sex god prowling towards you, shaking the fringe of his hair from his eyes – eyes that were almost black, blown wide with lust – lust?
You opened your mouth, discovered that you were almost drooling, swallowed, and tried again.
“Help with what, Jungkook-ah?”
You blinked and then he was there, in front of you, hands deceptively gentle on your hips, angling you against his. And you felt it, the problem, very obviously and shamelessly digging into your abdomen. It whipped the air from your lungs and your mouth dropped, trying to remember how to breathe as he leaned down and murmured in your ear.
“Help with this, noona.” A remarkably reserved grind of his hips illustrated his point perfectly, and it sent shockwaves through your body, flooding your core and pulling a soft gasp from your lips. He didn’t stop – the grip on your waist tightened as he rocked his hips again, pressing his erection against your belly. Seeking some kind of friction. The sensation screwed your eyes shut, and you could only cling to his arms, focusing on the flex of his muscles and the press of his hips. You didn’t realize the subtle way your hips moved to compliment his until Jungkook groaned, a soft, breathy sound, and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
“Noona,” he growled against your skin. “Please.”
You had barely enough time to nod and kiss the flushed skin of his neck before his hands were on your ass, his muscles bulging as he hauled you up and carried you off towards your bedroom. With a surprised yelp, you locked your legs around his hips and held on to his shoulders, unable to escape the overwhelming scent of Jungkook in your nose or the burning pressure of his erection just below your ass.
He threw you onto the bed, and that’s when you knew you were in for it. Fighting to catch your breath, you watched him tear his shirt over his head and fiddle with the fly of his jeans. Jungkook’s need was seeping off of him, his desperation to be inside you washing through your body with an intense heat, flooding your panties. So it took you by surprise, like a wallop to the chest, when he caught you staring at him and smirked, pausing in the process of undressing to palm himself through the rough fabric of his pants.
Your mouth ran dry at the sight. Jungkook groaned at the friction, head dropping back to put his bobbing throat on display, and he looked at you from that angle, over his cheeks and down his nose. Lips twisted with a sneer.
“You want me just as badly, don’t you noona?” he growled, tightening the pressure on his erection. “Did you plan on showing off that gorgeous ass for me the other day?”
“God, Kookie,” you groaned, unable to keep the want from your voice.
He growled and lunged at you, pinning your hands above your head and crushing his hips against yours.
“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” he ordered, all formalities and honorifics swept away by the wave of his dominance. “I’m not a kid.”
Jungkook pulled back to look at you, eyebrows lifted in surprise, and you bit your lip because oops. His pupils were dilated, eyes black, intense, and he stared at you for two more seconds before very firmly, very deliberately, thrusting his hips against yours. His erection jutted against your sensitive heat, and it pulled a keen straight from your chest. Your eyes crashed shut at the wave of pleasure and you thought, oh god he could make me cum like this.
“Are you challenging me, baby?” he growled, his voice suddenly drowning your senses from right beside your ear. The new pet name was accompanied by another thrust, and you moaned, fighting his hold on your wrists to just cling to him. “You teased me, and now you’re challenging me?”
“God, Jungkook -“
“I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, about taking you like this, forcing you to beg for me, baby. And now I’m going to do just that.” He mouthed at your neck, heat burning from his lips down your body to tangle in your core. “Beg for me.”
You whimpered, trying to rock your hips with his and find even more friction, but he froze until you stopped fidgeting. And then rocked against you yet again.
“Please, Jungkook,” you whined, way beyond caring at this point. You fucking needed this. “Please fuck me.”
His feral groan vibrated through your chest and his grip on your wrists disappeared long enough to tug at your nightshirt. Jungkook wasted no time in undressing you, only pausing after tugging your underwear down your legs to take in the sight of you, finally fully exposed before him. His breath was harsh, hurried, but the look in his eyes when he drank you in scalded you from the inside out.
“You look so fucking wet, baby,” he moaned.
Then he was kicking off his jeans and underwear, a condom summoned from some pocket. Every thought in your mind was wiped at the sight of his painfully huge and flushed erection, weeping precum onto his hand as he gave himself a couple pumps. The sight of him rolling the condom over himself nearly made your heart stop. And then he was back on top of you, one hand sliding up your thigh to your folds.
A strangled sound caught at the back of his throat when his fingers slicked themselves in your arousal. He slipped two digits in with ease, testing your walls, and you cried out at the feeling, desperate for the friction of something inside you.
“Jungkook, please,” you panted, grinding your hips into his hand.
He didn’t keep you waiting. His fingers disappeared, only to be replaced by the teasing head of his cock, just pressing at your folds, making the breath stutter in your lungs. Shifting so his elbows were resting by your head, his eyes catching and holding yours, Jungkook dipped to press his lips to yours as he rolled his hips and pushed his thick length into you.
You were so wet, he slid right in, stretching you out and filling you so completely you had no room inside to breathe. And it was so fucking good. As he settled into your heat, Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut and his breaths stuttered to a halt.
One second. Two.
And then he thrust, pulling out a measure just to slam back into you. And you keened, a drawn out cry at the feeling of him. So full, so deep. Waves of pleasure rolled over you, heat burning through your limbs. Jungkook groaned, the rumble bouncing from his chest through yours. With every powerful roll of his hips, he drove helpless moans from you, unable to hold back.
Sheer, uncontrollable pleasure roiled at the pit of your stomach, and Jungkook’s dick was pounding at it, pushing you closer and closer. The veins on his arms were popping, muscles straining. His teeth gritted, Jungkook’s thrusts grew fiercer, egged on by the lustful sounds pouring from your lips. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed around the room, surrounding you both with heat and lust and desperation to reach the climax.
“Fuck,” Jungkook grunted, head dropping to your shoulder as he buried his lips in your skin, his pace making it impossible to keep a steady kiss. He was mumbling into your shoulder, the same thing over and over.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A fierce, deep noise ripped from his chest and you cried his name in response, sight flickering out at the flames threatening to explode in your core.
“C-close, Y/N,” he groaned, panting in your ear.
“Y-yes, Jungkook, p-please.” Your words broke, voice catching as he crashed into you once, twice –
You exploded, heat bursting from your center and washing over you, rocketing through your limbs and wiping your mind clear of everything except Jungkook’s name, the name you shouted into the air as you clenched uncontrollably around him, the name you chanted as Jungkook tossed his head back and chased your orgasm with his own. His mouth open, eyes screwed shut, silent moan trapped in his throat as pleasure rolled through the both of you.
Then he collapsed onto you, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath and still his shaking arms. Sweat stuck your bare skin to his, but you were too busy focusing on clearing the spots from your vision to care. Eventually, he pulled his softening length from you and peeled off the full condom, tying it and tossing it away with the last of his energy.
“Fuck, noona,” he croaked, curling up beside you and snaking an arm over your stomach.
“Fuck, Kook,” you replied, exhaustion pulling at your eyes.
You felt his grin curl against the flushed skin of your arm.
“You just did.”
He just gave a tired, self-satisfied laugh.
“I didn’t mean for you to see my thong the other day,” you mumbled. “Sorry.”
He laughed again.
“I’m not,” he said. “But lock the damn door next time, I don’t want the others to see that beautiful ass of yours.”
“Fuckin right. Your ass is mine.”
The rest of the boys came searching for Jungkook the next morning. You both woke up to the horrified screams of one traumatized Jung Hoseok as he stumbled back out the open bedroom door.
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