-> This Is A Bad Idea. Jungkook Is A Bad Guy. But Just One Time Can't Hurt Anybody. Right?

-> This is a bad idea. Jungkook is a bad guy. But just one time can't hurt anybody. Right?

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: pwp, enemies to lovers, roommate!au

Warnings: masterbation (f), Jungkook is a little shit, oc hates him but he's fuckin hot and she daydreams about him constantly, nudity, dirty talk, fingering in front of a mirror, lil overstimulation, creampie, marking/hickie, these two are thirsty as all hell

Wc: 1.6K

a/n: I wrote this drabble for a request that got deleted a while back, but here it is edited and revamped and ready to be released into the world.

"Fuck Jungkook, you fucking jerk!"

Images of his stupid, pretty face flash behind your eyes as your head falls against the shower wall. Hot water hits your skin, dripping down your body, the curves of your chest and waist, and trails off your wrist. Your fingers aren't very big or long -- not like his -- but you'll be damned before you verbally admit how desperate you are to have his fingers inside you.

It's shameful to fantasize about your worst enemy while pleasuring yourself in the shower. Maybe you're sick or maybe he's just that fucking hot. Either way, if anyone found out just how often you think about him in this way, your entire life would be over. No one does this, but the opportunity of Jungkook kneeling between your legs and responsibly sopping up the mess he's caused makes you shudder with anticipation.

Softly closing your eyes, you can picture how he might feel against you, where he might kiss, how he might touch you. Are you insane to want that? After everything he's done to you? Maybe. Probably. Fuck you don't know.

Spreading your fingers, you attempt to stretch your already sore cunt until you feel a sharp sting. Is he this big? Bigger? You place your thumb over your clit to numb the pain, sighing his name as you feel yourself nearing a beautiful high.

It's no use. You've never been able to cum on your own. Not once. It's painfully upsetting that the only person who could possibly make you cum is the only person you would drop dead before asking for help.

You've turned it into a little game though, for loss of a better alternative. Jungkook is so the type to edge you on, you just know it. He'd tease you relentlessly with his body just like he teases you with his words. And hell, you love that headcannon.

He'd be leaning over you, your body writhing with pleasure after hours and hours of being trapped beneath him, clenching around his massive cock as it pulses inside you. His teeth would be on your neck, biting like he's trying to eat you and leaving behind bruises that spell his name on your skin. With a cocky smirk and a snap of his hips, he'd always hit that perfect spot, always. Because he knows you, he knows your body, he knows what you like and how you like it. And after you've begged enough to please him, he might just give you what you want.

"...please," you beg absolutely no one in particular, "let me cum, damn it."

"You promise to be a good girl?"

Shit you can actually hear him now, his smooth voice like acid in your ears sending waves through your body as it mixes with the faint patter of the shower. Poisonous but you like it.

"Yes! I promise, I'll be a good girl for you, Jungkook, so let me, ahhh, let me cum all over your dick."

He hisses, "I don't know, this seems kinda fast. Don't you think we should at least go on a date or something first?"

Wait a second.

You pick up your head and widen your eyes to see him leaning against the foggy, full body mirror across from your shower with a ridiculously cocky tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

You're petrified. He straight up laughs.

"What are you doing here?!"

His expression falls. "I live here, remember? Or did your dumbass brain forget I pay half the rent."

You roll your eyes and cut the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself. "Go away, Jungkook."

"But you were calling for me," he bites his lip, following you around the apartment as you collect clothes from the dyer and lotion from the closet.

"I wasn't calling for you."

"Then what were you doing?" he asks with a sly smile. "Sounded like begging to me. Sounded nice."

Your cheeks heat up, the painful throbbing between your legs hasn't stopped since you left the bathroom and this is not helping either. Stopping in front of your vanity, you attempt not to let your head explode.

"You were thinking about me in the shower."

"I was not."

"Liar."

He doesn't touch you but he does get as close as possible, leaning over your shoulder like a damn serial killer or something, hot breath fanning your ear and hands hovering over your towel, just waiting for you to give him the go to rip it off.

"I think about you too. At night, when I'm alone in my bed and I can't fall asleep. I think about you, what you sound like, what you taste like. Fuck I wanna know what you taste like so bad."

He's mere inches from touching your skin, arm coming around your frame to the front of your body, hovering just in front your legs, fingers lightly tracing the edge of your towel. You can feel your resolve breaking.

"I hate you," you sigh, closing your eyes to highten the feeling of his presence.

He chuckles, "The feeling is mutual. But does that mean we can't make each other feel good? You seemed awfully close in the shower, I'm sure it wouldn't take much. Let me help you." His lips ghost the shell of your ear and even though he still isn't directly touching you, your body feels sparks everywhere he hovers.

"Just one time?"

"Just one time," he promises.

"Just your fingers."

"Just my fingers."

His hand disappears inside your towel, soft digits poking at the crease between your clenched thighs until you separate them willingly. It only takes one touch and you gasp, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like fireworks. It's so much better than you even imagined, his middle finger sliding over your slit before flicking your clit with expertise, as if he's always known you. When he thrusts two fingers inside, you bend at the will of his touch, falling into his chest and reaching behind your head to hold onto him.

He doesn't mind. Dipping his lips into your neck, it's the perfect placement for you to grip his hair and pull each time the hilt of his palm rubs against your clit and his fingers thrust deep inside your soaking hole. He reaches deeper than you ever could, stretching you perfectly. Even though he promised just his fingers, you imagine this is how he would prep you to take his dick.

Oh, and he would have to prep you. You can tell that much just from the feel of him pressing into your ass. He's swollen inside his sweats, painful and obviously in need. But he doesn't grind, doesn't roll his hips. He just holds you flush against him, a solid support for your weakening knees that threaten to collapse beneath you. He stays focused on getting you off because you begged for his fingers so nicely. It's the least he should do for such a good girl.

Just like he said, it doesn't take much. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as your orgasm rips through your body, subtle waves pulsing from your stomach to the tips of your toes. You let out a strangled moan of his name, causing a wicked smile to grace his lips. His fingers fuck you through it all, coated in your juices and sliding over your clit easily until your trembling from overstimulation.

"Too much," you whimper, breathless when he continues to abuse your poor bundle of nerves.

"You couldn't cum, could you?"

"What?"

"In the shower. You touched yourself for so long but you couldn't do it on your own. I touched you for five minutes and you cream like that? You need me, admit it."

His words crush you but he's right. Even now, as he suddenly pulls his hand away, you can feel your walls still spasming in earnest begging for his fingers to return, or even better, for his cock to fill you up.

He watches you twist around to face him. Slowly, you look at him with deep eyes sinking into his gaze and a voiceless question on your lips.

"Say it," he commands. "Say you need me to make you cum."

It's pointless. You caved. He touched you. You let him. You liked it. But still. There's something in his eyes that has you pausing. A hunger. Restrains that aren't doing much as this point, they're bound to snap any second as he leans closer, eyes fanning over your face and bouncing between your lips and your nose.

Your towel drops to the ground. "I need you."

He scans your body up and down, swallowing hard when he see the absolute mess between your legs dripping down your thigh. He wants to touch you again, but stops.

"Just my fingers?"

He needs you to say it, give him permission to use more, do more. When his tongue pokes out and wets his lips, you get an idea of what he's thinking.

"No." You place his hands on your ass and urge him to give a tight squeeze. "Said you wanna know how I taste. Wanna know what your name sounds like when I'm filled with your cock, don't you?"

There's a physically obvious effect your words have on him. With his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you roughly against his body now, his dick straining against his sweats and poking between your thighs. He sighs, deep like gravel and then inhales a sharp hiss as his hips grind against you and his teeth nibble at the sensitive skin of your bottom lip.

"Just one time?"

"Just one time."

::

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