fall in deeper, m | jjk, myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, ft. jungkook
previous: waiting for, m | jjk, myg
summary: Jeon Jungkook is now going, in person, to take erotic photos of his favorite sex worker... who just so happens to be Min Yoongi's girlfriend. Ah. Maybe he's going to die. He's probably going to die. But he promised... and he wants to. Very much. Shit. Press the fucking buzzer, Jungkook. Just do it! He doesn't.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (yg/you); if it isn’t obvious already, sex work involving erotic photography; JK is v scared Yoongi is going to murder him but also v horny for Yoongi's gf (happens to the best of us); smut (fem reader, descriptions of erotic photos, slight D/s themes (with JK taking commands from Yoongi), m-masturbation, restraint, edging, facial, photography during sex, m-receiving oral, fingering, cum eating); non-idol!AU - (secret) sex worker!reader x music producer!Yoongi ft video editor and photographer!Jungkook; Jungkook’s POV
--
Jungkook was scared.
No.
Not scared. Closer to three seconds away from shitting his pants, full-blown terrified.
He should turn around.
If he turned around and called his hyung and told him he was sick or he had something come up, Yoongi wouldn’t bat an eye. Well, maybe he would, but then Jungkook didn’t have to look him in the face and know that Yoongi knew that he had jacked off to the sound of his girlfriend being eaten out by his hyung.
Her boyfriend.
His fingers clutched his camera bag, heart pounding in his chest, threatening to break out of his ribcage.
Was Yoongi going to kill him?
They planned it though, didn’t they? Was it just a very good guess? They must have known. They had to have known. Then again, maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they only knew that he knew how to work a camera and were asking around their friends for help? But maybe someone told them. Maybe Jimin told them. But… why? Because Jimin also knew he had overreacted and been unreasonably jealous. That’s reason enough to not ask Jungkook for help. That was reason enough to be punished.
Fuck, how he wanted to be punished.
The door suddenly opened.
“Are you impersonating a garden gnome?” asked a gruff voice.
Jungkook jumped.
“H-Hyung…!”
Min Yoongi.
The shorter, dark-haired man raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I live here. Thought you knew that, considering I texted you the address this morning,” he replied dryly. “You’re late.”
Technically, he wasn’t. Jungkook just hadn’t pressed the buzzer.
He gulped. “H-How did you know I was here?”
Yoongi raised a hand covered in the sleeve of a large beige sweater. It had a low v-neckline, exposing his clavicle and the silver chain necklace he usually wore. The sleeves were so long that they covered his hands. A single pale finger poked out of the end of the fuzzy cuff.
“There’s a camera, obviously.”
There was. A buzzer and camera combination, as most small homes had in this neighborhood.
“O… Oh.”
Jungkook looked down at the ground. Yoongi was wearing black jeans with large rips at the knees and thighs. He was wearing black slippers too, trimmed with fluffy black fur. He wasn’t holding a knife. Okay. He didn’t seem hostile, either. Annoyed, yes. Murderous, unclear. The hand dropped, sleeve swinging in his vision.
“Come in.”
The fur slippers backed up into the house.
Jungkook sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head, entering the darkness.
Instantly, breathless.
He didn’t know what he expected, but he should have known. Jungkook recognized the haunting wallpaper of the entryway, matte black with a gothic lace overlay in a black satin finish. He had seen it before, in haunting photos of ivory lace and curved white horns, a demon bride with a white lace blindfold, slowly stripped and descending to her knees. She had looked good then too, covered in lace and pearls, leaning against the contrasting black wallpaper.
Yoongi dropped a pair of black slippers in front of him.
“Shoes off.”
He swallowed and removed his shoes carefully to put the slippers on. He had never been in this house before. Yoongi had moved from his apartment six months ago, citing he needed more space for a home studio since he was getting busy at the company he worked for. His hyung worked for a far larger music company than he did, already an award-winning music producer at a young age.
Yoongi turned away from him and walked further inside.
Six months ago, _thehornedsin’s photos had started changing. The sets more extravagant, the props more varied, the outfits even more beautiful. The only thing that remained the same was her perfect, perfect body.
Jungkook followed, eyes darting around, trying to not think about how aroused he was getting by simply being in this house.
Pausing.
“W… Wow…”
Yoongi stopped, looking back. “Oh. Yeah. She makes them. Clay, resin.”
Jungkook was staring at a group of intricately made trophy sculptures. All dragons. Dragons with triangular, pointed heads, some with their red mouths open and white teeth bared, painted so realistically that he had to look twice. He could see the detail of each carved scale, each hair, the reptilian eyes glassy, and black slit-like pupils nearly alive, glinting in the overhead light.
Yoongi walked back, standing next to him to look up as well.
“They hold the horns.”
Each head held a familiar set of ram horns, their colors matching the dragon’s scales, perched on top of each head, small indents holding the headbands in place so they wouldn’t budge once fitted. Despite being curved ram’s horns, they fitted seamlessly, giving the dragons wicked, violent appearances.
“Why dragons?” Jungkook breathed.
Yoongi snorted. “Because I don’t want a wall full of goats. We compromised.”
He was so in awe that he couldn’t laugh. “She made these?”
“Yeah. She likes sculpting,” his hyung said absentmindedly. “She makes a new dragon head for every set of horns she makes.” He chuckled. “Keeps her from making too many.”
Jungkook felt his pulse roar in his ears.
He tore his eyes away from the horns, trying not to remember every photoset that each went with, only to come face-to-face with Yoongi’s blank stare. He jerked back, grip on his camera bag faltering.
Long, cool fingers closed around his hand, reinforcing his hold.
He saw his own shocked expression in those dark brown orbs.
“Careful.”
His voice was smooth and deep. His knuckles pressed against Jungkook’s chest and his indigo sweatshirt. He could feel the edges of Yoongi’s fist right above his racing heart. Those piercing eyes flickered to his, staring straight into his soul.
“Nervous?” Yoongi asked in a low, dangerous tone.
Jungkook stopped breathing.
The pale hand released him. “Take you camera out.”
“W… What?”
Those dark brown eyes narrowed. “Take your camera out of your bag.”
Jungkook lifted his hand and slowly unzipped his bag, pulling out his camera, bewildered. Was he going to check it or something…? Instead, Yoongi reached over and picked up the strap, putting it around Jungkook’s shoulders. He stiffened at the contact, unsure if this was a trick or not, but Yoongi just stepped back, crossing his arms, speaking to him sternly.
“Remember, I can’t be in the photos, so make sure I’m not in them.”
“O… Okay?”
The black-haired man’s eyes narrowed, frowning at him.
“Uh, I mean, I understand. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Yoongi paused and nodded, turning back around, beckoning him to follow. They passed the living room and the kitchen, stopping at the door at the very end of the hallway where perhaps a small office or bedroom would be. Jungkook noticed there was a number pad on this door. Yoongi lifted his hand and pressed the combination so fast that Jungkook didn’t catch it. The door unlocked and the older man held the door open for him.
Her.
Jungkook felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Yoongi, I’m freezing–”
She turned around, elegant, beautiful, dark brows and painted lips, a slash of red contrasting her smooth skin, wearing nothing but a dark plum lingerie set trimmed in black lace, large nipples poking out of the thin fabric. A matching garter belt and sheer stockings. Wicked, sleek, black high heels that made Jungkook want to scream, oh my fucking God, please step on me.
On her head, intricate black ram’s horns that faded to purple tips surrounded by a crown of black skulls and dark florals to help them blend into her hair. Over her eyes, plum lace layered over violet velvet, already blindfolded.
Fuck.
He could… if he just stepped forward… he could… touch her…
Jungkook completely forgot that he should probably say something.
“You should have put the robe on,” Yoongi tutted behind him.
She clicked her tongue. “You blindfolded me and then you said you would be right back. How am I supposed to find the robe?”
“You have hands.”
“I don’t want to undo your hard work, especially when Jungkook didn’t even show up and now you have to take the photos again,” she sighed, rubbing one of her upper arms, the action causing her breasts to squish together. “I already asked you to retake this set because I didn’t like the lighting in your first attempt.”
His hyung stepped around him, shuffling to the side. Jungkook was too busy staring right in front of him to notice whatever else was in the room. He was only looking at the sexiest woman in the world wearing next to nothing right in front of his face, all other functions broken.
“You can always repay me. You know how,” Yoongi was saying.
She chuckled, dark and dangerous.
“Aren’t you brave today, Yoongi?” she purred. “Asking to get manhandled already.”
Jungkook nearly passed out with all the blood that rushed out of his head and into his dick.
“What can I say? I’m a simple man. Here, raise your arms.”
And now Jungkook finally looked around him, realizing Yoongi was holding a thick, dark purple, floor length robe made of crushed velvet, draping it over her shoulders as she sighed, thank you, Yoongi, his hyung’s chuckle as he took her hand, step this way for me, that’s it, my love, clicks of her high heels making his arousal spike through his veins. Yoongi led her towards the white studio backdrop, simple, clean, nothing to distract from the beauty that was her.
Jungkook chewed on his lip, clutching his camera so hard his knuckles were white.
“You sure you don’t want a prop?”
“The theme this month is simplicity,” she hummed. “Stripping it back to what it was before all the fancy props. Besides, I think all the props were messing up the lighting anyway. They cast weird shadows. You’re not used to it, Yoongi. Everyone will notice if the photos aren’t coming out with the same quality.”
Yoongi pressed two fingers to her chin, holding her head straight. “I tried. I’m not Taehyung.”
“I know,” she said softly, reaching up, stroking his knuckles. “I will try to find someone else to help you since the whole Jungkook thing didn’t work out.”
He opened his mouth, about to say, I’m here, but Yoongi’s other hand shot up, followed by a silencing glare. Jungkook shut up immediately, frozen by that piercing gaze.
“How’s my lipstick?”
“Perfect,” Yoongi drawled, tone dropping lower. “Makes me want to fuck it up.”
She chuckled, smirk on her lips. “Who else is gonna do it but you?”
Yoongi stepped back, gesturing to Jungkook to step up. “Going to get the camera.”
“Mmm. Take test shots if you need to.”
To be honest, Jungkook did not know what the fuck he was supposed to be doing, looking around, seeing rolls of backdrops neatly hung up on one wall, familiar furniture and props stacked in another corner, a door to the side – perhaps a bathroom? – and several softbox lights in a semicircle, directed to the white backdrop. There was a table nearby with makeup and a pile of clothes, along with a Canon camera, an older DSLR, but a solid choice for still photography. He spotted Yoongi adjusting the lights as she stood patiently, draped in purple velvet, one shoulder sliding down and revealing the naked skin underneath, red lips slightly parted, head tilted slightly.
Jungkook raised his camera, viewing her through the lens.
He took a silent step to the right, and now the light was cast over her glossy red lips and catching the sheen of the lace, the large ram’s horns framing those beautiful cheeks. The hint of a smile or a smirk, not quite one or the other, confusing the viewer, leaving them to decipher that enigma.
Her tiny pink tongue flickered at the edge of her lips and Jungkook snapped a shot.
Click!
“Ah, Yoongi! At least warn me.” Her brows furrowed. Her face slowly pivoted in Jungkook’s direction. “I bet I looked stupid.”
“It was a test shot, silly,” Yoongi chuckled, coming up behind Jungkook and making his hairs stand on end. “And you never look stupid. You always look perfectly fuckable.”
Jungkook wholeheartedly agreed.
“Mmm, yes, that’s what you said when you took a picture of my fucking knees.”
“Your kneecaps are perfectly fappable content.”
She laughed, lovely and full. “Only you think that, I’m sure.”
No, Yoongi was not the only person who thought that. Jungkook made sure of that.
Hands on his shoulders and Jungkook seized up, fear and unease eating through him, so close to saying something, but Yoongi’s hand slid off his shoulder and over his mouth, his lips close to his ear, sending his mind reeling at the closeness of his hyung, unsure if it was terror or something else, barely catching the words of warning, take the pictures and don’t talk, his furious nod in response, but Yoongi was already ignoring him, speaking once again to the woman in black and plum.
Sin.
“Ready? You have all the shots you want in mind, right?” Yoongi called, nudging Jungkook to move as he saw fit.
“Ah, yeah, let’s see, how about one like this?”
Jungkook didn’t know what to expect. For him, they were just pictures. He didn’t think of them past that. Of course, he thought of her, but the picture themselves and the realism behind them was not something he questioned, because the photos were a seamless sequence. How much of a joint effort it was between photographer was artist was not something he was aware of – until now.
She was…
Perfection.
For first pose, one hand on the side of her head, framing her temple with fanned fingertips, the other hovering by her waist, her fingers ghosting the tie of the robe that was half-open, teasing what was underneath. Blinded eyes and soft smile, all the details falling into place, from the position of her spread fingers, to the pointed nails painted dark violet with a black lace overlay and black crystals, to the shift of weight and the extension of one leg in front of the other, peeking out of the depths of the purple velvet.
Oh.
Fuck me.
Jungkook took the shot, but frowned, noticing the fold in the back of the robe and the odd look of the fallen right shoulder. He nudged Yoongi, pointing to the two spots. The older male watched his wordless communication and nodded, already speaking to her.
“Hold your pose. There’s a wrinkle in the back.”
“Okay.”
Diligently, Yoongi hurried over to smooth it out, standing up and slightly adjusting her elbow and the drape of the bottom of the robe, hiding a bit more of her leg and correcting the shoulder as well. She stood perfectly still as if she had done this many, many times. Yoongi glanced at Jungkook and he gave him the okay with his index and thumb making a circle, the rest of his fingers extended.
“Alright, let me move back and take a couple shots.”
“Take your time,” she replied patiently.
Jungkook went about it the only way he could think of – what he himself wanted to see. He took the shots carefully and with composition in mind. A balance of light and dark, wordlessly letting Yoongi know what to do, and Yoongi directed her verbally, move your hand, tip your head up a little more, okay, good, let’s change positions, and she did it with ease, toying with the tie of the robe, leaving the expression to her decadent lips because her eyes couldn’t play a factor in her expressions, the slightest tick of the side of her lips, click, the flicker of tongue, click, undoing the tie, hands turned inward, pressed against her cleavage and her core, playful half-smirk, click, robe falling to her elbows, her hands cupping her breasts, stretching the fabric taut over her hard nipples, pink tongue curled outwards, demanding for a cock to be in that mouth, click, fuck, Jungkook was losing it a little, one of her hands sliding in and scooping her breast out, the other hand extended as she squeezed her large, declivous-looking nipple between two knuckles.
Click.
Her two hands framing her uncovered breasts, squeezing them between her fingers, nipples sticking out right in front of his face.
Click.
A close-up.
He was breathing so hard that Yoongi’s hand slid over his mouth, shutting him up.
“You alright over there, Yoongi?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I’m fine,” was Yoongi dry reply, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook.
He looked back with wide eyes, praying that his hyung could tell he was thinking, what the fuck am I supposed to do, she’s literally my wet dream standing in front of me!
“Are you upset that Jungkookie didn’t come?” Yoongi asked. His eyes were replying to him. Shut up and get a damn grip. He was buying time for Jungkook to do so, it seemed.
She lowered her hands, sighing. “I thought you said he wanted to fuck me to the next dimension and follow me there and fuck me some more.”
Jungkook whipped his head to Yoongi. The black-haired man shrugged as if to say, am I wrong?
Well.
He wasn’t, but…
“But you seem to be wrong, considering he didn’t come even though you asked. I told you he’s not into me as much as you think he is,” she went on, waving a hand, oblivious to their silent interaction. “Ah, that phone call was a bad idea. I think we scared him off. Did you even tell him that we would pay him?”
He was definitely scared, although it was more of the man with cat-like eyes wordlessly threatening to murder him if he spoke and less about getting paid.
“He knows he’ll be getting paid.”
Yoongi said it very ominously. Jungkook blinked at him.
She sighed. “it’s too bad, really. He was always my favorite of your friends.”
Jungkook jerked his head to her, jaw open. What?
“But he never wanted to talk to me much.” She frowned. “Maybe he was ashamed.”
“He’s not ashamed,” Yoongi interjected. “He’s pretending not to be horny every time you say his name and failing.”
The words hit Jungkook hard and he staggered a bit, rubbing his chest at the blow. His hyung mouthed, you’re very obvious, and he shifted his eyes, wincing.
“Wouldn’t that be nice if Jungkook wanted to play with me?” she purred, sighing softly, voice soaked with longing and desire. “Would you let me, Yoongi?”
Jungkook froze.
Maybe his brain exploded.
“I told you I would if he showed up.”
Before Jungkook could scream, my ass is right here, take me now, Yoongi clamped a hand over his mouth and started speaking again, muffling anything Jungkook had to say. He flailed about silently in his hyung’s surprisingly strong grip, frustrated and horny and confused, wondering why Yoongi wasn’t letting him do anything if apparently it was allowed, holy shit, his mind was still reeling now that he knew it was allowed, it was allowed, hyung is going to let me touch his girlfriend at some point, holy shit–
“Isn’t it about time that you get on your knees?” Yoongi was saying.
An eyebrow raised over the blindfold. “What?”
“Let’s do a point-of-view shot this time.”
Her head tilted. “Oh? So suddenly?”
“They love that shit. I can cum in your mouth or on your face. Pick one.”
The number of times Jungkook short-circuited today was surely, surely going to result in permanent brain damage. He was going to watch his hyung jack off onto his girlfriend’s face? Jungkook wasn’t particularly religious but, what the fuck, please, have mercy on his poor horny little soul.
“I’ll let you cum on my face,” she answered, cocky and arrogant.
“Why is it that whenever you say something that is supposed to sound submissive, you sound smug as hell?” Yoongi chuckled.
She smirked, open-mouthed and devious.
-
So.
She was naked now, save the sheer stockings, and now the memory card of his camera was full of naked pictures of her. Jungkook was mouthing to Yoongi, what is going on? And Yoongi was mouthing back, shut the fuck up.
“Let me mess this up for you.”
“Mmm…”
And now he was watching Yoongi cup her chin, tilt it up, both of them on their knees, pressing his lips to hers, ugh, he wanted it to be him, that was a messed-up thing to think but Jungkook did, he wanted it to be him, watching their pink tongues cross, listening to her soft moan and Yoongi soft growl, fuck, I want that to be me, please, fuck, please, begging in his head, heartbeat racing, even if it’s a three-way kiss, just let he be part of it, please, internally screaming. Her hands came up and gripped Yoongi’s beige sweater, black and violet nails contrasting the soft knitted fabric, gasping, one of Yoongi’s pale hands tangling in her hair, pulling it back, careful not to mess up her horns, smearing her lipstick down the left side of her chin and down her neck, leaving bright red kiss marks imprinted on her beautiful skin.
Yoongi’s dark brown orbs were on Jungkook, eyebrow cocked at him.
Jungkook bit back anything he had to say and remained patient.
It was not going to last for much longer, but also, neither was he. His underwear was despairingly damp with the amount of pre-cum leaking out of him.
“There we go,” Yoongi murmured, releasing her slowly, lovingly.
Her hands came up and made sure her horns were balanced well as Yoongi stood up, his lips covered in red. She seemed to know what was coming next, waiting, and Yoongi came back with the tube of lipstick, reapplying it carefully so her plump lips were once again highlighted, perfectly messy.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Yoongi backed off and Jungkook waited a moment, seeing her idle pose. There was elegance in it, on her knees, sitting down, thighs spilling over the tops of the stockings, hands behind her back, forearm over forearm, breasts exposed and lipstick down her throat.
She tipped her head back, rolling out her neck and Jungkook snapped a photo.
Click.
He looked at it.
Fuck.
That body line of neck to tits to waist to pussy to thighs.
“You’re taking a lot of test shots, Yoongi,” she remarked, lowering her head. “You think you’re getting the hang of it?”
Over Jungkook’s shoulder, a presence neared, wiping his lips with a tissue, observing the photo. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at Jungkook, who felt his cheeks flush and he looked away, ears heated all of a sudden.
“Something like that,” was Yoongi’s calm, neutral response.
But, most of all, I just want you to be mine.
It was a hopeless hope, a pointless prayer, an almost romantic photo, and Jungkook knew it was, he knew Yoongi could see it, but this was art, she was art, and it was going to be apparent and obvious like that because Jungkook didn’t know how to hide it. It was impossible to hide if it was his work and his hyung’s girlfriend was the main focal point.
Yoongi was grabbing him by the hips.
Um!
He planted Jungkook in front of his girlfriend.
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi leaned his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder and spoke downward, his deep voice vibrating him down to his thundering heart in his ribcage.
“Look up for me, my love.”
She looked up, half-smirk on her lips. Teasing. Yoongi had to pinch Jungkook to remind him that he should take the downwards photo of her looking up at him, otherwise he was too in shock to believe that was what he was doing right now, looking down at that pretty face, those tits, the peek of juicy ass under her arms, oh shit, he was millimeters away from whining, please, hyung, please let me touch her.
“That’s it. Lean back, angle your tits up.”
Click.
“Tongue?”
Click.
“Mmm, yes, that’s the one. Show me your pussy.”
Her knees spread apart and she balanced on one hand as the other reached in between her legs, Jungkook becoming breathless, two elegant fingers spreading her slick, pretty pussy open, already wet, viscous juices sticking to her inner thighs and all over the inner lips, the hole flexing as she grinned, devilish and dirty.
Okay.
Jungkook’s dick was actually going to rip out of his pants.
Yoongi whispered in his ear, almost soundless.
“Take the picture.”
He raised his camera, breathing hard, staring through the viewfinder. Made sure the composition was perfect, the light reflecting off the glossiness, capturing the perfect ratio of waist to hips and the perkiness of her nipples, and of course.
That naughty smile and lipstick kisses down her neck.
Click.
“Back up, my love,” Yoongi murmured, his hot breath against Jungkook’s neck.
She took her time, humming softly, placing her hands on her thighs.
Power. That’s what it felt like. Blindfolded, on her knees, naked, messy lipstick smears, wearing fake ram’s horns, but there was unmistakable power in her stance and the tick of her head, and he wanted to beg, noona, please, he wanted to plead for mercy and yet he also didn’t, keeping his breathing quiet and shallow, trying to pretend he wasn’t there, something exciting about it, something sexy about it, fuck, it was turning it him on, he didn’t understand why or how, but it was. From the beginning until now, Yoongi forcing him to be silent and her not knowing he was there.
It was ruining him and Jungkook realized now that he liked it.
Pop.
Jungkook almost jumped and made a muted noise, clutching his camera tightly as Yoongi unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper.
“Hm, already, huh?” she mused.
“Do you want me to take a picture of my dick?” Yoongi chuckled at Jungkook’s shoulder.
“I keep asking you to, but you say you won’t.”
“No, I won’t. This is about you.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
Yoongi dragged his jeans down.
Is.
Going.
On.
Yoongi dragged his boxer briefs down.
Jungkook’s disturbingly hard cock popped out, strings of pre-cum snapping, smelling very strongly of sex, gasp at his throat, freezing up as Yoongi unlatched his right hand from the camera and lowered it, did hyung just strip me, what the fuck, instincts kicking in, her red lips right in front of him, scooting closer, f-fuck, I can feel her warm breath, Yoongi closing his hand around his throbbing cock, and Jungkook was gone, gone, unable to stop it anymore, pent up arousal and prolonged silence and now actually being able to touch himself?
Her lips centimeters away from the red head of his cock?
No, he didn’t have the control anymore, Yoongi’s other hand clamping over his mouth, Jungkook cutting off his own whimpers stroking his length, fuck, he wanted to cry, it feels so good, it felt so, so fucking good, thrusting into his hand, tight grip almost too tight, the slap of skin to skin, practically choking his dick, abusing it, punishing it a little, Yoongi’s hot breath on his neck, watching over his shoulder.
She exhaled, hot and sweet, over his hand and twitching length.
Jungkook groaned low in his throat, eyes rolling back.
“You like that?” she purred.
“I always do,” Yoongi murmured, chuckling deeply.
“You going to edge yourself, or should I?” she asked, hand raising.
“Let me do it,” Yoongi snickered, rasp husky and deep.
Jungkook wanted to scream, please, please don’t, breathing hard, harder, and yet he also wanted to scream, please, please do, he wasn’t sure anymore, his body was numb with pleasure, at this point wanting to take anything, anything, do whatever you want noona, close, closer, whimpering behind Yoongi’s tight grip over his mouth, eyelids fluttering, his cock twitching, pulsating, so hard the veins were prominent, a-almost…!
Yoongi’s other hand suddenly shot out and clamped around Jungkook’s pumping fist, stilling it immediately.
Jungkook screamed behind Yoongi’s palm, nearly crying in frustration.
“Shh…”
Yoongi was whispering in his ear.
Jungkook whimpered, shuddering.
“Shh…”
She was front of him, cooing softly.
“Don’t you want to cum on noona’s face?”
Yoongi’s hand left his panting mouth, his vision distorted, croaking out a response, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to be talking.
“Y… Yes… Please…”
Wait.
Jungkook blinked rapidly, still gripping his throbbing erection, shaking his head as Yoongi stepped back, looking down at an enigmatic smile and cocked brow under that blindfold. The smile and brow dropped suddenly, commanding growl in her tone.
“Keep going. Get yourself off, Jungkook.”
“B-But…” he sputtered, but Yoongi’s hand was around his hand again, nudging him to follow the command, and his body had no reservations like his mind did, too horny to give a shit, he needed to cum and cum now, this was not a debate, stroking himself automatically, but Jungkook was still stammering, the shock prolonging his orgasm, which might have been a blessing or a curse depending on how he looked at it later. “How... How did you…?”
She chuckled. “I know what Yoongi smells like. I knew it was you.” She tilted her head. “You ever hear that with the loss of one sense, your others become sharpened? Well, I’m no Daredevil, but I would recognize your breathing anywhere, Jungkook.”
He was breathing very had now, staring at her tits and her red lips forming every word, beautiful and mesmerizing.
“I pay attention to all the little details about you, Jungkook.”
He whimpered. God, how he loved it when she said his name.
“The way you stiffen up when I get close.” Her voice was low, teasing, amused, and Jungkook liked it, fuck, something must be wrong with him with how much he liked it. “The way you stare when I kiss Yoongi.” Jungkook was beginning to realize he would make the worst spy of all time, fucking shit. “The way you watch Yoongi’s hands when he touches me and pulls me close.”
He whined, desperate, caught, biting his lip.
“I… I’m sorry… I thought… you wouldn’t notice…”
“Of course, I would notice,” she murmured, leaning in, fuck, he nearly came but he bit the inside of his cheek, flaring pain stifling it just a little longer. “I like looking at you.”
Breath in his throat, gripping himself tighter, his stiff cock pulsing with need.
“I’ve always wanted to see all of you.”
He whimpered, desperate, needy.
“Wanted to taste you, Jungkook.”
And her pink tongue extended out of her red lips, head tipping back slightly, ready to receive him.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
Her name tumbled out of his mouth, no honorifics, shit, he forgot, mixing dreams and reality, thinking she was his, but it was too late, pitching forward, thick white strings shooting into her mouth and on those perfect red lips, splattering up to her cheek, her amused chuckle in his ears, letting him paint her face with his release, gasping, oh fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and Yoongi prodding his side impatiently.
“Take the picture before it falls off,” Yoongi commanded sternly.
Jungkook panted, lifting his camera, telling his body to still, adrenaline and ecstasy flying through him, zooming in, focusing, taking the perfect ending shot. Once. Twice. Three times.
That was his.
That was his cum on her face and it was going to be distributed to the patrons, including Jimin.
Holy.
Shit.
He lowered the camera.
Her tongue circled her lips, licking it off slowly. Her hand reached up and undid the blindfold carefully, letting it fall to the ground. Fingers rose to her cheek and wiped the remaining cum off, licking them slowly, her eyes on him.
Her eyes.
No makeup, exquisite shape, lovely lashes and knowing gaze, now seeing him grip his camera tightly with his pants around his fucking knees.
“N-Noona…”
She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you wanna use honorifics?”
Shit. She noticed. Well, of course, she noticed, how could she not, he was supposed to use them and be respectful, shit, um, she was staring at him with a smirk, shit, he was getting turned on again but his hands were occupied, shit.
“Let me help you with that.”
“Oh, um, that’s okay, I can just – oh, God!”
She did not mean help him with his camera, which is what he thought, maybe innocently so, not that he wanted to be innocent. No, her hands shot out and gripped his thighs, nails digging in, making him yelp, pulling him to her with stumbling steps, clutching his camera tightly, yelps pitching to moans as her tongue licked up the inside of his thighs, cleaning up the dripping mess, closing around his semi-hard length.
“Fuck, please, noona, o-o-oh…”
He actually forgot Yoongi was there, forgot to have shame that his hyung’s girlfriend was swallowing his cock and enjoying every second of it, his cock being assaulted by the deft work of an expert mouth, hot and wet and swirling tongue, oh, fuck, yes, his legs shaking with pleasure, gasping for breath, looking down at her, the horns steadfast and pinned in place, she was sucking his dick, holy shit, she is naked and sucking my dick!!!
Then Jungkook noticed Yoongi.
Yoongi smirked, kneeling down.
Jungkook was pretty sure his eyeballs were going to fall out of his head.
Watching fingers dancing up her thigh, Jungkook moaning as he felt her low hum of approval, his throat dry and suddenly thirsty seeing the sway her hips, the want with her move, Yoongi’s long fingers sliding into her wetness, everything slowing down, her moan vibrating his cock and his core, turning him on more, more, forgetting this was wrong, actually it probably wasn’t, Yoongi was straight up fingering his girlfriend while she was sucking his dick, so even if it was wrong, all three of them didn’t seem to give a shit. Jungkook was still clutching his camera because he was too afraid to drop it, his moans dark and wild, struggling to take in every detail to remember for every dream thereafter, her head bobbing up and down, her tongue flickering out and licking his balls as she sucked him, what the fuck, that’s porn star status, gasping in awe, again, her pink tongue sliding out and curling around his balls and disappearing back into her mouth while blowing him.
Well.
If Jungkook wasn’t incredibly jealous of Yoongi before, he was absolutely the epitome of envy upon getting his balls licked as his dick was sucked.
“Oh… Oh my God…”
Yoongi’s free hand rose and he dug his nails into her slim back, dragging them down. Her lashes fluttered, moaning deeply around his twitching length, vibrating his hips and thighs, hiking the pleasure, his own eyelids lowering, blinking hard, the buildup threatening him, so tight, so wet, not too fast but so rough, the head buried in her throat, suffocating, tongue lapping from base to tip, so, so good, and he said it over and over and over, how good it felt, noona, fuck, noona, her name, no honorifics, forgetting in between, drunk on pleasure and sinful feeling.
Her eyes opened.
Watching him.
Eyes sparkling with mischief and smugness.
Fuck, Jungkook loved it.
He loved it so fucking much.
Her hips moving back into Yoongi’s hand, Jungkook’s moans hiking, his sounds more uninhibited now, dirtier, yearning, losing it, whimpering, wanting to tip his head back but not wanting to look away, staring into her tempting eyes, commanding him to do it, going, going, gone.
“Gonna… cum for you… fuck!”
He exploded into her mouth, strangled moan torn from his throat, eyes rolling back, emptying what was left into her tight throat, cock jerking and flinching at the sensitivity, dribbling down as she swallowed, her muffled cries making him shiver, her nails digging into his thighs, jamming him all the way down her throat and squirming, her hips shaking, and Jungkook could smell it, thick, sweet, her orgasm soaking Yoongi’s fingers, so incredibly jealous that he whimpered, looking back down, seeing red lipstick imprinted around the base of his cock.
She drew back, licking him all over, hot exhale shaky and erratic, chuckling deeply.
Yoongi stood up.
Jungkook was barely standing. She stopped at the head, soft, languid curls of wet muscle around the sensitive skin, his mouth open, breathing hard, watching with hazed eyes, intoxicated on sin.
Then they snapped open as Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into Jungkook’s mouth.
“Mphf!”
He jerked his head over to his hyung, shocked as Yoongi calmly thrust his fingers down his throat, coating the insides of his mouth with the sweet, addicting taste of his girlfriend’s pussy, surprise turning to depraved moans, his tongue swirling around his hyung’s fingers, whining as the head of his cock was coaxed by his noona’s tongue.
Yoongi leaned forward, growling in his ear.
“Don’t forget to show her the pictures.”
-
She held his face in her hands.
“N… Noona…”
Just her, no horns, no fancy clothing. Just her, wearing his indigo sweater, on his lap.
“Hm?”
On the bed she shared with Yoongi.
“Did I do a good job?” Jungkook asked nervously, biting his lip. “Did you like the photos when you reviewed them?”
“I did. Do you want to edit them? Or should I? I can pay you more if you edit them. Makes it easier for me.”
He nodded quickly, thinking of the hours he would spend at his computer staring at the plethora of pictures of her naked body. “I can edit them. You don’t have to–”
“Shhh… Good work always gets repaid, Jungkook.”
Her kiss like a drug, lips to bare lips, no more lipstick. Fuck. Jungkook wanted to kiss her forever.
“But… I don’t want money…”
She drew back, tilting her head. Yoongi came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder, watching Jungkook with her. He gulped, chewing on his lower lip some more. He was asking too much. He shouldn’t – uh oh, his mouth was already talking.
“I just… want time… if that’s okay with hyung…”
Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “With me? You should be asking her first.”
Jungkook’s eyes shifted to hers, her eyebrow raised, expression scrutinizing. “Er… if you want to, noona… if you want me…”
She smirked.
“We do have that spare bedroom upstairs in case you ever want to come over and work… It will make it easier to take the extra candid shots for the highest paid tier if you’re around more often.”
His eyes widened, excitement bubbling in his ribcage.
“Hmm, my customers will be spoiled then, won’t they, Jungkook?”
Fuck, he loved it when she said his name.
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