jungkook is still blissfully unaware of so many things. there's no real way for him to know what yoongi thinks of him, how he thinks of him, how he measures up compared to the rest of the subs that he knows the older man has had before. he isn't entirely sure all the time if he's doing well, can only rely on the older man's praise but even just going off of that, it seems like he's keeping it up well enough. the best part of it all, though, is that he doesn't have to try. he had to in the beginning, when it was all still new, when he was getting used to it, testing the waters and learning the rules. now that he knows them, though, now that he knows just how much he loves being controlled, loves being a good boy, it comes to him practically just as easy as breathing.
breathing, though, is proving to be a little hard in a situation like this one. jungkook might feel something along the lines of pathetic if he were capable of more coherent thought, of worrying about things like that, if he weren't already so worked up that his mind was hazing over with the very first, teasing touch that yoongi brushed against him. now, it feels like he's fucking drunk on yoongi's cock already and he isn't even all the way inside yet, thrusts still shallow, but already so, so good that jungkook can't possibly imagine something even better. he's lucky. so, so lucky, and this is already hands down the best reward he's ever received.
it is distracting, though, the way that his arms are protesting more and more at the strain of keeping the position up when all he really wants to do is let go, give himself over to it, but that isn't his choice to make. it's yoongi's, and he makes it for him soon enough, when he's sliding his touch up to push at jungkook's until he's face down on the mattress, groaning against the cool, white sheets when it only makes the older man's cock slide in that much more, deeper, better, filling him up so completely. yoongi stays there, and jungkook barely picks up on his voice, that dark tone, the words slipping into the space between them. he does, though, enough that he can turn his head to the side. "i'm sorry, daddy," slips out between his harsh breaths, catching on another whine, more of those sounds that yoongi just draws out of him, that he doesn't bother stopping, especially not now. "it feels so good.."
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breathing, though, is proving to be a little hard in a situation like this one. jungkook might feel something along the lines of pathetic if he were capable of more coherent thought, of worrying about things like that, if he weren't already so worked up that his mind was hazing over with the very first, teasing touch that yoongi brushed against him. now, it feels like he's fucking drunk on yoongi's cock already and he isn't even all the way inside yet, thrusts still shallow, but already so, so good that jungkook can't possibly imagine something even better. he's lucky. so, so lucky, and this is already hands down the best reward he's ever received.
it is distracting, though, the way that his arms are protesting more and more at the strain of keeping the position up when all he really wants to do is let go, give himself over to it, but that isn't his choice to make. it's yoongi's, and he makes it for him soon enough, when he's sliding his touch up to push at jungkook's until he's face down on the mattress, groaning against the cool, white sheets when it only makes the older man's cock slide in that much more, deeper, better, filling him up so completely. yoongi stays there, and jungkook barely picks up on his voice, that dark tone, the words slipping into the space between them. he does, though, enough that he can turn his head to the side. "i'm sorry, daddy," slips out between his harsh breaths, catching on another whine, more of those sounds that yoongi just draws out of him, that he doesn't bother stopping, especially not now. "it feels so good.."