#bts jungkook reactions
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Imagine Jungkook when he tells you that you two need to break up
#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop reactions#kpop scenarios#bts#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts jungkook#bts jungkook imagines#bts jungkook reactions#bts jungkook scenarios#jungkook#jungkook imagines#jungkook reactions#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook reactions#jeon jungkook scenarios#kpop idol#kpop idol imagines#kpop idol reactions#kpop idol scenarios
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summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.
> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k
> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(
> in which masterlist!
note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3
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a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.
“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.
“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”
he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.
“can i take more pictures?”
“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.
“i did.”
a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.
you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”
he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.
this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.
he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.
wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.
jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.
a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.
clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.
“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.
“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.
“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.
pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.
at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”
his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.
“____ is so, so pretty.”
“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”
“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.
“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.
“ahhh- ah!”
enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.
his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.
jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.
“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”
“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.
“nice.”
he feels a tug at his heartstrings.
“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”
it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.
“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”
he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.
“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”
you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.
oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?
“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.
you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.
“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”
“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.
but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.
“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”
he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.
“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.
he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.
if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.
“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”
“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.
you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.
“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”
“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”
but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.
you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.
“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.
he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.
your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’
you roll your eyes inside your head.
what a fucking tease.
nonetheless, you acquiesce.
the flash goes off.
and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.
“baby, let me see.”
“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.
he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.
“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.
and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.
jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.
“this is mine!”
he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.
“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.
he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”
you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”
“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”
he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.
“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”
jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.
“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.
he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.
“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.
“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.
“i know.”
he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”
“yes, baby. i believe you.”
a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.
but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.
yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.
“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.
“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.
“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”
his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.
“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”
thank god.
he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.
“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.
“hmm?”
“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”
“…meat?”
“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.
“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”
his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.
cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.
he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook one shot#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you
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— home.
» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mould you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
#hi! 👋#I literally made this blog just to get this fic out of my system lmao 💕#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts fluff
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Butterfly (m)
synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.
j.jungkook x f.reader
୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k
୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content
୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33
୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content
Bum. Bum. Bum.
Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.
Him.
Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.
What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.
Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.
You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.
Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!
Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.
Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.
“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.
“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.
One he had been planning for awhile.
He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.
You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.
You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.
Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.
“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”
Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?
You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.
He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.
Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.
It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.
Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–
Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?
Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.
Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.
Shit. Shit!
You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.
Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.
Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.
Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.
The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.
If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.
It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.
Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.
You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.
Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.
And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.
Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.
Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.
Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.
You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.
Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.
Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.
It’s almost easier that way.
“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.
Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.
He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?
He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.
The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.
Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.
Wow, you actually surprised him.
“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.
You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.
He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.
Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.
You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.
Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.
He really could kill you if he wanted to.
You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.
It scares you more to know that it's the latter.
“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”
He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.
Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.
Shit, maybe you already have, huh?
Good.
He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.
Because you would know it’s what he wants.
“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.
You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.
A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.
You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.
The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.
God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.
But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.
“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”
His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.
“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.
He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”
A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.
“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.
“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.
You break.
“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.
Beg for him. Want him.
His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.
You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.
“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.
His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.
“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.
“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.
Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.
“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.
“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”
You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.
Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.
“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”
His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.
“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.
You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.
Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.
He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.
It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.
He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.
Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.
He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.
“Mine.”
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SIN FOR ME — J.JK
Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader
Genre : smut
★: request, npr , cnc , older!jk , boyfriendsdad!jk , cheating, pwp , named!bf , misunderstandings , slight manipulation, unprotected sex at the beginning, protected sex later on , bigdick!jk , coming on body , cum eating , dirty talk , name calling/nicknames, slight angst — lmk if i missed any!
W/C: 2,919
A/N: thank you to pookie for requesting this!! I had a hard time with the plot 😭✋ but i had fun! Thank you sm for requesting! And also sorry 4 going m.i.a i have js been so off 👎👎🤧🤧🥺🥺 anyways enjoy!!
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
[edited ver.]
Another day came to an end. A bad end. You were cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching whatever popped up first on your recommended shows. You were hoping to get some action tonight, as it’s been a while since you guys had sex. 2 months, to be exact. You were frustrated, of course. He hasn’t touched you or done anything to you for two months. That's the longest you have gone without sex. You tried so hard to push away the negative thoughts. Convincing yourself that he was just busy and tired and definitely not fucking some other bitch.
His parents wouldn’t be coming back home for a couple of hours since his dad is always busy and barely comes home, and his mom is most probably out with another broad. So You tried getting him in the mood. Wearing just a tee and some ck thongs. Rubbing against him. Kissing his neck. But nothing seemed to work. He kept pushing you away. ‘Not now.’ ‘Im not in the mood’ ‘im too tired, not today.’ were just coming out of his mouth like a broken record. But you still didn’t give up! You were determined, but before that- “im gonna go sleep.” You looked up at him, confused. “What?” “Im tired, alright? Im gonna go to bed; you can continue watching your stupid show by yourself.” There was venom laced in his words. It hurt you. Your heart sank. He pushed you away before walking up the stairs. You were trying to hold back your tears. How could he do this to you? You scoff. “Seriously? You’re really not even going to ask me to join you?” Your boyfriend turned around and stared at you blankly. “No. I want some peace and space. Do whatever the hell you want.” And with that, he walked away. You could hear his loud footsteps descend before a loud slam took over.
You huff and try not to cry. It was too overwhelming for you, and you couldn’t help but think about the possibility that he was probably seeing someone else, or else why would he act like this? The waterworks started pouring slowly as you thought about the memories you made with him. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the empty, dark, and cold living space.
————————————————————————
He was mad. So mad. Finding out that his company just fell into a major controversy after all he worked for was not the cherry on top. Jungkook hastily unlocked his house’s door. It was unusually dark. The only light illuminating the space was the soft kitchen light, which his dumbass son forgot to turn off. He dropped his case and trenchcoat by the door before kicking off his shoes and walked further into his home. He noticed a small figure face-down on the couch, sleeping.
You were sleeping on your stomach, your head tucked in your forearm, and your hair covered your face. Your shirt was slightly rolled up, and your ass was on full display. Jungkook walked over and took a good look at your body. He needed something to pour his anger into, and so, assuming that it was his wife, he loosened his tie and sat where your foot rested. His hand went up your thighs before resting on your plump ass, cold fingers fondling with the soft flesh. He grabbed a handful before giving your ass a soft slap. He shuffled to hover over you. His hand cupped your pussy. Palm pushing into the wet hole, dampening your underwear. “…Gonna fuck you, okay, pretty? Just stay still f’ me..” His voice was low and deep. He was still under the impression that it was his wife. Jungkook’s fingers hooked around your underwear before pulling it to the side, exposing your bare cunt. He couldn’t see much, but he noticed how his ‘wife’s’ pussy was glistening in the dark. He circled your entrance with slow movements. Your cunny was getting wet at a quick rate. He swallowed thickly at the soft, warm feeling. Without wasting much time, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants along with his boxers.
Jungkook was rock hard. His tip glowed a deep red, and pre-cum was already dripping down his slit. Using his strong hands, he gently shifted your position so your ass was up in the air. He placed a couch pillow under your abdomen so you could lay comfortably. He hunched over your small frame, his hand gliding his aching tip over your glossy slit. He breathed heavily. It felt too good. Jungkook slowly started pushing himself in. He was struggling. It was easy to slip inside his wife, but this time? It seemed different. But familiar. Still, he continued moving forward. Maybe some miracle had happened to his wife. Who knows. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched your puffy lips swallow his hard length. You were still in deep sleep. The long crying session took a toll on your energy, so you were not really aware of what was happening to your body. Jungkook's breath gets caught in his throat as he finally stuffs you full. Your pussy clenching around his length unknowingly.
Jungkook started moving. Rolling his hips gently. He threw his head back at how your sweet cunny felt around his length. It was hard to believe that it was his wife. You felt warmer. Softer. And, of course, much tighter. Nothing compared to his wife. His eyes were squeezed shut, and short, heavy breaths left his lips as you continued taking him in. His hands grasped your plush hips, gripping the flesh tightly.
“Mmf-“ you let out a soft whine. Jungkook's tight grasp was enough to give you a bit of consciousness. Soft gasps escaped your lips at every thrust. Your stomach felt weird, and your body was getting hot. You were starting to sweat. “Junwoo… feels good…” you mumbled in your sleep. You felt something penetrating your sopping walls and immediately thought that it was your boyfriend. Maybe he felt bad and decided to finally give in.
Jungkook's heart dropped. No way. There's no way. His eyes went wide when you mumbled his son’s name. With shaky hands, Jungkook leaned forward and pushed the hair off of your face. Shock and terror spread all over his body. He stared down at you. His hand is still resting on your cheek. You were mumbling incoherently. You nudged your face into his palm. “Keep..going.. please.” You murmured. Jungkook gulped. He didn’t know what to do. He was fucking his son’s girlfriend! His thumb brushed the side of your cheek. He felt bad for you. He knew about the fact that his idiot son had been cheating on you for the past 3 months. How could he cheat on such a precious piece? He had to treat you right, even if it was wrong.
You were writhing and squirming under his huge build. Consciousness was starting to hit you. Your body felt hot and uneasy. The feeling was something you had never felt before. It was so much better than what junwoo was giving you. It was suspicious. You slowly lifted your head up, wanting to turn around and see ‘your boyfriend’. Jungkook immediately stopped and pulled out. He was still rock hard, and his dick hit his abdomen with a loud -thump-. He gulped heavily. You tuck your hair behind your ears and glance at the man who was fucking into you senseless.
“What the fuck!!!!!” You immediately pushed yourself away from him. Cramming yourself in the corner of his Fendi Casa sofa, your thighs shut together. Your eyes first landed on his twitching cock. Oh, it was big. Bigger than his son’s. It was leaking too, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wetter. It was so wrong. So, so wrong. You immediately come out of a trance and look at the man in front of you. His shirt was open, revealing his built body. “I c-can explain-“Jungkook stuttered. “What the fuck mr.jeon???????? How could you just do that to me???” Jungkook's hands were up in defense. “It’s not what you think, y/n. I was mistaken too.” “Mistaken???? You just raw-dogged me???. You are fucking your son’s girlfriend!!!” Jungkook swallowed hard before looking at you with his dark eyes. “Like it’s not the first time i touched you. Be for real right now, y/n” he rolled his eyes at your reaction. “Yeah! Touched. You have only TOUCHED, me. Its a big difference mr.jeon!” It was true that you both fooled around here and there but that was before you started dating junwoo. And everything ended after you confirmed your relationship with his son who was once your bestfriend.
He was hard af and you felt too good to stop. So there had to be some way to get you convinced. It was about time he told you about his son’s double life. “Look. There’s something you should know. Your boyfriend or my son has been cheating on you.” He did not want to beat around the bush and just dropped the bomb. Your heart shattered, and you felt lightheaded. Your eyes went wide at Jungkook’s claims. You were too stunned to speak and just stared at him. It seemed like it had worked, which prompted him to slowly hover over you, pushing you down softly. “And I know about the fact that my whore of a wife has been cheating on me every day." He looked down and watched as his calloused fingers ran up the soft rolls of your abdomen before making eye contact with you again. “You need this, y/n.. we both need this…” the last 4 words came out in a hush. His words were so sinister, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you process the information. You trembled under his frame. Oh, you definitely needed it. You shook your head before grabbing Jungkook's loose collar and pulling him into a heated kiss. If your now ex boyfriend cheated on you? Might as well start fucking his dad again for revenge.
Jungkook giggled into the kiss and kissed you back. His hand found the back of your head before tightly gripping your soft hair. You whined into his mouth as it started to hurt. Jungkook kissed you further. His tongue tasting the insides of your mouth. He ripped your underwear, making you gasp and whine. “I will get you new ones, pretty, dw” he mumbled into the kiss with a smirk. His dick was rubbing against your bare pussy, making you leak. His hips moved incoherently. He loved the feeling of your wet pussy lip’s coating his length. Jungkook started aligning himself with your entrance, but before he could shove it in, you stopped him. You broke off the intense kiss. A string of saliva connected your lips to his. Jung Kook looked at you in concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You gulped before speaking up. “Protection… mr.Jeon.” You avoided eye contact with him as he narrowed his eyes at you. He let out a soft chortle before reaching down and taking his wallet from his discarded pants.
He pulled out a condom from one of the sleeves before chucking the wallet away. He was sitting on his heels and looked at you with a smirk. “Put it on for me, darling..” You nodded shyly as you sat up a bit and took the condom from his hands. You slowly ripped the blue plastic wrapping and pulled it out, all while innocently staring up at him. Your shaky hands gripped the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze before focusing on pushing the rubber down his huge dick. Jung Kook watched you with pure lust in his eyes. His hand went to the back of your head before forcefully making you look at him, causing you to whimper at the sudden action. “I didn’t know you were such a good girl, y/n..” He gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to him. Your legs rested on his thighs, and his cock rested on your stomach. The length sat comfortably on your plush tummy. “Gonna take me all, baby? Can you do that for me?” You nodded vigorously before slowly moving your hips on his cock for some stimulation. He chuckled at your reaction and hissed as he entered you slowly. now savoring each and every inch of your sweet pussy. You whimpered as you finally felt how big he was. It still hurt, even though he had already dicked you down.
You stared at Jungkook's face, your eyebrows knit together and eyes swelling up with tears, your lips bitten down hard as you watched Jungkook's face contort in pleasure. Sweat dripped down his body, and soft grunts left his mouth as he inched inside you more. His eyes quickly glanced at yours, and he internally fumbled at your expression. Knowing that he was fucking you was making this experience even better.
With a quick thrust, he was fully into you. His tip kissing your spongy spot. Your breath was unsteady and faltering as he had you filled to the brim. His fingers were hooked under your chin and you lifted your face slightly so you could meet his gaze. “Can i?” He asked you gently with a reassuring smile. You nodded at his words before grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. Jungkook's hands held onto your waist, keeping you in place. His hips started moving. Each thrust made him grunt loudly. His pace increased as it got easier to move inside you. Your gummy walls were spasming around his length, and he could feel your warmth. Your both eyes were fixated on the way his dick went in and out of you. His cock would form a small bulge in your lower abdomen every time he pushed into you. “You see that baby? You’re taking me in so well… fuck-“ he was cut off as your pussy clenched. You let out a whine at his words “s-sir.. faster p-please..”
That was all Jungkook needed to hear for him to go absolutely feral on you. The way you begged with that voice sent blood rushing straight to his cock. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to go faster? I will give anything you ask, baby..” His thrusts got harder and faster. You gripped his shoulders tight, and your eyes rolled back as Jungkook hit your sweet spot perfectly. Sounds of wet skin slapping against each other were echoing throughout the whole area. Your moans are starting to get increasingly louder. Jungkooks quickly covered your mouth before leaning down and whispering into your ears. "don't want your boyfriend to hear how much I'm making you feel good, wouldn’t ya?” Tears streamed down your face as his dick abused your hole. Jungkook left wet kisses and purple hickeys on the sides of your neck, going lower and lower. You wrapped your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body as you writhed and twitched in pleasure. Jungkook's cock was ruining your pussy
“Fuck-“ Jungkook's voice got caught in his throat as you clenched around him again. He savoured the warm feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “Taking me so well little girl…” he breathed into your ear in a whisper. Whines after whines left your mouth. His girthy cock, grazing your gummy, warm walls. The grip on your hips got tighter, enough to form visible bruises.
His thrusts were quick and sharp, and it has you seeing stars. You could feel the knot in your stomach reach its peak. He grunted into your neck and lifted his head up to look at you. “Gonna cum pretty? Gonna make a little mess for me?” You nodded and whined as his hand left your mouth and reached down to play with your puffy clit. You choked as he started flicking your sensitive nub. “Make a huge mess for me.. I will make sure my idiot son cleans it up..” he gave you a wink before focusing on helping you reach your orgasm. He was almost close too. His grip on your waist tightened, and he continued pounding into you.
“fuckkk!!!!” Your vision went blurry as you came all over his lower body. Streams of clear liquid coated the couch and his abdomen. Jungkook gawked at the sight, and he was so close to cumming. He quickly pulled out of you before removing the condom. His hand wrapped around his throbbing length, and he started jerking himself off. His head thrown back and mouth agape. “L-look at me baby..” he whispered, and you obeyed. Looking up at him through your dazed state. Eyes glossy, and your face was covered in a thin layer of sheen as you slowly came down from your high. Jungkook opened his eyes, looked at you once, and busted all over your body. Some of his cum even reached your face. A load of his creamy white cum never seemed to stop pouring out of his dick. Your stomach and shirt were stained with the thick liquid. You quickly wiped it off your face, licking it off your fingers as you stared into his eyes with a smirk. Jungkook let out a soft chuckle before reaching down to grab your face so he could kiss you. His lips met yours again, but this time it was more gentle. More passionate. He could taste himself on your lips. “Dirty little girl.“
A/N: thank you for reading!!! I was not rlly sure abt the topic because its the first time i actually wrote a cnc fic w plot 😭🧍♀️but i hope it was upto par!! Also if it seems like the plot gets lost somewhere please ignore 💀✋😨
Masterlist <3
!!
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics#bts#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts reactions#bts x reader#bts army#bts fanfic#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#taehyung smut#jungkook headcanons#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook reaction#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook
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take me down slow | jjk
title: take me down slow
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: m, smut, established relationship au
summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.
warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.
wordcount: 2.2k
note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.
jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.
he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.
but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.
you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.
you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.
a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.
“baby.” you whisper in his ear.
“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.
“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.
that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.
“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.
“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.
“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.
“kook.. so horny..”
“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.
“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.
“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.
“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.
“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.
“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”
“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.
“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.
“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.
you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”
“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.
“i love you.”
“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.
you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.
“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.
“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.
“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”
you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.
“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”
“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.
“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away.
either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.
“yes, need your cock baby.”
“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.
“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.
“so wet.” he mumbles.
you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.
“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.
“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”
you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.
“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.
“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.
“mh... yeah?” asshole.
“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.
“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”
but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.
“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.
you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.
hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.
“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.
“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”
“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.
“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”
“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.
“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.
“that’s not my name, babe.”
oh fuck.
“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.
“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.
“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”
“gonna cum?” he hums.
“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.
“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”
“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.
“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.
“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.
“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.
“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.
“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.
“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.
“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.
you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.
“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.
“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.
“missed your taste.”
“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.
“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.
“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”
“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.
“baby.”
you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”
you smile. “i missed you too.”
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A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐
#jungkook x reader#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fic#bangtan reactions#bangtan x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook reaction#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x y/n#bts x y/n#bangtan smut#gggukniverse
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Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 | Masterlist
A (hopefully) full list of all Home!Content.
Main Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Foreigner!Reader, Major Fluff, established relationship, smut
Main Work :: Part 2
Short #1
Short #2
Drabble: Tired (NSFW)
Drabble: Touch
Drabble: Be Okay pt.1
Drabble: Be Okay pt.2
Drabble: Be Okay pt.3
Drabble: Wine
Drabble: Depending
Drabble: Craving
Drabble: Savoring
Drabble: Back To You (NSFW)
Drabble: Home(Sick)
Ask: Jealousy
Ask: Fighting
Ask: Breakup
Drabble: Promises pt.1
Drabble: Promises pt.2
Ask: Interview
Ask: Watching a movie (NSFW)
Ask: How did they meet?
Ask: How did JK confess?
Drabble: Grateful
Drabble: The things I do for you
Drabble: Toys (NSFW)
Drabble: Anger
Drabble: Bath (NSFW)
Drabble: Picturesque
Ask: Jealous
Ask: Getting Bam
Ask: MC getting jealous
Drabble: Forever
Ask: Soop
Character ask: How did Jungkook plan it?
Ask: Protective Bam
Character ask: Redo?
Ask: let the public know
Ask: Babytalk
Ask: Dramatic kook
Drabble: Clingy
Ask: Laugh
Drabble: Risky Birthday (NSFW)
Drabble: Sweetest Kiss (NSFW)
Drabble: Back Out
Ask: Mini drabble
Ask: Hiatus
Character Ask: Wedding?
Ask: Accident
Ask: Accident pt.2
Drabble: Something New
Short: Perilla Leaf Drama (NSFW)
Ask: Tour
Ask: Boner (NSFW)
Ask: Jealous MC 2
Ask: Birthday
Ask: Random drabble
Ask: Pain
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts smut#bts jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagines#bts jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#bts jungkopk fanfic#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts x reader
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Sticky Fingers | Maknae Line
When you shoplift at the store and get caught by the manager, a punishment awaits you in the backroom.
Contains: Reader is being sexually punished for stealing, reader gets fucked in various positions, some degrading, rough sex, overstimulation, powerplay, noncon and dubcon elements, vibrator used, cum in face, upside down fucking
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Jungkook
“Good, don’t stop sucking until I tell you to stop.” The man ordered, hovering over you, watching you suck his cock. “Should’ve tried stealing from a different shop, might’ve gotten away with it. Dumb little thief.”
You were on your knees in a back room at a store you had just tried to steal from. You had been caught by the owner and dragged into the room. He told you that he was going to call the cops and you panicked, begging him not to. He seemed like he was going to relent but then he said there had to be some form of punishment and that was when he pulled out his cock and demanded that you suck it.
Jungkook groaned. “Keep going.”
You did as he ordered, not that you had much of a choice. You couldn’t afford to have a criminal record and the man had made it clear that if you refused he would call the cops immediately. So you kept sucking his cock, bobbing your head up and down his shaft.
Jungkook pulled away and pulled you up by the arm. He pulled you over to a desk in the corner and placed you on it. He flipped your skirt up and then tugged your panties down.
You hadn’t even realized you were aroused. But the thrill of being caught combined with the fact that you were actually a bit of a slut was enough to turn you on. Your pussy was soaking wet and Jungkook wasted no time lining up and pushing into you.
“A-ah!” You gasped as he pushed all the way into you.
He started thrusting in and out of you, his fingers digging into your hips, using them to pull you back against him, pushing deeper into you.
You gripped the edges of the desk and held on as he fucked you. The wood was uncomfortable but you didn’t dare to speak up.
The door to the room was unlocked, but thankfully no one was out front, otherwise they would hear the sound of his thighs slapping against his thighs, the desk creaking, and the moans and whimpers coming from your lips.
Your pussy felt so full, stuffed with his thick cock. It was throbbing and dripping, clenching around him.
“Sir, I’m sorry…” You whined as he picked up the pace.
”No you’re not.” Jungkook pulled out and flipped you over, the room temporarily spinning.
Jungkook pushed in and started fucking you from behind, the new angle causing him to hit a new spot deep inside of you, a place no other guy had ever managed to reach.
It was overwhelming and you were sure your orgasm was going to come any moment now.
You gasped as the pleasure became too much and you came around his cock, your whole body shaking.
“Not done with you yet, you think just because you had a slutty orgasm, that I’d let you go? That I wouldn't get to fill your slutty cunt with my cum? You think wrong. Your punishment isn't over yet, not until you're stuffed full of cum. You don't want anyone to know that you're a criminal, do you?” He mocked, slapping your ass.
He didn’t stop thrusting, didn't stop pounding into your sensitive hole.
And like that, he kept fucking you until he filled you with his cum.
Taehyung
“Ah!” You cried out as you tried to move away, but you were firmly pulled back by the manager.
“What? You want to steal but not deal with the consequences?” His arm locked in place around your waist as his other pushed the vibrator inside further into your pussy.
You had stolen some items from his store, which led to him catching you in the act. After begging and pleading with him, the manager agreed to not call the cops if you were punished. You weren’t expecting him to demand you suck his cock, but that had only been the start. Now he had you on his lap with your legs spread open and the toy vibrating inside of your pussy.
“Sir, please, I won’t do it again…I swear. Just let me go, please, I promise, I won’t steal anything from your store again. I won't ever come back, I'll even give you back everything I stole…” You whimpered.
Taehyung took the dildo out of you. You felt relieved for a second before you were pulled off his lap and turned around so you were facing him.
He looked you in the eyes as he pushed his cock into you, his gaze unwavering.
“O-oh!” You whimpered, feeling his cock slide into you, your body easily accepting him, your cunt practically sucking him in.
Once he was completely inside of you, the manager started to move. His hips moving quickly, thrusting up into you.
It was a completely different sensation than the toy. It wasn't like anything you had experienced before. He was able to push deep inside of you, and he wasn't holding back.
His movements were almost frantic, a sense of urgency behind each movement.
“You make a better whore than a shoplifter.” Taehyung chuckled. “I'll be taking this as payment for what you've stolen. You owe me. Now, ride me.”
You nodded obediently. You lifted yourself up and began to bounce, the pleasure growing. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you.
Taehyung leaned back, watching you, a smirk on his face. “Shit, I’m going to fill up that tight pussy. And you're going to take every last drop, aren't you, my little thief?” He mocked.
You could only moan in response.
Taehyung started to buck his hips, matching your rhythm. You could feel your own orgasm approaching, your cunt getting tighter around him.
Your legs started to shake, and you could feel the heat building up in your core, the pleasure building, growing stronger, and Taehyung took over, pounding upwards into you. You cried out as you came around him, your juices dripping out of your cunt and down onto him.
You felt a gush of warmth, the feeling of him filling you up, and he moaned, his eyes falling closed.
“Mm, good girl.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, pushing you off his lap. “Get out of here before I change my mind and decide to call the cops.”
Jimin
“You really thought you could stuff your bag and get away with it? Do you take me for some idiot?” The manager mocked as he bounced you on his cock.
“No… no, sir!” Fuck, you were going to pass out. This man was fucking you just right, you had practically turned into jelly in his arms. Jimin had lifted you off the floor and now he was fucking you mid air, bouncing you on his cock as he stood in the middle of his office.
You had been caught stealing from the shop he worked at and he decided he was going to teach you a lesson. He had ripped your leggings down your thighs and was now plunging his cock in and out of your pussy with an incredible pace. You moaned, clinging to his shoulders for support. You felt so lightheaded.
Jimin looked you up and down, your body limp, a look of pure bliss on your face. He smirked, continuing to fuck you hard. You were such a slut.
You cried out when you felt the pleasure build up, reaching your limit, but just as you were about to cum, Jimin switched positions. He lowered you down, your body upside down, legs hanging in the air. The back of your head and shoulders touched the floor as he held you by the hips, before he started pounding into you again. You cried out. You were so fucking sensitive and he was hitting all the right spots, it was driving you insane.
Jimin was relentless, watching as your body tensed and your face scrunched up. He gripped onto your thighs as he continued to thrust downward, deep into your pussy.
You came, and it was like a million fireworks going off in your head. Your whole body buzzed, and the room began to spin. You felt your legs begin to go numb as your body twitched. Your pussy squeezed around his cock, causing him to moan.
Jimin kept fucking you, even after you came, causing you to moan and squirm. Your legs kicked around, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but the manager was holding them down, keeping them spread.
He grunted, feeling his cock twitch. He was close. He fucked you hard, making sure you felt every inch of his dick. You were practically drooling. You were completely dazed.
With one final thrust, he pushed his cock deep into your pussy, unloading his hot cum. You could feel it filling you up, and it made you shudder. You came again.
You whimpered when you felt his cock slip out of you. Your lower body dropped to the floor as he let go of your legs, causing them to land with a thud. You winced.
Jimin stood above you, watching you catch your breath. “Suck me off and we won't have any more problems, got it, thief?” He said.
You nodded slowly, still coming down from the high.
He smirked, leaning down, grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling you up. You took his cock and started to suck him off, Jimin bobbed you head back and forth, fucking your mouth.
Jimin groaned as his cock hit the back of your throat, feeling your tongue slide against the shaft. He threw his head back, letting out a few moans.
After a while, you were getting tired, but the manager wasn't done with you yet. He didn’t stop until he was satisfied, and when he finally was, he pulled his cock out. “Fuck!” He cussed, jerking himself off until his hot cum splattered onto your face.
#bts smut#bts requests#bts x reader#bts smut requests#bts fanfic#taehyung smut#bts smut fanfic#jungkook smut#jimin smut#bts smut story#bts smut reactions#18+ bts content
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— close ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au
warnings: yandere, mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, manipulation, corruption, mentions of somnophilia, praise, degradation, cockwarming, breast play, dirty talk, dom!jk but he's needy, (he's also a pervert), humping, creampie
It started out as an unconscious gesture; searching for your warmth. Hugs that lingered and limbs tangled together under the sheets on stormy nights. A primal yearning, seeping into his consciousness slowly; until sharing a bed became a normal occurance, no need for rain or thunder. Until exploring your skin under the cotton of your t-shirt no longer served to comfort you; but rather to feed the starving fire in his bones, prickling your skin with its heat. He always needed more.
It was so hard to think clearly through the fuzziness in your head, his own warmth filling you up; and the innocence lacing his lewd actions. A pretty, silken ribbon coiled around a snake.
"I love you," he'd whisper, "I want to be close to you. Is that so wrong?"
The words, so heavy, sank all the way into your skull, their weight slowly crushing your common sense; and all that was left were the raw, unfiltered instincts creeping beneath. In a way, Jungkook was right, wasn't he? And it wasn't like anyone would ever know...
You ended up disappearing deeper into that thought the more daring his touches became, the longer his hands lingered so intimately on skin that so clearly longed for them.
"I missed you so much... Couldn't wait to come home."
The whisper turned into a sigh, his hand brushing over your abdomen. A soft moan was muffled into your neck when his hips pushed forward, the drooling, swollen tip of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. He filled you up inch by inch, throbbing as you clenched around him, so fucking tight a dull bang sounded through the room before he was even halfway in. He paid no mind to his head hitting the headboard, hissing and squeezing your hip with an inked hand, eyes shut and stomach twisting hotly.
Unfortunately — or fortunately, at this point, who knew — hearing the gentle quiver in each breath Jungkook took for some reason only made you clench harder.
"Ahh—" a weak, breathy, little groan that made his voice break. "F-fuck.. Please stop, baby..."
You pressed your face into the pillow, trying to stifle the whimper pushing past your throat. His hands lowered down to your thigh, holding you open with ease so he could slide in deeper, make you take it all before his hips finally touched yours.
You've spent many nights spooning like this, eyelids heavy and fingers intertwined. At first, Jungkook obediently kept his touches limited to caressing your thighs and tummy, decorating them with mindless patterns.
Until that, too, was not enough.
Every night he buried himself inside you, he found it harder and harder not to cross the line — and you found it harder not to fall apart. "You feel so good," didn't suffice anymore; neither did the gentle, appreciative way he felt your body. He needed more. And who could blame Jungkook with the way your cunt gripped his cock, dripping wet and heavenly warm, like it was made for him.
"So perfect."
His palm roamed your thigh, getting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
"So perfect for me," he whispered softly. "Must feel so empty in the mornings, huh? Pussy so pretty gaping after I leave— ah."
It would have looked even prettier with his cum spilling out of it, but the thought turned to dust the moment he felt you react to his words, the pulsing around his thick girth drawing a groan out of him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards lazily, his eyes falling shut.
You felt like you couldn't breathe.
Being inside you was meant to serve a purpose; to comfort and relax. You never thought Jungkook actually looked at you, let alone while you were unconscious, and the admission made the room around you spin in hazy circles.
"Filthy," he murmured, his fingers finding rest on your ass and squeezing.
You gasped, squeezing him right back, and Jungkook wasn't sure how much longer he could stay still, the heat blazing through him too consuming.
"Shh, shh, shh, baby," he tried to soothe, one hand reaching to envelop your own. "Doing so good. Such a good girl."
Nuzzling your neck, he helped your heartbeat slow down a little, his embrace solid; leading you straight back towards the safety zone.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
While grateful for the offered distraction, you shook your head, wishing for nothing more than to finally fall asleep. For a moment, it was silent, and it almost seemed like Jungkook had the same idea.
Then, his lips inched towards your ear and you felt him twitch inside you.
"Wanna make one?" He breathed.
Your eyes shot open, stomach turning. Jungkook felt you tense up in his arms, and for some reason it turned him on to see you struggle, thrown from your safety zone into the deep water.
"What if my cute, little sister got stuck under the couch? Or t-the table—ohh fuck—"
He couldn't quite finish the sentence, his dick beating as hard as his heart as your walls constricted.
"Jungkook!" you tried, though your voice barely rose above a choked whisper.
He hummed in response, brushing his nose along the nape of your neck.
"You started it."
How?
You didn't get a chance to ask. His hand sneaked under your shirt again, shamelessly sliding up to cup your breast. Tingles crept up your spine, making it arch beautifully, and Jungkook groaned at the slight movement.
"I mean, how filthy are you, baby? You find out I lift the sheets every morning to look at your little cunt while you're sleeping, and you clench around me like a bitch in heat."
He couldn't deny the ache shooting through his stiff cock as he taunted you in a whisper, goosebumps flooding his skin. Not once in his life has he ever spoken to you like this before; maybe that was one of the reasons for the bubbling heat unfurling in his stomach. Maybe that was the reason for the way your thighs quivered as well.
"I felt you then, too," he groaned, rolling your nipple in between the tips of his fingers. "Is that what you want? To get stuck under a couch and fucked by your brother?"
The next roll turned into a pinch. Arousal made you burn from head to toe, and for a reason you couldn't fathom the shame worked like gasoline, making the fire spread quicker. You were struggling to breathe again, too hot under the sheets.
"I'm starting to see a pattern here... You like being treated like some mindless toy? You wanna be a little doll for me?"
You were meant to stop him, say his name, but it came out as a pathetic moan, and you felt yours eyes water. It was a mix of mortification and the intense need pulsing in between your thighs, the kind you've never felt before, the kind you knew you shouldn't feel at all when it came to your stepbrother.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook slowly began to pull back; dragging every thick inch of his cock through your walls slowly, until only the tip remained inside.
The moment he parted from you completely, you instantly felt his absence. There was no better time to say something than now, when your ability to form sentences wasn't completely blurred by lust.
"Jungkook," you tried again in a whisper, swallowing, "please, stop using that word when you're—" a gasp cut you off when he flipped you onto your back, leaning his muscular arms on either side of your head.
Even in the darkness of your bedroom, it was impossible not to notice how fucked out he looked, smirking down at you.
"What word?" He murmured, unceremoniously lifting your shirt.
Your heart jumped, hand flying down to try to cover your chest, but he caught your wrist and slammed it against the pillow.
"What word?" He repeated. As if he needed to ask. As if he didn't feel you squirm every time he used it. "Sister?"
While you were trying to process the situation, heart beating out of your chest, he lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around a hardened nipple, sucking. A veiny hand reached to fondle the other breast and you moaned softly, eyelids fluttering. Jungkook grunted in response, dark gaze flickering up to your face. It was a sinful sight, the feeling even more so, his tongue so hot and wet as it flicked against the bud. But your hesitation must have shown, because after a moment he pulled away and caressed your face instead.
"Don't act so innocent, baby. You think I don't notice how you don't even need to touch yourself to let me inside? Just seeing my cock gets your panties wet. Besides," he leaned in closer, staring into widening eyes. "That's what you are, aren't you?"
There was a look in his eyes you haven't seen before; something possessive that prompted you to nod and agree, despite the nervousness buzzing through you.
Jungkook purred, rubbing his nose against yours.
"Then be a good little sister," he whispered, "and spread your legs for me."
A tremble went through your spine, and you found yourself doing just as he asked. It earned you a tender kiss on the cheek, then another. He loved you so much. Was is it so wrong that he loved you? No, and he would continue to assure you that there was nothing wrong with you loving him either.
Biting down on his lip, he grabbed his hard cock and gave it a pump, then two, shuddering when it touched the warmth of your cunt.
He felt his abdomen tense, keeping eye contact as he began pushing himself into the welcoming softness of the tight hole. He's never kissed you before, but his lips were practically on yours, brushing your mouth and releasing hot, short puffs of air. Swallowing harshly when he bottomed out, he felt the moan that escaped you, felt your hole twitching around him, greedy and so much wetter than when the night began.
"G-god," he forced out, fighting back a groan. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.
"I love you so fucking much, y-yeah. I'm so fucking hard. Always m-make me so fucking—ah—hard. So pretty."
He was so drunk on you, his words were beginning to slur. Warmth tingled through your chest in crashing waves. His hand went back to kneading your breasts, any traces of gentleness gone and replaced by need. He lifted himself up to look, fascinated by the way your body reacted when he twisted and abused your nipple. He could have came just from this, from the view under him and the feeling of your perfect pussy. And fuck, he wanted to come so bad.
"Fuck," he finally groaned, barely conscious of the little grinding movement his hips began to make. You were getting lost in the pleasure, your hips lifting subtly to aid his in gaining friction.
Immediately, mindlessly, his grinding became faster, his cock rubbing against your walls so well and reaching so deep you knew you were going to come; and he wasn't even fucking you properly.
"Ohh fuck, baby— need you so much, please."
You heard him sniffle, the mattress squeaking beneath you.
"Please let me come. I need to come."
"Jungkook," you breathed, "I, I—" your stomach tightened, the tension in it so close to bursting.
Was this wrong? It didn't feel wrong; Jungkook always said that it's okay to have a special bond, that it's okay to feel good, it's your business. And you knew you weren't connected by blood, but you were still connected by family ties.
"A-are you still on the pill?" He asked brokenly, his voice hoarse.
"Yeah, I— am, oh—"
With a low groan, he humped you faster, making your legs stiffen around him.
"Can I come inside? Need to come inside. Need to fill this sopping fucking cunt."
You whined, hiding your face in his neck, a tiny part of you still aware that your parents were home, asleep. At this point though, it didn't really matter anymore. You wanted to feel him come so badly; you wanted to feel him fall apart with you.
"Yes, please," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Come inside me."
The moan he let out was obscene, but you didn't get a chance to beg any more; your vision became blurry and you couldn't hold back any longer if you tried. His hand slapped over your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that broke through, his teeth biting harshly into your shoulder to dull his the desperate sounds of his own orgasm. His hips stilled, dick twitching and shooting rope after rope of cum until his mind went numb.
You've never felt this sated before; so full and complete, lost in the bliss. It took a while for Jungkook to gather up the strength to lift himself up, but you didn't mind at all, his weight on you adding to the comfort and the butterflies still swarming around your tummy. What caught your attention was the silky lips touching your own; a chaste, loving kiss, the first one he dared to give you, making your heart pound.
"I'm all yours. Are you mine?"
Not that he needed to ask; of course you were his. He'd sever someone's arm before letting them even think of putting a finger on you. But he did need to hear you say it. He needed you to know that you belonged to him only, that no one else was allowed to do the things he did to you. And you sighed, so sweetly, whispering your answer straight into his mouth.
"Only yours."
Eyes hooded, Jungkook stared at your beautiful face, peace taking over your features. You were already falling asleep, and he could barely keep his eyes open, even though arousal still stirred in groin. He came so much it drained most of his strength, but he'd be able to sneak into your bed again. And this time, you'd let him give it to you properly, you'd beg for it like you begged for his cum. You'd let him fuck you again and again until you were so dumbed out on orgasms and love, you'd barely question waking up in a new apartment he rented for you to share.
Your parents wouldn't question it either; they'd have no reason to. Wasn't it just heartwarming for siblings to be close?
#jungkook x reader#yandere bts#bts smut#bts reactions#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts yandere#jungkook smut
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calling you cool (m) | jjk
title: calling you cool (m)
pairing: jungkook x rock star!reader(f)
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; rock band au , strangers to lovers
summary: after your band finishes a coveted club gig, you’re frustrated that your dope ass night ends with you hiding in a bathroom stall. at least, this is what you figured—until someone comes along to change that.
warnings: language, alcohol, one (1) creep at the club, explicit scenes, unprotected (wrap it babes), choking, head/hair pulling, hitting it from the b b back, you aren’t the only one in restraints lmao, but urs are his hands💕, wh*re mentions, angst??, mast*rbation, sub!jk until he’s not :)))), or*l teasing, rough s*x, wet humping.. just trust me lmao, angst lol, exhibiti*nism, c*m play, club grinding :)), cre*mpie, competitive jk, handcuffs<3, bre*st play, cowgirl yeehaw, body worship, p*ssy play, praise k ink pain k ink waow a combo, he’s not gonna be quiet a ha ha, it’s ck jk bc he broke me, manhandling, tatted up jk, also he’s a brat but who is shocked, kissing lol, multiple org*sms, ..feelings??, jk in denim is a warning in itself, aftercare bc ofc, the ending a ha ha :)))
note: so… i have no explanation for this other than i went to a live show in february and got, umm. inspired lmao. tbh this is for the ones that wanna get revenge on this man for everything he’s been up to && it’s cuffing season so let’s get itttt<33
note 2: hope u enjoy what i’ve been working on for months now🥺💕 nothing else to add other than this is only semi-edited lol see y’all on the other side :))
drop date: april 10th, 2023, 7:20pm est
word count: 12.1k🤪
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Two and a half hours that felt like eight.
The entire reason why you’re slumped over a sticky bar counter and just waiting for your first liquid punch to the throat.
Granted, it was fun as hell to finally showcase at a larger club—a nice step up from musty, humble dives—but you didn’t prepare for the sudden kick off stage for a more anticipated deejay set to follow. Which ushered in a bout of fatigue instead of the usual post-performance adrenaline.
And to make everything worse? All your bandmates are sensually preoccupied in various nooks already—a sign that you should get on with it, too, or at least find another way home.
Home doesn’t sound great, but you choose it anyway.
Ugh. They are definitely spotting you for the ride you’re looking up on your… Phone…
What’s this guy’s problem?
Hating the way he’s totally invading your space with icky manners and even more awful breath, you decide to ask him this exact question. Bluntly.
And his response makes you physically cringe,
“Wanna get a chance before you’re famous, pretty girl.”
Pretty?
He couldn’t even go with hot?
You just shredded a guitar for two and a half hours that felt like eight. Hot is the only adjective you’ll accept right now.
“I’m gonna pass on that, dude,” you offer as a quick rejection, saying thanks to the very attractive bartender wait fuck what the hell is that guy even real?
Immediately, your mind blanks as he leaves as quickly as he drops off your drink, the creeper next to you fading fast.
What the…
The first coherent thought you have is that the guy you saw wasn’t the same person that took your order.
The second coherent thought is that the first one barely matters because whomever you just saw wipes any sense from your brain regardless.
Angelic yet downright sinful. Refreshing yet strangely familiar.
Familiar, though? Doesn’t that mean you should’ve seen him before?
…What were you doing again?
“Come on. I can even help you out if you let me.”
Oh, right. Turning down some idiot that, with a quick sniff of your nose, you can tell is still too close.
Hopefully hot bartender man comes to the rescue like all the others in fiction do.
Not that you need him to. You can definitely handle these things on your own. But any excuse to see those tatted muscles and strong eyebrows under those piercings? You’ll take it.
Besides, your story hasn’t shaped up anywhere close to tales like those anyway. This is just another moment in your mediocre history of trying to make it big, with a banged up hand-me-down instrument and a dream.
At least this sleaze beside you believes in your upward trajectory…
How touching.
Fingers poised on your glass, you slowly offer a side-eye. “Well, I‘ve made it on my own so far, so. Not looking for help at the moment.” While he sputters out nonsense, you take a silent sip, ethanol spicing your tongue before you tack on, “Maybe work on that home life instead, yeah?”
You both regard his hand resting next to your elbow, one of the fingers sporting a ring of untouched skin where a band usually sits. Unless it's not wanted. Clearly.
“Seems like it needs a lot more help than my career.”
The man’s face falters at your tight-lipped smile, and you glance around to see if hot bartender guy is anywhere close in case you need another glass.
As if. You absolutely will need one in a second.
But your guardian demon is nowhere to be found.
You sigh as the mounting tension next to you expands and expands, finally bursting and reeking of bruised ego, “You listen to me, bi—”
Denim wedges its way between you before you hear a jovial,
“Ready to go?”
Huh? Whose arm is—
…Hot bartender man?
No fucking way.
You almost laugh at whatever’s happening because there’s no possible reason this is real.
Right? That moment was too perfect; the timing was magnificent.
If these two guys turn out to be buddies and have a con going, you’re gonna riot.
Damn your friends for leaving you on your own tonight. You can’t even enjoy serendipity because of all the paranoia you have on your own.
Deciding flight is better than fight at the moment, you panic and give yourself an out,
“Go where? The bathroom? Good idea.”
In your haste to straighten and spin, you miss the confusion and shock following your fast steps.
And you squeeze through the fog and sweaty crowd to wait things out in an overused, scribbled-to-hell stall.
After scrolling through your feed and checking any relevant hashtags about your band’s set—all of them surprisingly encouraging and unsurprisingly about yours and Jimin’s mic tonguing and Yoongi making love to his guitar—you decide that fifteen minutes should be enough time.
Sighing, you wash up before leaving the restroom, fixing your clothes and calling a ride—
“Ah, there you are!”
Holy shit what is happening tonight you can’t catch a wait is that hot bartender man again?
You really need to find another name for this guy. Hopefully Asshole or Creep aren’t possible choices because he really is undoubtedly handsome. “Can I help you?”
“I was, umm..” He pauses with a purse of his lips. “Got kinda worried.”
Now that you get a better look at him, he looks a little sweet, too.
Which makes you even more wary of what he could be up to.
“Oh,” you drone, inwardly pleased because of how you decide to shift the conversation next,
“Sorry, my shits are big.”
The boy’s eyes widen before he blinks, mouth holding back a smile and springing anticipation into your chest.
Is he gonna run? Think you’re weird? Is he even gonna say anyth—
“So are my dog’s.”
…What?
A laugh shoots out of your lips before you can stop it, and your surprisingly chill companion relaxes with you immediately.
Well. If your literal shit talk didn’t deter him, maybe he’s alright.
“I’m playing,” you chuckle. “I just didn’t wanna deal with that guy. And you, if you’re in on his little scheme.”
“Me? Fuck no.” A head shake with brows pinched to hell precedes his claim, “I’d never do that to you.”
Uh huh.
When you pin him with bored suspicion, his clarification tumbles out in spurts,
“Or anyone. No scheming. I don’t—I don’t, uhm—You as in anyone, you know? That’s what I meant—”
You admit he’s adorable. Without any effort, too.
Is he even single?
You give him mercy when you assure, “I get it. Thank you.”
That seems to placate him. When you hold your gaze, you take in eyes sparkling behind long bangs that accentuate his features too, too well. “Anytime,” is all he says in return, and you don’t know where to go from here.
Unless he’s down to be the last conquest of your band. If he is, you may have been the slowest, but you’re confident that you snagged the best for last.
Jimin may even get jealous.
But you need just a little more evaluating before you decide to shoot your shot. Even if your body is screaming otherwise.
Start slow. “You down to dance?”
It’s obvious he didn’t expect anything else from this conversation, and you almost don’t hear him over the booming bumps of a song you like,
“Uh.. Wait, really?”
“Yes, really!” you shout, grabbing his tatted hand and pulling him towards the sea of a dance floor. “I don’t wanna end the night hiding in a bathroom.”
“Sounds like the perfect night to me.”
“Liar.”
“Jungkook.”
“Hmm?”
When you spin back around, you decide that you like how his face shines with lips in a happy curve.
“It’s Jungkook,” he repeats, more sure before aiming his grin into the crowd.
“Ah.”
It looks like he wanted to tell you that from the start. How adorable considering you weren’t even thinking about things like name exchanges.
Your smile is genuine. “Good to know. I was calling you hot bartender man this whole time.”
When he tilts his head down to laugh, you figure he thinks you’re joking again. But he gives his own soft admittance, catching you wonderfully off-guard,
“I’ve just been calling you cool.”
A huff out your nose is your only reply.
Why is he confident one second and super timid the next? It’s strange. Disarming, even.
But it’s also enough to keep you interested, and you’re truly enjoying this change of pace.
Maybe you can accept his adjective, too.
You don’t know how many songs pass before you find yourself glued to him. Or him glued to you, no one can say for sure.
But with each song, no matter the tempo, he’s proven that he can move—even when he lets you lead the way.
“You didn’t tell me you could dance,” you finally yell in his ear, to which he laughs.
“That’s not what you asked!”
Rolling your eyes, you tighten your grip on his firm arm, wondering how he hasn’t taken the jacket off yet. He’s gotta be soaked under all of that heavy blue.
“Why don’t you take this off?”
“You want me to?”
“God, yes,” you say with full honesty. “You’re making me hot just looking at you.”
“Then why would I take it off?”
…Oh?
Jimin will be jealous for sure.
You can only smirk, telling your body to not react so fast when all he does is shuck the top part off, leaving his white tee in view and strong forearms holding the jacket in place.
What the fuck!
“Better?” he husks in your ear, sounding like he knows you’re grappling for an answer.
But two can play this game. You tug him in by his shirt as a tiny taunt slips off your tongue,
“For now.”
His chuckles roll down your neck, and you keep him close as the next beat makes everyone in the club grind slow.
Shit, he didn’t tell you he could do this too holy fuck. If this is how he…
You can feel your breath quickening with each deep roll, and you don’t even remember when you were turned around but your ass is burying his front with no shame in sight.
What was his name again? Jung-something. Jung-whatever. Jung—
Jungkook.
Jungkook feels fucking good.
You start to hear him say something in your ear, but when you turn slightly to give him attention, you realize he’s singing along.
And it’s turning your knees into paper.
Lip bitten, you face him to put a bold hand on his neck, settling into his soft tone and wanting to remain on his strong build. Rolling against his front, you whisper, “You like this song, huh.”
He ticks his head to the side before admitting, “Not really.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” You gather his leg between yours while keeping your rhythm, and his mouth parts when you suggest,
“Maybe you can sing something else for me later.”
He swallows any words you were about to hear, and you find this hesitance a little odd. But you’re also finding delicious friction on his jeans right now, so conversation be damned.
“Never mind,” you offer between shaky breaths. “I was just. Just kidding.”
“I’ll do it.”
You flick your eyes to his earnest ones.
“If you really want me to.”
Suddenly, you’re shivering much too fast for the club to be this humid and cramped. Jungkook’s breath coats your face in another layer of warmth, but it doesn’t help—your cheeks have been scorching for an eternity under all the chill.
The next slow grind is one your partner prepares for, because the way he tightens his thigh tugs a slight moan from your throat, and your fingers dig into his tee.
His dark chuckle makes you bold, and you lean into his ear before offering,
“Maybe you can make me sing, too.”
Suddenly, you’re pulled flush against him, and you appreciate the forwardness after he seemed so shy—
“Back up, dude.”
Huh?
Snapping your gaze to Jungkook’s face, you see eyes piercing forward and hazy aura now resolute.
When you realize who replies, your eyes roll hard.
“Relax, kid. I’m just looking.”
“Look somewhere else.”
He’s tense as fuck. And you feel the hand on your back press into you a little bit harder.
You’ve only known Jungkook for less than thirty minutes. Why is he being so protective?
It’s… Comforting, coming from him. But you don’t know why you feel this way. Shouldn’t that be weird? Why is it not?
Turning, you flick off the same creep from before, channeling a bit of energy from your long-haired guitar player,
“Look at this then, bitch.”
“Whatever,” he scoffs. “You’re nothing special anyways, whore. Getting famous, my ass.” And he turns to slink his way back into the crowd, some people stopping to stare at your silent reaction.
Fucking ouch.
But, annoyingly enough, you have to let that go. That guy knows nothing about what you’ve gone through and accomplished despite, and words like that can’t affect you.
…Right.
Your tongue juts out in pettiness before you regard Jungkook again and, amidst the surrounding giggles, you find him staring at you with words in his eyes.
Without a single laugh at all.
What’s he thinking about? “You good?”
Blinking snaps him out of a trance. “Yeah. I mean.. I know you can handle dicks, but, uhm. He was being weird.”
“Nah, that was really nice of you. Thank you.”
“Ah.. Yeah, sure.”
Damn it. You’ve known this guy all of thirty minutes and yet you can’t stand seeing him so bothered. It’s like something turned off his light switch and shut down his spirit.
Jungkook helped you twice. Make it up to him.
With manufactured energy, you lighten the mood, totally not doing it because you’re a little shaken by what the creeper said, too. “So.. You know I can handle dicks, huh?”
Immediately, this drops his head with a sigh. “I thought about it as soon as I said it.”
“Uh huh.”
“Swear!”
“Sure.”
He shuts his eyes in mirth, and things are back to normal.
Not like you prefer this for your mental capacity, either. He may be grinning and happy again, but you can tell there’s still something else this angel is hiding. Something you wanna tug right out of him, no matter how far down you have to dig.
Because the saucy tilt of his mouth is giving his horns away.
You’re ready. Make it up to him even more.
“Kinda wanna show you how,” you whisper, voice hiding none of your intentions. “If you’re down to do that, too.”
Your stomach flips when he doesn’t flinch. Even when your face nears his. Even when your mouths almost touch. Through everything you’re doing, he doesn’t back down.
Though his heart is giving everything away.
“Wanna take me home?”
He swallows hard.
“I’d take you anywhere.”
Your back bangs your door open, lips smothered as you stumble into your apartment while raking needy hands through Jungkook’s hair.
This wasn’t how you planned things to go down. You were thinking the two of you could have some drinks in your bare kitchen, maybe even share the special dessert you have saved.
But the motherfucker just so happened to own a motorcycle, so even with him burning speed lines into your clothes, you knew you weren’t getting home fast enough.
Special.
The exact word you need a distraction from—
Hard plaster pokes your back before you push away, shoving but not expecting him to sling you into the opposite side of the hall, heavy boot kicking your door shut.
He’s all over you, giving you no room no room no room to think. Just how you need it.
When you tug on his shirt, he grunts, and you’re encouraged to yank at the collar of his jacket until he gets the point.
“Needy.”
“Very.”
“I like it.”
“Good.”
He tears his thick top off without breaking his lips from yours, which is so attractive that you moan into his mouth and clutch at his neck a little tight.
Which makes him release a very interesting sound.
Intrigued, you hear the drop of denim before moving in with a light choke.
And his breathy reaction has your eyes blowing wide,
“Fuck.”
“You like this, too, huh,” you ask with sultry delight, grin shiny when he gulps against your palm.
“Mmhmm.”
Broad. Tall. Stronger than you by a long shot.
And yet puddy in your literal hands?
You’re gonna have fun with him.
“I like it, too,” you admit as the two of you rush to take your shoes off. “And don’t you dare stop throwing me around.”
“You sure?”
“Fucking do it.”
As soon as you collide, Jungkook snatches your lips, swinging and backing you up into another hard surface. Judging by the jiggle of a plant pot at your side, you know you’re close to the living room.
Perfect.
Exhaling, you tug him backwards until your legs hit the arm of your couch, smirking when he gives you an impish curve himself. “Here? Or bed?”
“You pick.”
“Bed,” you rasp, suddenly primitive in all speech. “You. Bed. Now.”
Seconds later, you both burst into your room, your lips seemingly magnetized to his. Your hands can’t seem to pick a spot on his body, either, grabbing at his shoulders, his waist, his—
“Ow!”
You flinch away. “What’s wrong?”
“Think I stepped on something.” Jungkook looks down, and you follow his vision to a half opened box that you left behind in a rush.
A box that very obviously has a pair of fluffy handcuffs inside.
One second.
Two seconds.
In all your years of living through awkward situations, you’ve never felt a silence so palpable.
Without lifting your eyes, you bend down to close the box and gather it in your hands. “Shit, sorry about that.”
Standing, you tap the box against a palm, hoping you didn’t make this almost-complete stranger feel uncomfortable.
What do you do now? You aren’t phased but he might be.
What the hell do you even say?
Diverting to jokes yet again, you blurt,
“Usually don’t admit my kinks until the second night. Sorry.”
His eyes don’t stray from your face as they slowly crinkle, and you don’t know why you feel shy.
Is it because his soft laugh is so genuine? Relieved? Or is it because he looks like he wants to admit something, too?
As long as you didn’t make him second guess things. That would suck; you’re having a good time. “You okay?”
His gaze flickers from the box to yours immediately. “Me? Yeah, I just…”
He’s still staring. What’s happening?
Yet again, his eyes are speaking more than he is.
Well, give him something to work with. You don’t wanna beat around any bushes when he’s looking this enticing. Either keep things going or put yourself out of your misery and let him leave without hard feelings. “I can put them away if you—”
“No, no. It’s not that.”
Unexpected, but interesting.
Tapping his covered chest with the package, you tilt your head with a tiny pout. “What do we do with them then?” Eyeing his mouth, you ask a follow up, “You want me to put them on?”
His breath is quickening, heartbeat thrumming across the cardboard material and into your hand. When he gulps, you can feel the atmosphere around you shift, and his responses add sparks to the smoke,
“Yeah.”
You’d be more than happy to—
“On me.”
Oh.
Oh.
Now this is delightful.
Humming, you move the box behind your back and lean forward, smile evolving into a devilish smirk that would make your bandmates proud,
“Does baby boy wanna be cuffed?”
“I… Fuck.”
“I have another pair,” you divulge, sliding a finger along his covered chest. “If you wanna put those to use, too.”
His breathy exhale is enough of an answer. But you’re gonna make him use his words for this.
All of this.
“So if you want that… tell me.”
“I want it,” he responds without pause. “Both.”
“Overachiever. I like that,” you chuckle, switching to a normal voice to make sure he’s really down. “But seriously, you wanna do this?”
“Fuck yeah,” he answers just as casually, and you can tell he’s excited by the way he’s rubbing his hands. “Sounds fun.”
“You’ve never done it?”
“Nah.” When he shakes his wrists in anticipation, you can’t help but grin. “But I wanna try.”
So this guy, who for all intents and purposes has you ready and willing to do whatever he wants, is the one that’s gonna surrender?
“Who even are you,” you ask with amusement, and his laugh follows you to your closet where the other handcuffs reside—another fluffy pair since it’s your preferred style.
For what you use them for, anyway.
As soon as you retrieve them, you hear him answer,
“No one really.”
“No one’s ever no one,” you counter with wisdom, clinking the two sets together before making your way back to your fuckbuddy of the night.
Strange how that word doesn’t seem to really suit him, though.
When you get back, he’s watching you with eyes that juxtapose dark bangs, and you almost falter when you continue,
“Everyone’s someone to someone.”
And you believe that, no matter what anyone says about you. You have to, have to, have to.
Jungkook stares for what seems like forever until he whispers,
“You really are cool.”
Your heart has got to stop skipping at that.
Smiling, you give him a nudge and puff out, “I am, huh?” When he laughs, you hold up the restraints and offer, “Last chance to chicken out.”
“Never.”
“Bet.” Motioning to the head of your bed, you order, “Shirt off. Pants optional.”
Jungkook giggles—giggles—before shucking off his shirt with one swoop.
And your emotions don’t know what to do with themselves. After wondering about it all night, once you see his actual physique, you’re certain he’s a god.
When he wastes no time in unzipping his pants, you hold strong when you halt,
“Changed my mind.”
“Huh?”
You raise determined eyes to his face before commanding, “Leave them on.. I’ll take them off myself.”
His lip is bitten on the side opposite the ring, and he nods before you walk up to him.
Fuck, you can almost see the tension buzzing around the room, and its power crushes your voice when you slide a finger along his gorgeous skin,
“Lie down for me.”
He wets his tongue before doing just that, and you almost drool at the way his muscles ripple before he takes up the middle of your mattress. “Here?”
“Mmhmm.” Moving to one side, you have him offer a wrist before you open a pair, wondering if you should make him comfortable with more pillows.
Then it hits you.
Does Jungkook really trust you of all people this much already to let you do this? Why is he so willing to let a stranger be the first to cuff him up? You know you’re responsible, but he doesn’t, so…
Hesitant, you flick your gaze to his.
And he answers before you even speak,
“I trust you.”
Getting lost in stars, you question, “Why, though?”
After swallowing—once, before lips are bitten again—Jungkook continues,
“Because I know I can.”
“I mean… Well, we can dig into that later,” you sigh. “But, here.” You pause strapping him in to open your nightstand drawer, fishing out two keys.
“I’ll put them right here,” you announce with two subtle clinks on the table. “And if your wrists start hurting really bad you better tell me.”
“I will.”
“Ehh. You can even just, Hulk out, honestly. I’m getting rid of this bed soon anyways.”
Jungkook laughs. “I’ll try not to break anything this time.”
“How considerate of you,” you huff, blowing amusement through your nose before clutching his arm again, seeing how many clicks it takes to cuff his wrist. “I’ll try not to break you this time, either.”
When he gives you expectant eyes, they’re swirling with thoughts. Hunger. Intrigue.
Will he last what you’re about to throw at him?
Because you’re already trembling with excitement, flutters spanning your entire belly.
“Are you clean, baby?”
He shoots you a questioning look, eyes wide. “Yeah.. why?”
“Because,” you wisp out, fluttering getting worse by the second as you round the bed, “Wanted to know before we play our game.”
“G.. Game?”
“Mmhmm.”
“What game.”
“Ah, just a silly one,” you tease. “One I play with everyone I put in these cuffs.”
His eyes never leave you, and you snap on the second pair before letting his arm dangle. And when you trace a finger down his veins, this is when you finally reveal,
“They can fuck me raw… But only if they can last longer than me.”
Inflating. Deflating. His lungs are doing the most. “Last?”
You pout before leaning down, feeling along his perfectly chiseled chin,
“Last without making a mess.”
He knows what you mean. You know he knows. It’s in the way his breath catches, in the way his pupils expand tenfold.
Fucking hell, you’re already soaked.
Without even sure if you can win, you goad, “Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“I dunno…”
“I will.”
Despite all the big talk, you’re betting against yourself. Which sets you up for a wonderful night, if anything.
Because if you last longer than him, it would be a miracle.
“I’ll go easy on you,” you vow, settling onto your bed and feeling along his ribs. “So don’t worry—”
“Don’t.”
You blink. “What?”
Metal already clanks against your bedposts, but it’s the sincerity in his voice that rings your ears. “Don’t go easy on me. Do what you want.”
What you want? Does he even know?
You really need to warn him about his word choices.
“Save that offer for a real lover,” you whisper through a smile too small. “But okay. I can do what I usually do.”
You go to stand then, smirk spiced as you start to strip down to only your underwear.
Those will come off in just a second.
Silent, you listen to his quickening breath as you kneel onto the mattress, divots short-lived as you sling your leg over to straddle him.
And his groan is already making you lose it.
But you inwardly beg for him to last, plead for him to be strong enough to get through this part so he can split you in two.
Because, after everything that’s happened, you’re so horny you probably would’ve done this whole thing in public.
Maybe then that guy would’ve called you special.
God. What is happening to you? You’ve never taken something to heart so stupidly. Why are you still hung up on what some dumb motherfucker said?
Is it the imposter syndrome of late rearing its head? The way you don’t think you deserve all the dope shit that’s about to happen to your life? The amazing shit that’s happening literally right now?
Looking down, you drink in Jungkook’s body and try hard to ignore the admiration filling his eyes, feeling like you shouldn’t receive even a drop of it.
But his brows crease before he whispers,
“This isn’t real.”
And something next to encouragement blooms right inside of your chest.
His eyes close then, and you hear the faintest of curses puff from his lips, biceps tightening as he shifts in the cuffs.
Don’t think about what happened tonight. Just think about the present.
The wonderfully handsome present.
Holding a moan back with your teeth, you slide both hands up his torso, marveling at how it ripples under your touch. “Eyes open, baby,” you coo. “Watch me.”
Jungkook’s stomach caves in with a pant before he slowly wills his vision back, and you lean down to kiss his neck—once, then another.
You can feel him tense as metal clinks ping into your ears, and the nonsense jumble against your cheek makes you chuckle far too much.
“So sensitive here,” you tease, and Jungkook lets out another breath. “How about here?”
When you reach to tweak one of his nipples, your whole body gets bumped as he arches upward, and the way his stomach hits your panties has you whining in his ear.
“Fuck,” he gasps, and you can visibly see his shoulder muscles working overtime, bed creaking with his strength.
Shit, he really might break your furniture if you aren’t careful.
But this is already way too fun to stop.
Raising yourself with palms on his chest, you grip him and scratch downward, making sure to scrape pebbled nipples on the way down to his abdomen. When he throws his head back, you can already see locks of hair clinging to his forehead, and your grin is downright impish.
“Almost done, baby boy,” you lie.
“Really?”
“Fuck no.”
Jungkook hums through a grunt and, to your surprise, he actually chuckles. “Good,” he breathes. “This is fun.”
How is he still managing to be so cute?
Amused to hell, you question, “That right?”
“Yeah.” He smiles, and you almost fall into his dimples. “I could do this all night.”
“Now that’s a fucking lie,” you retort. “You just like being cuffed, huh.”
“Guess so.”
“Figured.” You start roaming nails over his skin, charting dips and ridges and skirting over hard planes. Eyes hazy and full of hunger, you grit your teeth before finding your own skin, and you glide your hands down your thighs before sliding all the way to up your bra,
“I like the pain, too.”
The sound that leaves Jungkook adds even more slick to your center, and you giggle before squeezing your own chest. “You want this off?”
“Yes.”
“What was that?”
“Please.”
“Then take it off,” you goad, knowing he can’t do shit with his hands. “Awhh, wait… You can’t.”
Huffs of hard breaths permeate the air, the struggle of restraint soon following. “Please,” he begs, “Just… Fuck.”
“I mean, since you asked so eloquently,” you joke, reaching behind you to find the fastener. “Tell me what you want before I do.”
“I want…” Jungkook’s eyes squeeze shut before he opens them again, and his chest works double-time as he struggles through. “Want them… In my face.”
Your cunt throbs.
Thank god you’re still kneeling over his stomach. He definitely would’ve felt that if you were straddling him the right way.
But you have to keep the pace. What’s coming soon for you both has you vibrating so hard you might come undone.
“In your face, huh?” You unclip the bra before sliding it down your front, and your reveal has Jungkook tugging at both chains instantly, boosting your pride and your ego. “Maybe if you behave.”
“I will.”
You squeeze your chest again, tortuous before pinching your own nipples this time.
“Please!”
“What will you do, baby?” you whimper, leaning forward and wanting nothing but for him to suck on your tits. But you stay strong, letting them dangle like luscious fruit in front of a man starved. “Tell me.”
“I’ll—Do anything—” Sweat drips down his cheek, and his body is also starting to perspire all over. Which is perfect for what you want to torture him with next, and you waste no time in getting there. “Oh, fuck!”
His reaction makes you preen, because you just thrusted your whole cunt against his abs, arms squishing your tits together as you braced him for support.
And you moan as you do it again, thong serving as the only barrier between you both. “Kook,” you rasp out, not knowing where the nickname suddenly came from. “You feel so good.”
“I—I can’t—”
You grab a fist full of his hair, yanking a moan out of him so sinful that you feel fire erupt around your bedframe. “What was that,” you question, breath ragged and spent already. “Giving up?”
“No, no—shit.”
“Good.”
Diving down, you take one of his nipples in your mouth, rolling your tongue around and swooning at the high whine launching into your ceiling. Once, twice, five times you suck his dark skin in, moving your hand down from his head to his neck and cutting off his moan with another choke.
And you feel his abs rock against your pussy again, making you both groan while cuffs clang taut.
“Holy shit—”
You switch to his other nipple, humming around it and pinching his drenched one with force.
And you almost jump out of your bones at the sharp grunt of curses flying over your sweaty head.
But for some reason, you hear something surprising. Something that you rarely ever hear while in this position.
He’s laughing.
Sitting up, you brace yourself while watching him, brows kissing as his smirk tilts dangerously to the side. “What’s so funny,” you rasp out, matching his expression with your own.
When he simply chuckles, you react. Gripping his hair, you yank his head to the side again, annoyed at how it does nothing to wipe his smirk away. “I said,” you grit. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
Another yank. Another laugh. “Tell me.”
“You’re just…” His eyes slide sideways to lock with yours, and what he proudly vows makes you pulse so hard it hurts,
“You’re so fucking done when I’m free.”
Fuck.
Letting him go with force, you sit back up, thighs burning and knees sore from keeping yourself propped up above his waist. “Can’t prove it if you lose, baby boy,” you taunt.
“I won’t.”
“Big words.”
“Watch me.”
“Oh, I will,” you slur, sliding down his body until your ass is high above his jeans. “Can’t wait to watch you lose.”
And Jungkook’s reply is cut short by the way you brush your tits against his abs, gathering all sorts of slick before you reach his chest again. You give him a chaste kiss on his lips before sitting up, dragging your clothed cunt over his body once, twice, three disrespectful times.
“Shit.”
Groping your breasts, you bite your lip before directing a question downward,
“You wanna kiss them, baby?”
“Fuck yes, I do.”
“Mm,” you hum, squeezing them together and rolling against him again. “Too bad.”
“Please.”
“You gotta grab them first.” You chuckle, missing the way he looks at you before you slide your panties to the side. “Damn, guess we can’t get to that part yet,” you joke, eyes wide when you finally see his face.
Stop.
You snap into check-in mode immediately. “Hey, you okay?”
And he follows suit, haze cleared from his visage with a crack. “Huh, me? Yeah.”
“Wrists good?”
“Good. They’re good.”
“Okay,” you sigh in relief, thankful that he isn’t upset with the mood killer. “Let me know if they aren’t. You looked like you were in pain.”
“No, I just…” He pauses to lick his lips, and you don’t expect what he says next at all. “You’re really pretty.”
…Huh?
Has he completely lost it or is he for real?
At least it sounded much more sincere than what you heard at the bar.
You huff in pleasant surprise, not being able to recall the last time you received such a genuine compliment about your appearance. Does he mean your boobs? Your pussy? It’s so out there that you can only reply with,
“Wait til you see my ass.”
“No, I mean…” Jungkook trails off, and you glance down in the silence to see him staring at nowhere but your face. “Just, you.”
“Oh.”
Well then. That’s somehow harder to respond to.
“Thank you.”
He nods at your reply before breaths are the only sound he makes, prompting you to say more than two words of acknowledgement,
“You’re fucking handsome yourself.”
Instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel nothing but warmth. Because you don’t think even angels smile prettier than Jungkook does at your praise, and it makes you wanna kiss him just to have a taste of what heaven must sound like.
So you do, and he seems to not expect it by the way he tenses, arms locking upward as if he tried to sling them around your shoulders. Which you kinda want, cursing the way he hasn’t given in yet.
Stubborn as hell.
More determined than ever, you decide to turn the heat on full, sliding your panties back to the side while still claiming a mouth rubbed raw.
And your chuckle into his lips is devilish when you choke him, rolling your bare cunt against his torso and finally meshing your whole naked body onto his.
Jungkook locks up immediately, gurgling high into your mouth and flinching twisting thrashing under your limbs.
Not like you’re faring any better, pussy throbbing like a motherfucker and breath stolen in seconds. If you weren’t lip-locked with him, he definitely would be able to see your mirrored distress.
Fucking hell, he’s gonna make you come before you get his pants off—
Wait.
Pants!
Shit, he’s probably aching down there.
“Holy shit, wait,” you rush against his teeth before letting him go. “I’m so sorry.”
“Huh?”
“I forgot,” you say as you glance over your shoulder. “Your jeans. I’ll take’em off.”
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat as he begs in tiny syllables, “Yes, please.”
Goddamn it, you were right. Laughing, you boop his nose and scold,
“Why didn’t you say anything!”
“I thought it was part of the game!”
“You could’ve asked!”
“I’m not a quitter!”
Throwing your head back, you slide off of him to sit comfortably at his side, rejoicing when your thighs and knees get some reprieve. “That’s not even quitting.”
“It is to me.”
Well, not as much reprieve as his dick is about to feel finally being out of these…
He’s big.
Oh, fuck, you can tell he’s huge.
Fuck splitting you in two, he’s probably gonna snap you in half like a pringle.
“A what?”
You flick wide eyes his way, horrified that you actually said everything out loud. “Did I…?”
You did. “Uh huh.”
“Damn it.”
When he attacks with a dashing smile, you combat it with an eye roll before unbuttoning. “Well, let’s see if I’m even right.”
“Okay, Miss Pringle.”
How the hell is this guy surviving while being so restrained? Even jokes still come to him easily.
Shame you can’t allow yourself to be so into him.
You pout before getting back to work, lips curling upwards while drool makes its way to their corners. “Careful with that mouth,” you saucily warn as you finish unzipping. “Or I might give it something to do.”
“Please do.”
When you feel along the warm, massive tent in his underwear, you groan at the same time he does.
Fucking hell, he was definitely having a hard time down here. Pun very much intended.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Does it hurt?”
He lies. “Not much.”
After you knowingly hum, you offer, “Want me to kiss it better?”
“Mmph.” Hands curl into fists next to your bedposts. “That might work.”
“Okay,” you chuckle, leaning down to give him a hearty peck to his covered length. “There.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t feel it,” Jungkook lies again, and you shoot him a glare before you see his head thrown all the way back, chest heaving and glistening with sweat.
“Weird.” Your lips spread into cheshire widths as an idea slams into your head. “Let me try one more time.”
“That’d be… Best—fuck.”
Your kiss is accompanied by a lick, and the unsatisfying flavor of cloth coats your tongue when you prolong the swipe. “Better?”
You notice a small wet spot on his underwear, and you giggle to yourself when Jungkook gasps out,
“Nu uh.”
“Damn,” you pout to his cock, feeling along its ridges and wanting it stuffed far into your throat. If you hurry up and move forward with that plan, you can get it there in no time.
You subtly tug at the hem of his jeans. “Close your eyes and take these off first. Maybe that should help.”
When he lifts up, you slowly slide them downward, pupils dilating to the reaches of your iris when his length springs upward.
His very, very big length.
Holy fucking shit.
Gulping, you push his pants to the ground and try to keep your cool when you order, “Close, umm. Close your eyes.”
You could’ve just looked over and checked. It would’ve taken two seconds to see if his eyes were shut.
But you’re so glued to his dick that you could do absolutely none of those things.
Trusting that he did what you asked, you move off the bed to resituate yourself, getting on again and slinging a leg over his waist.
Only this time, you’re gonna move a lot lower than you were before.
Psyching yourself up, you keep in a moan as you back your ass up, sliding your slick over the length of his cock before coming back to his waist.
And Jungkook didn’t even make it a second before letting out a whine you’ll remember forever.
Your heart clangs with the cuffs banging against the bed, thumping with force as this beautiful man twists underneath your hands.
“Don’t—That’s cheati—”
You back up again, panties slid over your asscheek and your cunt hugging his delicious veins as you’re the second one to break into pleasure, “Holy shit.”
“Fuck!”
“No one’s ever beat me, Kookie,” you divulge in a whine, rolling your body and sliding your essence up his torso and getting wrecked by every demanding pulse in your center. “But I really want it.”
“I’ll fuck—I’ll fucking do it—”
“Wanna feel you like this.”
“I know—”
“Want my back blown the fuck out.”
“I can—”
“Can?”
Metal clinks and wooden creaks ring out. “Will! Just—fuck, you’re so—augh.”
Fuck, he’s making you feel so good. So powerful. “Look at me.”
When he peels weary eyes open, you kneel up straight over his damp skin, hand reaching between your spread legs. “Is this what you want?”
And when your fingers lodge themselves up your dripping folds, Jungkook’s jaw hangs in near-surrender, brows bent and broken in agony. His curse slides out and doesn’t stop, and he ends with a stuttered Yes.
“Come get it then,” you goad again, bucking forward when you brush over your clit. “If you can.”
He knows he can’t give up. You can see the conflict warring in his eyes.
Smirking, you show only a slice of mercy, leaning forward and gripping his chest with one hand.
And sticking the slicked fingers of another into his waiting mouth.
What you expect is for him to moan around your fingers. What you don’t expect is for his tongue to work around them so well, eyes backlit with pure lust as he sucks them with force.
Your jaw goes slack as you watch, visage shadowed as his cheeks hollow with each pass. You’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto his stomach in wet strings, and you want nothing more than to feel him so far into your pussy that you taste him in your throat. Just the thought alone pushes you to the edge.
You can’t take it anymore.
You’re gonna come.
Sitting up, you return your messy hand back to your cunt, swirling wet fingers over your clit and sitting back onto his pelvis. “You want me to come, baby?”
“I do.”
“You gonna come first?”
“N—No—” He’s struggling hard against the chains now, and you’re almost worried he’ll bust out of them before you can finish. His skin flushes a deeper color around his neck, and there’s no dry spot on his head as he watches you with unbridled lust. “Fuck, I might—”
You work double-time, throwing your head back when you gasp, “I’m so close—”
“Fuck, I’m about t—”
Your whine pierces the ceiling before your groan spills onto his stomach, your thighs locking around his taut waist as you feel your cunt quaking around your fingers.
The world. It’s spinning. It’s pulling pulling tugging you in all directions and you fall until you feel solid muscle hold up the pile that is your trembling limbs.
Breathe.
Breathe.
“Holy fuck.”
You almost think that was you, but you chuckle when you realize it definitely wasn’t. Satiated, you push spent bones up with a sweaty hand before glancing down at perfection. “You okay?”
Jungkook simply exhales as he thumps back onto the bed. After a moment, he stares back, locks shiny and chest heaving so hard you think his heart’s about to break free. “You’re too good.”
“Me?”
Another pause. “If you went two more seconds.. I’d be a goner.”
Damn. “Are you this honest all the time?”
“Maybe,” he divulges. “But I am now.”
Suddenly, his lazy smile starts to transform, and you don’t know why you’re feeling just as riled up as you were before. But before you can say anything, Jungkook sounds confident as hell,
“And I’m pretty sure I just won, so...” Goddamn that slanted smirk. “You have to let me go.”
Thoroughly amused, you hum. “Is that so?”
“I didn’t make the rules.”
“True.” You exhale. “Gimme a second.”
Gathering yourself, you feel your own juices coating his abdomen as you slide off, both of you groaning in impatience as you shakily gather the first key.
Almost there.. almost.. One cuff off. Now for the next—
You catch Jungkook immediately reaching for you, and you fully expect him to fondle one of your breasts.
But instead, you feel a layer of warmth and sweat on your cheek, and you peer down to see him drowning you in starlight from below.
Fuck. Why did your heart just lurch? “You okay?”
He simply nods, stargaze never wavering as you round the bed to unlock the second set, leaving both fluffy cuffs hanging from exhausted bedposts.
And you almost don’t know what to do before you cough out. “Well then. This is usually when I grab a con—”
You’re tugged forward before you feel a firm pair of arms hoist you in, and you use your feet to propel you upward right onto him before you’re squished next to his solid side. “Jung—”
Shit, he’s strong!
Before you know it, you’re the one underneath, and you immediately feel his rock hard cock tensing against your inner thigh. Thick inked biceps surround you as your mouth gets smothered by desperation, and you lose yourself in the way every ounce of power you had transfers elsewhere.
But now you kinda understand Jungkook’s feelings from before.
Because you somehow, comfortably, strangely trust the man above you, too. Like you know you can.
…Why?
After a second toe-curling kiss, he towers over, looking hungry yet excited as hell.
And you very much feel the same way.
“You shouldn’t’ve let me go.”
“You—” A whine jets out of your throat when he propels forward, shoving the length of his cock against your entrance and making you realize just how tight the fit is gonna be.
“Cus I’ll play whatever game you want.” Another thrust fuck! “But I’ll always win.”
Your breath is ragged as you curse, loving the way this man is switching it up so flawlessly. You’re starting to wonder which position he truly prefers, if there even is one.
“Come get your prize then,” you taunt with a brave chin. “Baby boy.”
Lightning quick, you arch upward as he dives into your neck, whining when his fingers also make a beeline for your legs.
He yanks one of them to the side, the burn searing through you as you feel him nick your skin with a growl. “This,” he seethes, sliding deft fingers up your folds before giving them a light tap. “Felt so perfect on me.”
You can only whine, groaning long when he swirls around your clit before leaving it, and you feel his knuckles as he grabs his cock.
“I couldn’t stop,” you whisper to his look of concentration, meaning every word.
He glances at your face for a second before focusing back, and you both can’t hold back your pleasure as he sticks his tip inside.
Fuck. It may feel perfect around him, too.
“Kook,” you gasp, already seeing galaxies from how sensitive you feel. “Oh, my god.”
His grunt rolls down like boulders, breath hard and shaky on the exit. “So wet,” he grits, and you can see him visibly exerting everything to not bust already. “Hold on.”
Feeling a mix of pride and shyness, you bring him down for another kiss, letting yourself go when he returns it with fervor.
After a second, his tongue pushes inside your mouth the same time he moves in deeper, and your legs clamp him like a vice.
“Fuck yes,” you sigh, “Like that. Just like that.”
He feels so fucking good. Almost too good. You’re regretting just skipping to this part because you’re ready for him to erase all possibility of you walking out of your room tomorrow—
“Yeah, screw it.”
That’s the only warning you get before he pulls out slightly, only to push forward and stretch you out far holy shit!
“Baby!”
Sounds tumble from behind his clenched teeth—or words, you aren’t sure—before he flexes his arms, ramming into you again. Again. Again.
You’re fully clinging onto him now, nails raking love lines into his shoulders and mouth stamping curses and orders into his neck. “Yes yes yes. Just like that.”
“You like that?”
“Yes!”
The way he fills you is too perfect. As he rams you into the bottom of your headboard, you fall limp and feel like this is exactly what the both of you were born to do. Conjoin just like this, stroke after stroke after toe-curling stroke.
“So tight.”
“Fuck—Fast—go faster.”
Up until this point, Jungkook has been matching your desperation, clawing at you just as much.
So when he halts, a switch is flipped, and your world is upturned.
“What was that? Go slower?”
No no no, he is not gonna do this right now. “No!”
“Okay, we’ll go slower.”
“Kook—”
Slinging an arm around your side, his next pumps are so slow that you almost beg for mercy, and he straight up ignores you by latching onto one of your tits instead.
You can’t you can’t you can’t stand it. It feels like you’re in parallel planes, at the edge in one and far from it in the other. So close so far not close enough.
“Please!”
Taking his sweet time, the little shit releases your nipple with a pop before tutting, “Nope.”
And he licks at it again before you can complain, whining lust to your ceiling and digging your head into your pillows.
You’re losing it. If you thought you were before, that was nothing compared to how you feel now. If you were chained up while he was doing this same shit you would’ve cracked your entire bed to get to him.
He switches to your other nipple, tweaking the previous just like you did to him and making you mewl in frustration.
“Such nice tits,” he growls, shoving into you hard before taking you in his hot mouth again. “Fuck.”
“Baby—I need it, please—”
“Nope. We’re going my pace now,” he chuckles, swirling a hot tongue over your sensitive nub. “Unless you give up again.”
“I do,” you surrender, feeling it with your whole being. “I give up. Just—fuck the shit outta me.”
He stares at you before relenting, your white flag the only thing he needed to break loose.
“You asked for it.”
That’s all you get before he pulls out, slamming into you at a pace that has you spinning off your axis. Further further further you’re shoved upward, your arms so weak they fall to your sides as you give him all control.
You’re not sure if anything other than his name escapes your lips. Because that’s the only word in your vocabulary at the moment, especially when he leans down to suck on your nipples like he wasn’t just doing it seconds ago.
“Kook!”
Your name slips from his tongue almost reverently, which you’ll ponder over later because you don’t ever remember telling him what it was.
“So good,” he groans, and you can’t get over how great he feels inside. You’re being stretched to your limit and you feel him in your guts, and yet, it feels like he belongs there.
Impossible. He’s way too perfect.
He snatches your lips once more, cutting off your thoughts with a hand to your throat. “Say it again,” he commands, and your jaw goes slack as you try to remember what the fuck you just said.
“Hmm?”
“My name,” he grits out before moving to your ear. “Say it again.”
“Jungkook,” you breathe, shivering at his tightened fingers around your neck.
“Again.”
“Jungkook.”
“Good girl,” he praises before nipping your ear. “Turn around for me.”
“Turn—? Mm.”
Dazed, you let him leave you with an aching need before you slowly roll, whimpering when your ass is yanked backward.
And flinching when it’s slapped with a wet hand.
“Fuck, it is nice,” Jungkook observes with a rumble in his tone. “Damn.”
“Told you.”
Strong hands grip your hips higher, forcing you to assume a position on your knees. You’re already buzzing with excitement inside, but when he groans while pushing back in, your emotions whoosh out your lips.
And he grits out a snarky remark before making your whole bed shake,
“My name.” A pause. “Say it louder this time.”
Immediately, your compliance is smothered by cotton, eyes squeezed shut as his strokes hit deep and deeper and perfectly.
“This is what you wanted, right?”
“Mm—!”
Fuck he’s hitting all the right places you can stay like this forever you’re never gonna leave—
“Torturing me.” Thrust. “Teasing me.” Stroke. “Thinking I would break.”
“Yes!” You sob, loving how this man is bringing out every side of you tonight. The bold. The repentant. Everything in between.
“Who’s breaking now?”
“I’m—I’m—”
“Gimme your hands,” Jungkook commands. “My turn.”
Tears of pure pleasure run down your face as you surrender your wrists, and your eyes roll heavenward when they’re held flush against your back as he plunges in again.
Slaps of flesh ring throughout your room, competing with your pleas and his hisses. Days from now, you’re gonna remember this exact moment, and a flame will spread through your veins like wildfire.
His name leaves you in a scream as he tilts up to hit a new angle, and you physically don’t feel any of your limbs or muscles or thoughts anymore. All you know is him him him, and it’s a fact that nothing else exists.
“Fuck, I can feel you—”
“Baby!”
Your hands are mercifully released, and sore arms thump onto the bed before you feel his sweaty front smother your slick back. Before you can process what’s happening, one of your nipples is tweaked underneath you, and you flinch hard as he chuckles.
“Mmph. Fuck, I love your body,” he admits. “Shit.”
Exercising even more strength, he hauls you up quick, your back smacking his chest as you practically sit on his thighs.
All you can do is moan as he keeps thrusting up into your cunt, hands groping at your tits before giving them a slap. Then another. Each one making you crumble—piece, by piece, by piece.
“Kook,” you gasp, reaching behind your head to grip his hair. “Feel so good—”
You’re cut off by fingers around your throat, pulse thrumming wildly at the pressure. Behind you, Jungkook groans before slinging an arm around to hold you in place, pistoning up and launching you into another universe.
“Can do this all night,” he rasps in your ear. “But I wanna feel you come. Around me this time.”
Fucking hell, you’re about to.
Your response comes out a gargle as you tense, the way he’s pounding your core rendering you limper than ever. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re sure you would collapse flat on your face. “Gon—Gonna—I’m close—”
“I feel it.” You bend as he arcs your back like a bowstring, keeping you taut until the bitter end. “Come for me, baby.”
But your end isn’t bitter at all.
It’s a burst of euphoria, colors spanning across closed eyes as your throat is released, wave after wave sucking you in and spitting you out back onto shore.
Every single limb locks into place, and you can barely register the way Jungkook’s gripping your upper body to stay upright.
“Holy fuck,” he hisses in surprise, groaning when you keep milking him with each forceful pulse. “Fuck!”
“Baby”—you gulp, grasping for him behind your trembling spine—“Wanna see you.”
Jungkook obliges with both swiftness and care. When he lets you down gently, you sigh in relief, welcoming him with open arms and legs as he swoops down to snatch your lips again.
His cock finds your soaked entrance instantly, and it takes nothing for him to squeeze back in with a lewd squish. “Shit, you feel—I’m gonna come.”
“Do it,” you plead, spreading your thighs as wide as they’ll allow. “Fill me up.”
He groans long before hanging his head. “Don’t say that.”
“I mean it.” When he looks at you for one more piece of assurance, you wearily grip his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
And a fire flickers to life in his eyes.
He brings you to a whole other level of ecstasy, sitting up and onto his haunches to spread you wide. Slippery hands grab at your thighs for balance before he rams mercilessly into your heat, and you know he’s close by the way his movement stutter.
“Come inside, baby,” you whine, that term flying out so naturally. “Fucking do it.”
And come he does, hot spurts flinging out and painting your insides white. His groan competes with your whines and encouragement, and you love the way he stares right where he’s splitting you in half and filling you whole.
It must look fucking erotic from his point of view.
No wonder he’s spitting more nonsense than you are.
But, he finally stops, lodging his cock far into your cunt and making you more feral than any animal dare challenges. Overstuffed is exactly how you’d note this feeling, and you’re kicked closer to the edge the longer he stays in place.
He’s still in you why is he still there holy fuck holy fuck you’re gonna come again?
“I’m—”
“Oh, fu—”
He grips your hips to slam into your soul one more time, and that’s what shoves you over the cliff face, teetering between reality and fiction because he’s right. There’s no way any of this is real.
Your third orgasm is the most lethal, causing flashes of white to temporarily disorient you and leaving your bones a locked, trembling, shaking mess.
Above you, words and praises are being spoken, but you can’t hear what they are. All you know is that your body is singing on its last drops of energy, and you take forever and a day to float back down from your high.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Four breaths more.
When he pulls out, you still feel full, and you can feel his essence drip from your entrance as his teeth block a groan.
Does he look pleased? Satisfied? You can only guess. Because you don’t even know if your eyelids can function now.
“So beautiful,” you hear him praise in a whisper. And a hand caresses your cheek before he sighs, “Can’t believe it.”
Why is he the one in disbelief? You’ve been admiring him nonstop ever since he gave you a drink. If anything, you should be the one thanking him for his time and his fantastic dick.
Nah. This was a lot more than a casual hookup.
But you literally can’t think about that now.
“Gonna…” you trail off, heavy breaths making you even more exhausted. “Gonna clean up.”
“I can help.”
“No, no, I don’t need it,” you exhale, realizing that you may be wrong if you can’t even get step one right. “Maybe just help me up.”
He giggles before sliding from the bed, and your eyes feel groggy when you try opening them. You’re gently peeled from crumpled sheets as you force them alert, and you think you look a wreck as your feet touch the floor.
“I’ll be back,” you rasp, letting him help your hunched body to your restroom that’s five paces away. “Gimme a minute.”
“Mmhmm.”
And just like that, you give yourself some sudden privacy with a small click.
The light in your bathroom has never been your favorite.
Even now, as you sit through its unpleasant buzz, you keep your eyes shut and your opinion the same.
But at least it’s been there to keep you company all these years. Greeting you with a blinding flash after all your shows and hookups and bad decisions.
Jungkook is far from a choice you regret, though.
All your limbs are delightfully sore and spent, and you finally vacate the toilet while wondering if he’d be okay staying a bit longer.
Would he be fine with that? Or would he wanna take off like all the others?
Starry eyes.
Warm smile.
Wrists that are probably rimmed red.
Awash with a light that you don’t quite like, you snap into action and grab cream after washing up, hoping that the shuffling you hear outside your door doesn’t mean he’s leaving.
When you step back into darkness lifted by only moonlight, you see the silhouette of a man, and you’re relieved that it meshes with the outline of your… straightened sheets?
The noises you heard were from him making the bed?
Your expression must be unfiltered. Because you immediately hear a faint,
“Oh, I just, uhh. Fixed them a little. Sorry if that was weird.”
Adorable as hell.
You don’t say anything until you slide onto the mattress. “Lemme see your wrist.”
“Hmm? Ah, they’re okay.”
“False.” You firmly take one of his forearms, admiring the canvas of tattoos before checking if he has a temporary one around the base.
He does. He very, very much does. Because with all that thrashing, why wouldn’t he? “Fuck, this doesn’t hurt?”
The only answer you get is a shrug, and you try not to get distracted by his bare chest as he gives a noncommittal sound. “I was just gonna deal with it.”
“Ugh,” you groan, wondering if even making the bed must have stung. “You don’t have to be stubborn anymore.”
Sitting against your headboard, you motion for him to sit up next to you, silent as he obliges with a small grunt.
Gently lying his arm on your thigh, you unscrew your cream before gathering a good amount, hearing him hum a popular tune to himself.
And you softly kiss his wrist before rubbing the healing ointment on, wondering why the hell you did the first thing so naturally.
Is it because this is his first time doing this sort of thing? Judging by the jagged burns etched into his skin, he was a bit overzealous…
No. You don’t just kiss wrists like that.
For some reason, it just felt right to do so.
Of course this happens to you now. If only you found this wonderfully strange man before. Or at least noticed him sooner. Maybe then… You…
He’s humming again.
But this one isn’t popular at all.
In fact, it’s the complete opposite, and such a shock that burns bloom at the edges of your eyes.
Voice the smallest it’s ever been, you turn to ask in the dark, “You know that song?”
Under faint moonlight, Jungkook looks like a boy caught with hands that match his wrists. “Uh, I… Yeah.”
There’s no way.
Absolutely no way.
Gulping, you try hard to keep your sentence level as it leaves, “That’s the first one I ever released.”
“I know.”
“It’s only on Youtube… On a page I don’t even use anymore.”
He pauses while looking at his wrist on your frozen thigh. “I know.”
Stunned, you can’t believe what’s happening. Everything you learned about this man flies out the windows of your brain to make room for this one fact. This singular fact that has you nothing but shell-shocked.
“…How?”
He swallows before lightly holding your fingers. When he presses them a bit tighter, you feel him shake. “Ah. I wasn’t planning on saying this, but I… I know all your songs.”
“You do?”
Jungkook nods, and both of your gazes are firmly locked—yours, his face; his, far from yours. “You remember that show you did at The Love Club? When you got tangled up and fell?”
Ah. Time to look away. “You mean my first show ever that was a total waste of time? Thanks for reminding me.”
“A waste of time?” He scoffs with confusion. “Nu uh. I was there with a friend that night, and I thought you were so… I dunno how to explain it.”
“Uncool?”
“Amazing.”
You shoot him a look, and he plays with your sheets. “No one else would’ve played after that. But you did, even when your hand was messed up.”
No crying. You cannot cry.
You saw that first gig as an absolute failure, and that was years ago. After your hand was banged to hell, you knew you weren’t gonna get another chance.
But you played anyway. You saw the whole gig through and held in your tears until after you left to rush to your car.
What if you didn’t?
If you never played that first night… Where would you be now?
“After seeing that? I knew you were gonna be somebody.” You stare at nothing when he continues with reverence, “I’ve been following you ever since.”
Your chest feels heavy when you give him a look. “This whole time? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t wanna make it weird.”
This is when you realize.
That’s why he looked familiar.
Even though you had never met him, you must have seen him in all the crowds you pulled—big or small, quiet or loud, exciting or rude.
Jungkook was there? The whole time?
While you’re grappling with several emotions, he scratches his ear. “And, uhh. If you haven’t noticed, you scare the shit out of me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He laughs while you give him a light shove, thankful for this break in uncomfortable things called feelings. “You just broke my entire spine.”
“This wasn’t the plan, by the way.”
“Oh, so you did have a plan, huh?”
“No, no, it’s not like that!”
Why does his laugh have to be endearing as hell? You’re already weak from his dick, his laugh cannot win you over, too.
And his smile shines so brightly. How did you miss him in the crowds?
After a sigh, he leans his head back against your headboard. “I really was only planning on saving you. But then things kept happening and happening… like a dream. I couldn’t believe any of it.”
“I had fun with you.”
“And that guy… I just—” He grabs at his hair before letting his arm down with frustration. “He’s wrong, okay?”
Before you can stop yourself again, your heart starts to leak from your eyes. “I guess.”
“He is.” Visibly annoyed, Jungkook shakes his head and holds back his tongue. “He knows nothing.”
Just like that, everything that you’d been shaken by falls to the wayside. You thank everything that Jungkook was there. That he believes in you. That he decided that tonight was the night to be brave.
Touched beyond belief, you squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
He nods, eyes hesitant. “And uhm… I can leave, too, if you want.”
“Huh?”
Didn’t this man just say he’s been there since day one? Didn’t the two of you just have mind-blowing sex? He’s fine giving you space after all that?
You’ve never met someone this wonderfully confusing.
“I can go now, if that’s what you want.”
“What do you want?”
The incredulous look he gives makes your heart pulse. “Me?”
Smiling, you reiterate, “Yes, you. What do you wanna do?”
“Not go.”
Both of you share a quiet laugh before you offer, “Then don’t.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m cool with it.”
“You’re always cool.”
…Holy shit.
When Jungkook said he’d just been calling you cool, he didn’t mean just tonight. He meant...
This whole time, you’ve had someone silently cheering you on and seeing your ups and downs. Someone that knows your songs by heart and yet was too nervous to say anything. Someone that finally decided to say something at the first sign of your doubt.
How do you thank someone for that? How do you show appreciation that can’t be conveyed with lyrics or words or any language you know?
Years from now, you probably still won’t have an answer.
“Ah, stop. We can’t both be shy,” you finally scold with a smirk, huffing at his nose scrunch. “Anyway. I don’t have much here anymore, but I do have food.”
Nudging him, you raise an eyebrow. “Wanna come to my kitchen for ramen?”
He realizes what you mean instantly, grinning before a reply you don’t expect,
“If you come over to see my cat.”
Did he just..?
The two of you share a serious look before bursting into laughter, and you don’t know why you’re enjoying yourself so much. But you’re welcoming it all, and even considering his offer quite seriously.
“I respect it,” you huff with pride. “If I’m ever back in this city, I’ll know where to go.”
“Wait, what?”
Oh.
Fuck.
Goddamn it.
Being at peace with this information for awhile now, you let it slip without thinking. It’s just a part of your daily knowledge.
But there isn’t any news out there about this change. No one except the band and whoever you decided to tell knows, so it absolutely would be a shock.
Shit.
You feel nothing but regret when you prepare your confession, and its shadow transfers like an ink stamp into your voice,
“I’m moving.”
Don’t give those eyes.
Stop staring like that.
“Where?”
Why does your chest feel too heavy to carry? This shouldn’t be how the night ends. Not like this. “Somewhere pretty far from here.”
Don’t ask when. Don’t ask when. Because you don’t wanna tell.
“…When?”
You really don’t wanna tell.
Mustering all the courage you’ve ever had, you compromise, “Let’s have a good fucking night, and then I’ll spill.”
Jungkook stares like he already knows the answer, but he’s a good sport nonetheless.
Cracking his knuckles, he promises with a broken smile, “Then I’ll make tonight the longest one ever.”
“Good,” you whisper, getting up and welcoming the way he slings your leg around his lap. “Because I’m not even close to being done with you.”
When you kiss him, he latches on with newfound energy, keeping it condensed and powering it straight into your soul.
And whether or not you made it into the kitchen for ramen, you don’t remember for sure.
All you know is that you escaped the future for another two and a half hours.
And he made sure to make it feel like eight.
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fin. :’))
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<3 ahhhh so how did it go !! <3
A/N: well hello, y’all! this is my first jk fic in a long ass time, so i hope you enjoyed! finally got the guts to finish and post it thanks to all of you, so thank you for giving me all the encouragement and final push<3 silent and active readers alike, this is a subtle love letter to you, because i know you’re there even if you don’t say anything! i still wanted to thank all of y’all in some way for being here.
A/N 2: again, huge ass thank you to everyone! the ending is open to interpretation but i did love writing this couple, so.... you never know :’)) if y’all enjoyed them then who knows what ends up happening later down the line!
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sleepwalking ● 23 | jjk
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, mentions of drugs (nothing graphic), descriptive SMUT (pet names and a sprinkle of worship included, beware), fluff and too much flirting to be allowed, some angst, SLOW BURN
words: 19.8k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
chapter 23 ► in this open warfare, i won't fight fair, and in your waking moments, i will be there
The next morning, you and Jungkook took Minjun, Luna, and Maggie to a small restaurant—unreasonably far from your hotel in London—to have a late breakfast and to plot. The five of you were a lot more concerned with the latter, and the bacon and egg sandwiches on your plates were relegated to mere decoration.
You had already discussed your plan with Luna and Maggie over the phone last night, but you wanted to meet everyone in person to ensure you were all on the same page, and to inform Jungkook of his role (which was intentionally non-existent).
You believed that the fewer members of Rated Riot got tangled up in Sid’s slimy web, the lower the risk of collateral damage. Ideally, you would have left Jungkook out entirely. But his friendship with Sid made him a linchpin in the machinations of your scheme—he would be the most affected if something went awry.
“This plan relies heavily on the circumstances, I admit,” you said, while your friends feigned interest in their food to avoid the disapproving glances of the restaurant staff. “But maybe that will work to our advantage because we will hardly have to do anything. We will draw the authorities’ attention to Sid, and that’s it. He’ll do the rest himself.”
“Yeah,” Minjun added as your primary accomplice in this scheme. He was busy trying to stop his napkins from blowing away in the fierce wind on the restaurant’s terrace. “And that’s why we need Jude to let us into their hotel room—”
“Wait,” had become Jungkook’s new favourite word. He used it now, too. “And are we sure that Jude won’t change his mind?”
Maggie and Luna turned to you, mirroring Jungkook’s skepticism.
“We’re not,” you admitted. You were aware of the risk, but time has never been more of the essence, and Jude was your best option. “We’re not telling him too much and hoping for the best.”
“And to be honest,” Minjun added, “the fact that she gave him that laundry list of shit to do—”
“Wait,” Jungkook said again. “What list?”
You waved off his question, but Minjun answered on your behalf, clinging to this as if it was the only convincing evidence the five of you had against Jude changing his mind.
“Like, vitamins and stuff,” he explained. “To ease his withdrawals. I don’t know if he followed her instructions, but anyone could see how much it meant to him, just the fact that she cared enough. Maybe that’ll be what keeps him on our side, even though he’s back with Sid right now.”
Maggie wrinkled her nose in clear disapproval, although you knew she would have reacted the same way if she’d seen Jude—her heart was bigger than her head, bless her.
“He’s done nothing to deserve this from you,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, he—yeah,” Jungkook agreed, the confidence in his voice wavering as he alternated between gratitude for your concern about Jude, and guilt for putting you in this position. “You didn’t have to help him.”
“He’s really not doing well,” you said. “And don’t think I’m so kind, I acted largely out of my own self-interest. We need him for our plan.”
Jungkook recalled Jude’s sneezing, his shivers in forty-degree heat, and his nausea. All of his symptoms always came and went without warning, but the memory of someone going out of their way for him was likely to stay.
“Okay,” Jungkook acquiesced. “That’s—let’s keep going.”
“We won’t need to involve Jude every step of the way, though, right?” Luna clarified. “I mean, I assumed we’d mainly need him to get rid of whatever Sid has in his phone gallery.”
“Yeah, but not just—we’re not just deleting the videos with Jungkook,” you said, glancing at Minjun, who had supported you wholeheartedly when you mentioned this part of the plan to him. He nodded now, too, encouraging you to explain. “We’ll delete everything he has in his Cloud storage and factory reset his phone. I doubt Sid had enough sense to back up his files to an external drive, so this will clear every copy of everything he has on there.”
Maggie’s eyes finally lit up with lively excitement, Luna nodded in agreement, and you felt a smile forming on your own lips, too.
Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared almost disappointed.
“W-we don’t have to go through all of this just to delete those videos,” he said, fixing his gaze on his untouched cup of matcha latte; the artwork on the surface had begun to blur. “Those things happened. I did all of that shit, and Sid recorded it. That’s who I was back then, and maybe I shouldn’t try to—”
You interrupted his words—the ones you’d already heard before—with a gentle touch of your hand over his restless fingers, and Jungkook stilled, turning to you.
“No, those videos are not who you are. You are the one who decides who you are,” you reiterated once more and the table fell silent around you as if everyone had witnessed something they were not supposed to. “And if you want to leave those things in the past, you should be able to. Sid has no right to bring it up now.”
“But if we lock Sid up,” he persisted, “then maybe those videos won’t matter anyway.”
“He could publish them,” Minjun countered. “He sent them directly to you now, but he could post them publicly later. I’m sure he’d find a way to do that even behind bars.”
Jungkook felt a rush of dizziness and he was very grateful that you’d pressed your hand on his. Minjun was right. Sid had done something like this before when he’d posted your picture; he clearly wasn’t above making private matters public.
“We would leave the videos be, let Sid have them, whatever,” you continued, reading the colour on his face, “but he wants to use them against you. He’s cutting them up to paint you as an irresponsible asshole. And you’re not an asshole, Jungkook.”
“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “And I talked to Jude about an hour ago. He sounded sober, which is shocking to me, but, anyway—Sid has plans to go out tonight, so Jude should be able to do this tomorrow morning while Sid’s still passed out.”
The whole terrace of the restaurant seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as soon as he said that, the clink of cutlery and the muffled chatter around you growing tense.
Jungkook, even dizzier now, turned back to you once more. You gave him a small nod.
He took a breath and nodded back. “Okay. Alright. Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Good!” Maggie cheered from across the table. She turned to Jungkook, and you watched as her reassuring tone chased the last doubts from his eyes. “Even without those videos, we need to do this to get back at Sid. And I know this will do just that. I’d be tearing my hair out if someone cleansed my Cloud.”
You noticed that Maggie was much more vigilant with her phone today, hardly letting it out of her sight. She’d improved her security measures and had to enter her passcode every time she wanted to reply to a text today, because the facial recognition struggled to recognise the wind in her hair. This was the reason she hadn’t bothered with it before, but Sid had taught her a valuable lesson.
You gave your friend an agreeing nod and settled against the back of your chair.
Luna sat on your other side, leaning her elbows on the table, and she quickly noted the way Jungkook’s eyes widened when you pulled back, as if you had torn off a piece of his skin. She glanced at Maggie, who noticed nothing and kept checking the time on her phone as if she was late for another meeting to plan someone’s arrest.
Somewhat disappointed, Luna turned back to you, her grin doubling in size to compensate for her lack of company in teasing you.
“One big problem,” you said, focused on the intricacies of your plan and, therefore, unaware of your surroundings, “lies in our next steps. If we manage to get Sid arrested, he will likely weaponise his friendship with Jungkook. He’ll try to make it seem like they’re as close as brothers, and if he’s going to jail for meth possession, then Jungkook is probably doing drugs, too.”
You pulled your phone out from your bag and allowed for the weight of your words to settle on the table like a heavy grey tablecloth while you opened your gallery.
“So, this morning,” you continued, “Maggie and I put something together. This is a list of people who are banned from Rated Riot’s shows.”
You passed your phone to Luna first. She looked at the screen, nodded, and handed the phone to Maggie, who smiled to herself right away—she had designed the layout of the list and was very pleased with it.
By the time your phone reached Jungkook, he was already squirming in his chair. As he examined the list of names, displayed in bold white letters on a black background with a crumpled paper texture that Maggie had crafted and digitalised herself, he realised that the only name he recognised was Sid’s.
He looked up. “But if you post that—that’s—isn’t it supposed to be confidential?”
“I won’t post it,” you said. “We’ll leak it.”
“Oh.” A gleam of affection suddenly sparkled in his eyes. He felt a little like he’d just met you for the first time, all over again. “Can we do that?
Maggie reached across the table, snatching your phone from Jungkook’s hand to see the picture of the list again. She scrutinised the names for a minute as if trying to uncover the social security numbers of the people listed.
“No,” you replied. “But Sid never played fair, so we’re simply levelling the playing field. The other names on the list are made up anyway. They’re generic enough to match someone on Facebook, but no one will know which person is on this list.”
“But they’ll recognise Sid,” Maggie pointed out, squinting at your phone. “Even though he’s listed as Isidore here. Right?”
“That’s him, yeah,” you confirmed. “And you’re right. Everyone will recognise Sid. We’ll leak this before he gets arrested, and anything he says after that will just be taken as blatant slander.”
Jungkook took another deep breath and glanced at your phone, which Maggie slid towards you across the table. It bumped against the corner of your empty water glass.
“Won’t there be consequences if something else leaks?” he asked, his teeth grazing his bottom lip.
“Yeah, I was thinking that, too,” you admitted. “But then, Luna texted me a brilliant idea last night.”
You gestured towards your friend, and she continued.
“It’ll be accidental,” she explained. “Maggie usually posts backstage pictures on her Instagram. She has almost as many followers as the main account of your band at this point. So, later today, she will post a new set of pictures, and this list of names will just happen to be visible in some shots. Just a coincidence, really. And then we hope that one of your fans will notice it, zoom in, catch Sid’s name, and share it.”
Jungkook looked down, nodding to himself. He realised that Sid stood little chance against the collective resolve of everyone at this table.
“They will notice it,” he said. “I don’t doubt it.”
“We’ll have to rely on them to spread this,” you added. “Even though this list isn’t really something we need to hide. It’s just, you know, sort of customary in the industry to keep your dirty laundry to yourself.”
“Alright,” Jungkook said, sensing the weight of everyone’s gaze on him. He had the feeling that everyone was waiting for his final approval to move forward with this plan. “So, uh, Maggie won’t get into trouble for posting it?”
“Hmm?” Maggie looked up from her phone at the sound of her name. “Oh. No. I’m the photographer. As long as I get good shots, I never get in trouble. And this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve taken a picture that reveals more than I intended.”
She gave you a sheepish look, and you shook your head, sensing where the guilt in her eyes stemmed from. Maggie knew that Sid was behind the chaos caused by the bathtub picture, but she still felt a gnawing sense of responsibility because she was the one who had taken the picture.
“Alright. You, uh—you guys really put a lot of thought into this,” Jungkook remarked, looking at you first, then at your friends, and finally at Minjun on his other side. “I’m, uh—I-I’m actually a little afraid of you.”
Luna and Minjun snickered—Maggie was back on her phone, but she was smiling, too—and their excitement made you feel much more optimistic.
“Good,” you said, reaching out to touch Jungkook’s hand again. He immediately turned his hand round and firmly clasped yours—to ensure you wouldn’t pull away this time. “Sid should be, too.”
A tense silence settled over the table, punctuated by the subdued conversations on the terrace.
For the first time since you arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook finally took a sip of his coffee. It tasted bitter and lukewarm. You refrained from touching yours, but accepted a bite of Luna’s tiramisu. Everyone else at the table seemed to remember simultaneously that they had ordered food when they got here.
“Uh,” Maggie spoke up after a second, still chewing on the brown crust of her bacon and egg tart. “Is this a safe space for us to voice our, uh, concerns?”
You straightened in your seat, bracing yourself before she’s even said anything. Jungkook sensed your growing anxiety and squeezed your hand.
“Of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.
“Okay.” Maggie swallowed and set down her fork after taking exactly one and a half bites. “Well, I’m worried that Sid will say something provocative and one of us will end up getting arrested for assault.”
There was something absurdly comical in her question—or the potential outcome it suggested—and you could see Minjun quickly lower his head to conceal his broad smile.
Jungkook, meanwhile, was extremely pleased that no one turned to look at him, the person who had, more or less, already assaulted Sid before. It comforted him to know that everyone here would have loved to smack Sid upright in the head, too.
“That’s a great point,” you said, clearing your throat. “If he provokes you—well, then you might have a legitimate reason to, uh, land a good punch. You probably wouldn’t be held in custody too long for that. There’s no premeditation, you acted on impulse because of something he said.”
Minjun raised an eyebrow at you from across the table.
“I thought our focus was drug laws,” he said. “Did you research assault, too?”
“I researched assault laws the day I met Sid,” you deadpanned.
He snorted. “Yeah, fair enough.”
“Not to mention, we can always argue it’s self-defence,” Luna added, prodding her sandwich with a toothpick as if it were a not-quite-dead bug. “Sid is very—let’s say, aggressive.”
“That’s true,” Minjun agreed. “Especially when he’s irritated.”
The energy around the table had increased considerably; everyone seemed to have something to say about possible reasons to hit Sid. Maggie was already listing five ways to throw a punch that would knock out your opponent—she had a WikiHow article open and was illustrating it with enthusiastic demonstrations on Minjun.
You realised, quite suddenly, how happy you were to sit here with your friends. They were smart and cunning enough to rob a bank, escape a prison, and start a money laundering scheme all in a week, but they chose to be sweet and loving and a little vengeful instead. You felt almost giddy.
“He wouldn’t throw the first punch, though,” Jungkook interjected with a hint of frustrated sorrow. Maggie halted her research, retracting her fist from Minjun’s cheek. “He’ll just keep running his mouth until you strike him. And he’ll make sure the provocation is very minimal.”
“Well, sure, but who at this table will attest to any of that?” Luna questioned, undeterred. “Everyone who witnessed Sid throwing the first punch, raise your hands.”
All of you raised your hands in perfect synchronisation, and Jungkook felt himself smile again.
He had never doubted the success of your plan, even if he doubted the details. But sitting here now, while all of you held your hands up, he was fully convinced that this meeting marked the beginning of the end for Sid.
“Right. Okay,” he said. “I like how this is looking.”
“Me too,” Maggie said, locking her phone and slouching in her chair. “I feel better now. Didn’t want to spend the night at the police station.”
“You wouldn’t,” Luna assured her. “We’d bail you out.”
She snickered. “That’s good to—”
Jungkook suddenly jumped up in his chair, interrupting her.
“What about Sid’s bail?” he asked urgently. “Can he—could he pay for his release?”
Everyone at the table turned to you once more. When you and Minjun did your research yesterday, your focus had quickly turned from penalties to potential loopholes that Sid might use with his money, so you understood their sudden concern.
“No,” you said. “Apparently, it doesn’t work like that here. They would give him bail automatically; he wouldn’t have to pay. But they need to charge him with a specific offence first, and they won’t know the exact charges until they know what, uh, substances he was carrying on him and keeping in his hotel room—oh, and how much. Not to mention, bail may be denied if there is a risk that he’ll commit further crimes. And we know Sid is violent. He will not sit idly in his little cell.”
“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “We’re 95% sure he won’t be given bail.”
You nodded, grateful for his confidence.
“So, we definitely won’t be in London by the time they charge him,” Maggie concluded, frowning. She regretted not ordering whiskey instead of espresso; alcohol helped her think.
“Definitely not,” you confirmed. “Our plan concludes with Sid’s arrest, everything else is not our problem anymore. And we’re only participating in this as the staff of Rated Riot, so the only people who will have to speak to the police are those who will be present when they arrive at the venue tomorrow. So, ideally, only Luna, Mick, and me. That’s it. That’s as far as we’re getting involved.”
“Wait,” Jungkook said. He understood the need for Mick’s presence and felt comforted that you’d have someone from security with you, but now he was worried about your friend. “Why Luna?”
“We need an additional witness to observe Sid’s erratic behaviour,” Luna explained. “We thought it’d be better to have someone random, and not just your manager and head of security there.”
Jungkook kept his gaze on hers. “How do you know he’ll behave erratically?”
She gave him a look.
“Right.” He leaned back in his seat. “Good point. Okay.”
He already knew that the odds were good that Sid would try to provoke you tomorrow, but now he realised that even if Sid suddenly decided to be docile, it wouldn’t matter. The five of you were tight as a glove—Sid could sit in a corner, purring and meowing, and you would all collectively claim that he was threatening you.
Finally, Jungkook realised that he had narrowly escaped something dreadful, and he felt very grateful to find himself at this table, and not on the other side of this plan.
“I, uh—this isn’t a concern exactly,” you said after a minute. “But I have to say that a lot of this hinges on Sid trusting my word, and I’m—well, I’m not sure if he’ll care about anything I tell him.”
Minjun looked almost offended. He was the one who devised this strategy after you told him that you needed a way to quickly draw the attention of the authorities to Sid.
Why don’t you call him? Minjun had suggested. And invite him to meet you.
You had thought he’d decided to go insane right before talking to you. But you’d kept your suspicions to yourself because, ultimately, calling Sid seemed like the only option. It felt unfair, however, not to mention your doubts now.
“Actually, I agree,” Jungkook said, giving you a long look. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with any of that. You’ll have to be alone in a room with Sid. And we can’t be sure that he won’t—”
“Sid will care,” Minjun asserted, ignoring everything Jungkook had said. He kept his gaze on you, his certainty almost as intimidating as it was comforting. “Maybe not because he has feelings for you, but because you’re Jungkook’s girlfriend.”
Maggie looked up from her phone, surprised about the possibility of Sid having any feelings at all, and turned to Luna. The two of them finally exchanged the look that Luna had been waiting for.
“And you’re okay with doing this?” Jungkook asked you, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. He was careful not to miss any hint of dishonesty.
“I’m okay if this actually works,” you said. “If Sid shows up. If we get him arrested. I’m willing to try this if you’re all sure that we’ll succeed. And I wouldn’t be all by myself anyway.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about that part,” Maggie said to Jungkook, rolling up her sleeves for emphasis. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be at the scene tomorrow, but she felt she had a personal debt to settle with Sid, so she would find a way to interfere if she had to. “I can fight.”
Jungkook looked at her in a way that was more amused than it was skeptical—Maggie was very small in size, but very big in energy—and she tried to flex her arms to prove her point.
“I believe you,” he said, a smile breaking through his uncertainty. “I just don’t like that this will all be happening during our show. I won’t be there with you.”
“That’s just the plan,” you said. “We need to keep you away from him so that anything he says later won’t carry any weight. He’s obsessed with you and he has problems, and you’ve been distancing yourself from him for some time now. We’ll release an official statement about your, uh, separation once we’re done with him. And the leaked blacklist will back up our claims.”
A resigned acceptance clouded Jungkook’s features: he understood that this was the right decision, but he couldn’t help feeling unhappy about it. However, although he would have typically complained and whined about this—and you expected him to—now his posture was stoic.
You felt a little dispirited. You knew you wouldn’t joke around much today, but Jungkook’s unusually serious demeanour emphasised the gravity of the situation even more.
“Okay,” Minjun said. “Any other concerns?”
You shifted your gaze to him.
“Actually, I have another one,” you said. “I’m also worried about how this will affect your parents.”
The two girls beside you exchanged another glance—you hadn’t explained Minjun’s family’s dependence on Sid’s mother yet.
“If Sid’s in prison?” Minjun asked, unperturbed. “Well, their stocks will probably drop, so it will be weird to throw a party. I think we’ll celebrate quietly.”
You glanced at Jungkook, and he met your eye with an amused grin.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked Minjun then.
“Are you kidding?” Minjun looked optimistic and upbeat. He seemed ready to take on the world, and locking up Sid was just the first step. “We should have done this years ago.”
Maggie suddenly slammed her palm on the table, forcing everyone’s coffee cups to rattle against the plates.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” she exclaimed, and her excitement quickly spread to the rest of the table.
“I agree,” Luna added, much quieter. “But maybe it’s time we headed out. The people at the next table are whispering and, uh, pointing at Jungkook.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows and turned to you instead of looking around, his expression filled with a shocked wonder. He had only been recognised in public a handful of times since Rated Riot started out, and each instance had left an indelible mark on him.
You gave him a smile and a nod that spurred him out of his chair and towards the people at the neighbouring table, all of whom held their breaths when he stood up.
You glanced back at your friends—all smiling as they watched Jungkook introduce himself and singlehandedly cut off the air supply of four different people—and you thought about how wonderful it would have been if you had met Maggie and Luna earlier. If Jungkook and Minjun had stopped entertaining Sid’s whims sooner. If you and Jungkook had never broken up at all.
Perhaps, you thought, there was an alternative universe where you’d known and loved these people your whole life. You felt very close to that universe now.
Just as you finished your breakfast—where the five of you consumed one cup of coffee and half a slice of tiramisu in total—you executed the first step of your plan and sent a text message to Sid. It was innocuous, just a conversational, “are you ever going to stop doing this?” but it was meant to serve as a subtle precursor—so as not to approach him out of the blue tomorrow.
Then, as the five of you exited the restaurant, Maggie got enthralled by the most gracious little corgi sitting at a table, and dragged Luna and Minjun (who looked like he was not sure what was happening) back inside to ask for pictures. You and Jungkook opted for a scenic route back to the hotel instead.
Although the day was overcast, the sky did not look particularly ominous, offering instead an unexpected serenity that you thought you could use to clear your thoughts.
Interestingly, fresh air was not what you really needed at all. It was his hand holding yours as you strolled past extravagant hotels and expensive restaurants near Hyde Park, weaving through crowds of rushing tourists and cranky locals.
You felt significantly lighter with your hand in his, but Jungkook still appeared troubled. The shadows on his face were far more pronounced than those in the sky.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked.
He let out a weary sigh as he met your gaze. He seemed overwhelmed—as though his head was trying very hard to grow twice as large to contain all his thoughts, while the rest of his body fought desperately to resist the growth.
“I—well, I didn’t want to say this in front of everyone,” he started slowly, “but I’m worried about you.”
“Me?” You frowned. “Wh—because of Sid?”
“Because you’re doing all of this on top of your other responsibilities,” he said. “I don’t want you to burn out.”
Your expression visibly softened, but dark edges of guilt still coated the appreciation in your eyes. You felt disappointed in yourself—for letting it get so far that, over a week later, Jungkook still sometimes looked at you as though you might faint any second.
“That won’t happen,” you replied, your tone gentle, but determined. “I promise. And I’m not alone. I have so much help. And this won’t—it’s just a few days. We deal with it tomorrow, and it’s over.”
“Okay. But what if it’s not?” he questioned then. “We’re heading to Paris right after we, potentially, deal with Sid. And what if it doesn’t work, and we’re not here to fix it?”
You had to admit, this same possibility had been weighing on your mind ever since Jude first mentioned the bags of drugs in Sid’s hotel room. However, as soon as you saw Jungkook’s solemn features, you found yourself resisting all these worries. You would figure it out, no matter what happened, just so he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
You shrugged nonchalantly. “Then it won’t work.”
“He’ll be furious,” Jungkook said. “Even more vindictive than before.”
“I know,” you replied. “But no matter what he decides to do, we won’t back down, either.”
Jungkook frowned so deeply that several new wrinkles declared permanent residence between his brows. He dreaded the idea of spending a lifetime seeking revenge.
You sensed the reason for his apprehension—you wanted this over quickly, too—and instinctively squeezed his hand.
“I’m with you,” you said, reaching for your phone to check if Sid had reacted to your text. “And I told you, I’m not entirely convinced that this will work, either. I mean, here, look. Sid hasn’t replied. But if this plan falls through, we’ll come up with something else. Maybe something—well, less grand.”
He glanced at your phone, toying with his lip ring between his teeth. The prospect of failure felt more daunting with each second that Sid remained free to do whatever he pleased.
Jungkook didn’t want to do something else. He wanted this to work.
“Maybe he hasn’t replied because Jude deleted everything,” he suggested, searching for a plausible explanation that aligned with your plan. “Including the texts.”
“No, that’s tomorrow,” you reminded him. He groaned. “We need—Sid needs to notice my texts first. Then we delete them. I’ll use a disposable SIM card tomorrow, so there’s no trace that I ever contacted him.”
Jungkook felt like his head had already grown far too large for his body. He was a bit unsteady on his feet and clutched your hand tighter.
“Right,” he said. “Okay. That—yeah, no.” He lifted your intertwined hands to scratch something at his forehead. “My head is spinning. I can’t remember that much.”
You gave him a sympathetic nod. “That’s fine.”
“I’m not saying that I’d be too dumb to follow a plan like this,” he felt the need to insist.
“I didn’t think that.”
“I’m just saying,” he continued. “There’s a lot.”
You nodded in exaggerated agreement again. “Mhmm.”
His eagerness to prove his intelligence to you was very endearing. But it was a little funny, too, and Jungkook stopped walking to study your expression more closely. After a moment, he came to an appalling conclusion.
“You think I’m dumb,” he said.
A wide smile finally broke out on your face. “I think you’re very pretty.”
“Very pr—okay.” His expression shifted as you laughed, pulling on his hand to continue walking after an elderly couple gave you a rather well-deserved disapproving look for blocking their path. “Pretty and dumb. Is that your type?”
“It is,” you said, grinning. “That’s why you’re the only boyfriend I’ve had.”
He raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “Oh—wow. Wow. I am both very flattered and very offended.”
You chuckled, gently pushing his shoulder with yours. Jungkook shook his head and finally smiled, too. But right as he prepared to say something else, he ended up having to quickly yank your hand, pulling you into him and out of the way of an oncoming bicycle.
“Shit,” you were breathless against his chest as the bike drove past, your hair whipping forcefully in the wind, “thank you.”
“Pretty and dumb,” he said, allowing you to take a step away from him now that the danger has passed, “but with great reflexes, huh?”
You laughed again, leaning into him when you did and successfully dissolving everything sharp and uncomfortable in his chest.
“I know you’re not dumb,” you said. “And let’s be realistic: Minjun and I had been simmering in the details of this plan for days. You just barely learned about it a few hours ago. We’ve got this. I wanted you to know what we’ll do, but I don’t want you to be involved at all.”
“Yeah. I—no, I just…” he faltered, weighing his next words. The thought of everything that would happen tomorrow made his stomach feel very heavy. “I feel like you’re trying to protect me from Sid by keeping me out of this, and I’m—I don’t know how that makes me feel.”
“We’re not just keeping you out, we’re keeping the whole band out,” you said. “I want to protect all four of you. And if anything, you’re the only member who isn’t entirely excluded. Does that… make it any better?”
Jungkook considered this for a moment.
“Not sure,” he said. “Because I’m still not participating.”
Exhaling softly, you looked around, searching for a quiet spot on the pavement where the two of you could step away from the crowd. Nearby, there were two traditional phone booths that tourists were gathered around, obstructing your view. Once you passed them, you noticed a parking meter right by the park gate that everyone seemed to avoid. You decided to pause there.
Jungkook glanced around before stopping in front of you, slightly unsettled by the large, dark green hedge covering the park fence, and all the bugs that emerged from it—bees, mostly. They all seemed very curious about him.
“Okay, look at it this way,” you began. “Sid has known you and Minjun since you were kids. He knows all your weak points. He can predict exactly how you and Minjun will react in any situation. Sure, you took him off guard when you gave up your Katana, but he can still read you very well. He doesn’t have that luxury with me, Luna, or Maggie. He’s less certain about our reactions. Who else could do this if not us?”
“Right,” Jungkook murmured. “But you’re still going out of your way for me, and I feel—”
“And why wouldn’t I?” you interrupted. “I love you.”
He thought he died for just a second and it felt surprisingly nice: he could feel something soft and warm against his skin—the phantom shivers of every time you’ve touched him before—and he could taste a sweet, lingering flavour on his tongue—from every time he felt your mouth against his own.
He would never tire of hearing you say you loved him. The only downside was that his chest usually attempted to collapse in on itself right after that, leaving him speechless for anywhere from a minute to several days.
“Not to mention,” you continued while Jungkook fought against the haze in his mind and the bumblebees around his neck. “Sid has long stopped at just you. With the videos and pictures he’s sending you, he’s threatening everyone on this tour. Anything that affects your reputation, affects the band and the staff, too. So, when you look at it like that, we’re really doing this for everyone.”
Finally, Jungkook managed to stop his thoughts from pulling him in every direction and anchored himself to this pavement right here—with you, and the persistent bugs, and the chattering of people as they walked past you.
He squeezed your hand that he had not let go—not now, and probably not ever, really—and exhaled.
“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But I was the one who brought him here, and that’s—I guess that’s what’s bothering me right now.”
“You did bring him here,” you agreed.
“I—oh.” He looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. He had expected something else. An ‘I told you that was a shit decision’ or a sarcastic ‘yeah, and thanks for that’—but your kind expression did not change. “Y-yeah. I did.”
“But we’ll get him out,” you said.
Jungkook held your hand and observed you, trying to process this while simultaneously trying to figure out what was it about him that attracted these British bees to him so much. It couldn’t be his cologne, because you loved him far more than he’d allowed himself to believe. It couldn’t be his clothes, either, because you were looking at him like you believed anything was possible in this world, and he thought it really was.
He realised that to you, he must have appeared as if he were struggling to interpret prehistoric cave wall paintings, and this process was causing him immense pain. He cleared his throat.
“You don’t blame me?” he asked.
“For making a stupid decision?” you replied, and shrugged your shoulders after he nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
He pressed his lips together, his expression a mixture of incredulity and pure delight.
“Okay,” he said. “Sure.”
You were smiling again, and he was a little too proud to admit how much your loving eyes and your great mood soothed his anxiety.
“And what would I gain from punishing you?” you added. “You’ve already seen through Sid. You’ve had enough. You learned your lesson. You’re good.”
Jungkook felt his chest swell as though he’d swallowed the swarms of bees around him, and now they’ve built a cosy little home right on the hills of his heart.
“You think so?” he asked, his eyes glistening.
“Why do you look so excited?” you countered. “Do you have more dickhead friends I haven’t met yet?”
He chuckled, waving his hand around his face. “Can I answer that inside the park? I’m afraid these bees are in love with me.”
You had already noticed his struggle with the bees—it was hard not to, one was perched right on his shoulder—and you found your own apparent immunity to this new bee predicament especially entertaining.
“Want me to fight them for you?” you suggested.
“Oh, in a battle of who loves me more?” he quipped, swatting vigorously at three stubborn bees that were particularly intrigued in his eyes.
“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll all sting you at the same time, and whoever dies first, wins.”
He snorted. “These are bumblebees. They don’t die after they sting.”
“Oh, so maybe we should just stay here,” you teased. “You all seem to know quite a bit about each other already.”
He squinted at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you jealous I’ve grown so close to these bees?”
“Of course. They’re all over you.”
“I’d rather have you all over—”
“Public park!” you interjected hastily, cutting him off.
His laughter in response was unapologetic and infectious—you found yourself shaking your head to suppress a treacherous smile.
“Did you also research public indecency laws?” he asked, turning past the menacing, bee-infested hedge.
You followed him through the gates into the park, your fingers intertwined with his. The clouds above had thickened, and the wind had picked up, but there was nothing about this afternoon that Jungkook did not enjoy.
“Actually, I did,” you replied. “Because of that stunt you pulled in New York last year.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes for just a fleeting moment before he pursed his lips, distancing himself from the memory. A gentle breeze swept through the park, rustling leaves and carrying the scent of damp earth; it would rain soon.
“I don’t remember,” he declared.
“Really?” you responded wryly. You both knew very well that he remembered. “Nothing familiar to you about the busking that turned into half-naked dancing in the middle of the street?”
“Nope,” he said. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“There was a lot more grinding than actual dancing, now that I think about it,” you pressed on. You noticed, through your peripherals, the way he scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, evidently despising the memory he claimed he did not have. “Someone had drawn a crown of thorns on your forehead. You had a—sort of a cloth wrapped around your waist, and nothing else. Almost everyone on the face of the earth accused you of being in a sex cult after those pictures came out.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” he insisted. “They must have confused me with someone else.”
“Sure. They must have,” you relented, pouting your lips in mock-sympathy. “There are plenty of people in sex cults out there.”
“Exactly,” he replied, finally meeting your eyes.
Something about you bringing up this incident—“incidents” were a prominent category of his actions in his mind—reminded him of the videos Sid had sent him. However, with you, the feelings in his chest were vastly different.
You were playful. Lighthearted. Your love language was teasing the hell out of him.
Sid was venomous. Arrogant. Vile. His intentions were humiliation and destruction.
You were joking about a matter for which Jungkook undoubtedly owed you another apology. He could tell that you knew he would apologise eventually, but you were hoping—with every jest, every tender smile, every affectionate bite you sent his way—that he would not plunge himself into self-loathing again.
He wouldn’t. He had matured significantly since the day under discussion. He knew he had, even if it was easy to forget.
“I’m surprised how well you remember all that, actually,” he commented. “Are you secretly into sexual rituals?”
Your scoff returned his smile to his face.
“Oh, absolutely,” you said. “I keep a picture of you from that day on my desk at home. I look at it every night before I fall asleep.”
Jungkook kicked a few dry, scattered leaves on the pavement. When he glanced back at you, his grin bordered on ridiculous.
“I am aware that you’re trying to mock me right now,” he said, “but I feel obligated to inform you that I’m taking absolutely everything you say as a compliment.”
You nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
“Good,” he replied. “Please tell me more about how you look at pictures of me before you fall asleep every night.”
You tsked reproachfully at his grin.
“I take back what I said about you being smart,” you said. “You are the biggest idiot I’ve met.”
“Oh,” his face was jubilant, “but that just means you love me that much more, right?”
You let out a deep sigh. “I’m afraid so.”
He felt the swarms of bees in his chest, and they were buzzing incessantly—eager, restless, and yearning. They took every emotion he felt and spread them across his skin.
“I knew it,” he said, delighted by the look on your face. You were so captivating when you were trying to resist smiling; it was why he never stopped teasing you. “This must be awful for you.”
“Mmhm. It is,” you said. “You’re like a disease.”
He nodded, attempting a formal tone. “How bad is it?”
“Chronic and untreatable, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, thank you.”
A deep, vibrant laughter finally erupted from his chest, and he stopped walking. Tugging on your linked hands, he drew you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could say another word.
“I love you so much, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low against your neck. “It’s not even funny how much.”
He rocked gently on his feet with you in his arms, and you could not tell if the vibrations you felt came from his chest or yours.
“More than the bees love you?” you asked, your hands sliding over his shoulders.
“Much more than the bees love me.”
“Oh, must be quite a lot, then.”
“It is,” he said, chuckling hopelessly. “It really fucking is.”
He tightened his already firm grip until he felt your deep exhale against the side of his neck. He held you and his heartbeat chased after yours while the bustling crowds, the rustling leaves, and the solemn park benches whispered incomprehensibly around you, their frustration about your public affection lost on you.
When he pulled away a minute—or ten—later, he realised that his cologne had brushed off on you. There was something wildly intoxicating about you smelling exactly like him, and he needed a minute to make the park stop spinning.
“I, um—” he started to say, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat, took your hand in his to continue down the park, and tried again. “Jokes aside, I feel—I really appreciate what you do for me. What you’re doing to fix my shit right now, and what you—what you’ve always done to fix my shit. I don’t say that enough. Thank you. For taking care of Sid, too.”
You shook your head. You knew you couldn’t tackle Sid alone—probably no one could.
“This is a team effort,” you replied. “If this works, you can bake us all a cake later.”
Jungkook no longer had even half of a doubt that this would work, one way or the other. And if he’d stayed with you longer, he would have easily started to believe that Rated Riot would be elected presidents, too—one after the other.
“I’m not much of a baker,” he said.
“I’ll help,” you offered.
“Your help,” he responded, his smile turning mischievous, “usually consists of walking around, eating chocolate sprinkles, and distracting me.”
It was your turn to look offended.
“I’m the only one who remembers how many eggs the recipe needs,” you retorted, dignified. “How do I distract you?”
“How can I remember the eggs when you’re dancing and singing around me?” he countered.
He noticed the way your chin quivered as you fought to maintain a serious expression.
“Well, that’s on you,” you said. “Any skilled chef knows to keep their staff busy so they wouldn’t have time to sing and dance. Also, don’t play good songs when we’re in the kitchen.”
“Alright, we’ll bake in silence,” he decided. “And you’ll do everything while I sit and order you around.”
The corners of your lips finally curled into a smirk.
“That’s interesting,” you said, your thumb lightly brushing over his as he swayed your hands. “Switching up the dynamics.”
He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, very intrigued by the insinuation in your words. “You want me to order you around?”
“I mean…” You shrugged. “I’d like to see you try.”
He stopped walking suddenly, right in the midst of a group of senior ladies, forcing a few of them to gasp and walk around him with very exaggerated expressions of disbelief as though they’d never felt more wronged (there were a few obligatory comments about “kids these days,” too, of course).
Jungkook, undeterred, took a step to the right until he was standing in front of you.
“Kiss me,” he said.
The demand in his tone caught you off guard, but you tried to blink away your surprise. “I didn’t mean right now—”
“Kiss me,” he repeated more assertively.
You felt your stomach lighten and go for a little float inside you, like a loose helium-filled balloon.
“We are in the middle of a busy park,” you said, looking around. “We’re blocking—”
“Kiss me,” he interrupted again, his voice firm but lively, “or I won’t move.”
You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, torn between amusement and apprehension as you battled his self-assured grin, while passersby shot disapproving glances at the two of you.
“See, there’s ordering people around,” you said, “and there’s acting like a three-year-old.”
He simply shrugged, relentless. “I see no difference.”
“Do I sound like a toddler when I tell you to do things?”
“Sometimes.”
His satisfied grin only gained prominence when you scoffed and looked away, rolling your eyes.
You questioned, sometimes, how you managed to put up with him for so long. But then you also questioned, much more often, how you’d survived without him at all.
“If I were a teacher,” you said, “you’d be in detention for disrupting everyone’s day.”
“Oh! And what would I have to do?” he teased, mischief gleaming proudly in his eyes. “Write an essay on the importance of respecting authority?”
“That might do you good, actually,” you retorted. “Maybe you should consider writing it anyway.”
He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. “Kiss me and I’ll do it.”
He looked so utterly unfazed that you did feel very compelled to lay your hands on him and do something.
He might have been one of the most exasperating people you’ve met in your life, always ready to say something cheeky no matter what you told him, always causing trouble wherever he went, never letting you breathe in peace for just one second.
You were outrageously grateful to have found him.
“People are staring at us,” you said, but there was no conviction in your voice. “We look like idiots.”
Jungkook admired your cautiousness, but he wanted you to let go of it. People would always stare; he just wanted you to kiss him.
“They’re staring because you’re defying authority,” he countered easily.
“Jungkook, just—”
“Oh, see?” he cut in, his tone triumphant. “Maybe you should be the one to write that essay.”
You groaned very demonstratively, but he saw the corners of your lips lift. Finally, you took a small step towards him and pressed your lips to his in a quick peck. He pulled you into him just as you attempted to pull away, and kissed you properly.
At last, the crowds disappeared, allowing you to dissolve in the warmth of his lips and come back to life with all the shivers that ran down your spine when he touched the back of your neck. You felt his smile and felt your own, too, when he brought his tongue over yours, deepening the kiss.
“You are insufferable,” you managed to mumble between kisses, and the affection in your voice was impossible to mistake for something else.
“I love you,” he whispered in response, each word sweet and sugary against your lips.
You kissed him once more—to soothe your racing heart—and then once more again—to soothe his—before you pulled away, whispering back, “I love you.”
Jungkook only managed half of a pleased “I—” before he felt a few soft, cold droplets land on his forehead and both of his cheeks. He raised his head.
“Is it me, or is it—”
“Yeah,” you confirmed, looking up at the angry clouds. “It’s raining.”
“Do you—should we go inside?” he asked, looking around.
There was no specific “inside” anywhere close to the two of you, but you looked at him again and spotted something at the very edge of the park behind him, right across a busy bike lane.
“There’s a little gazebo over there,” you suggested, pointing.
Jungkook turned around and seemed to have an epiphany when he noticed the crooked structure.
“In the—in the park,” he mumbled to himself, feeling a little weak in the knees. He took your hand in his again. “Let’s go.”
He led you straight into the bicycle traffic as he crossed the road, causing a commotion and undoubtedly endangering everyone’s lives—and not even realising it in his eagerness to get to the gazebo. You attempted to raise your hand in apology to the cyclists, but quickly realised that the smile on your face likely made the gesture seem mocking.
It occurred to you that you and Jungkook were being very disruptive today, very annoying, very much in everyone’s faces about your relationship. And you realised, as he pulled you past the groups of people running from the rain, that you did not actually mind this all that much. Or at all.
There was a certain beauty in the unapologetic way that people in love behaved in public—grinning at their phones, kissing at bus stops, holding hands on narrow streets barely wide enough for one person. Running across the park in the rain and stumbling into every puddle possible.
When you and Jungkook finally reached the gazebo, you were both drenched and breathless. And you realised, belatedly, that it was not a suitable shelter at all: there were no railings or benches, the roof was not only crooked, but obviously decaying, and the rain splattered you if you got too close to the edge.
But you’d been here before: caught in the rain on your way to the restaurant for your first date seven years ago, seeking refuge under a much sturdier roof of a similar gazebo in an empty park, while the vividly green trees—almost a rarity so late in September—whispered wearily from the heavy rain on their leaves.
You’d been here before, and you did not want to go anywhere else.
“I’m starting to think,” you began, “that there’s something about us that attracts rain.”
Jungkook was thinking this very thought and laughed so heartily that the rain stopped for just a second, shamed into silence by a sound far more charming than the eager pitter-patter against the roof.
“You think we could make some money out of it?” he joked, his eyes energetic. “Maybe add a little performance to it? Rain dance?”
“We might have accidentally performed one already,” you said, stepping closer to the edge of the gazebo to watch the raindrops splash against the damp ground.
“You’re right,” he agreed, taking your hand in his and guiding you to face him. “Let me see.”
He brought your hand to his chest and you watched, puzzled, as he closed his eyes and pretended to concentrate very hard on the sounds around him. People across the street screeched as they ran from the rain. A stubborn gull was screeching in the exact same way somewhere overhead.
Jungkook clutched your hand tighter and hummed. He was joking, clearly putting up a show, but you heard the faint sound of distant thunder, and the joy on his face turned luminous.
“I knew it!” he exclaimed as you laughed, and the rain, encouraged by your approval, began to pour even harder.
You watched him revel in this delightful coincidence—or an elusive sign—and allowed his radiant smile to bring back the memories that you had locked away in a box you didn’t dare touch unless you were half-asleep.
It had been raining on your first date seven years ago, but it had also been raining when he suggested that date. You’d felt invincible then, the only one staying dry in the whole world, as you nearly sprinted home from the party where he’d asked you out. You stumbled over the threshold of your dorm room, your shoes wet and slippery, and landed on your knees, shouting the news to your roommate, who was startled out of bed by your loud entrance.
This was the beginning of the happiness you’d felt almost every day since then. But this happiness came with a price: you would come to class and you could not rest, could not find it in yourself to calm down, until Jungkook arrived and took his usual seat behind you. You wouldn’t even have to look, you’d always know he had come because you’d feel a sudden sense of peace—and then you’d lock eyes with him across the room.
For years after this, even today, when you tried to find a period of your life where you’d felt the happiest, these were the moments that your mind returned to.
“What are you thinking?” Jungkook asked, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek and bringing your focus back to the rainy moment with his touch.
“It—it’s been seven years and now we’re back in the rain,” you replied, distracted by the lingering echo of the years that have passed outside this gazebo. “Nothing’s changed.”
A faint smile danced on his lips.
“Yeah. Nothing important has,” he agreed. “I still love you.”
You met his gaze, a little thrown off. “W-what do you mean, still? That was our first date seven years ago.”
“Yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the confusion on your face. “Oh, did you think I asked you out right after I saw you? No, no. I spent a whole year absolutely fucking pining after you before I finally mustered the courage to ask you out.”
You assumed he might have liked you a little, based on the way he’d introduced himself to you. But you obviously didn’t know about his alleged year-long pining that preceded your first date. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe him, given your own year-long pining. It made little sense for the two of you to like each other for so long and not do anything about it.
On the other hand, considering the past few years, perhaps it made perfect sense.
Your heartbeat had sped up, so you argued childishly, “no, you didn’t.”
“I did. Ask anyone,” he said, grinning. He wasn’t as embarrassed about this as he used to be—and your surprise made it easier for him to admit everything. “I never knew how to love you quietly. But it still took me ages to talk to you even with everyone’s encouragement. And that, uh—our first conversation didn’t go very well.”
“Wait—what do you mean? It went very well,” you disagreed. “I remember everything you said word for word. ‘We have Sociology together, I saw you sleeping in class, very cute by the way, the professor does not know how to shut up, have you seen that new Studio Ghibli film, I recently watched their classic with some friends, My Neighbour Jungkook, I’m Totoro by the way, I thought maybe—wait—no—’”
He interrupted you once your smile had grown dangerously wide. “Don’t you dare make fun of me.”
“I would never!” you said through laughter. “I think I knew I was in it for life the moment you said all that.”
He had to look down because the bees inside him had multiplied, spreading rapidly to his head and his lungs and his stomach, and he was a little concerned that he’d start buzzing, too.
“Not one period, nothing,” you continued, a melancholic haze in your eyes. “Just commas and an endless stream of thought. You could have asked me to bury a body, I would have said yes.”
He smiled, but everything inside of him was turning upside down, returning to normal, then turning downside up.
Every time he remembered how he approached you seven years ago, he either felt a little uncomfortable or completely mortified. He’d never thought you’d remember that day so well and with such fondness.
“By the way,” you added when he did not speak, “you did look a little like you were about to confess to accidentally murdering my roommate when you started to speak.”
This finally made him chuckle, and he felt his skin thaw from the frozen state of amazement. He remembered hoping that you’d forget all about what he’d said that day. Now he realised he had never felt more thrilled that you remembered.
“I know,” he said. “I was shaking.”
“Yeah. I, um—” you trailed off, needing another minute. “I had a crush on you, too, actually. For a long while.”
His smile faded, replaced by a look of criminal disbelief. “You did not.”
You recognised your own suspicion in his words and smiled. However, unlike Jungkook, who owned up to his stressful pining and memorable first impression, you did not feel ready to confess to your silent sulking quite as easily.
“I did,” you said. “But you turned away every time I looked at you on campus, so I thought, oh, okay. That guy hates me for some reason. Nevermind.”
“I didn—I never—”
“I actually made a playlist before we met,” you added quickly before you could change your mind. “And I, uh, kept updating it throughout our relationship.”
You did not look at him when you said this, so you missed the befuddled look on his face.
“A pl—you made a playlist?” he repeated, his thoughts momentarily derailed. He couldn’t even hear the rain anymore. “And you never told me?”
“And I will continue to act like you don’t know about it,” you said.
He was too ecstatic to care. He hadn’t dared to imagine that he would have such a strong presence in your thoughts that you would create a playlist about him—for him? (he thought he might faint)—before you even met.
“No, b-but I’m supposed to be the one making grand gestures in our relationship, and you have a playlist about me? Ab-about us?” he questioned, almost frantic. “Is it—well, what songs are in it? About our relationship?”
You tried to put your words together, your slow, calculated breaths a stark contrast against his passionate energy. Another clap of thunder, unusually intense, rumbled in the sky.
“Sort of,” you finally answered. You thought that a playlist did not come anywhere close to everything he’d done and attempted to do for you, but you still struggled to articulate yourself. “Or songs that we both liked. Songs that we listened to together. Songs that we discovered on roadtrips—just, uh, stuff like that.”
He shook his head, every part of his skin itching with an unfathomable urge to hear these songs.
“You have to let me listen to it,” he stated.
“No,” you said, giving a determined shake of your head. “It’s enough that you know it exists.”
“I will absolutely never shut up about this,” he retorted, gesturing with his hands to emphasise his commitment to being annoying, “and I might end up telling more people.”
“I will kill you if I have to,” you warned.
“So I will haunt you, then,” he returned. “Is it on Spotify?”
You narrowed your eyes. “It’s private.”
“I am not above pulling a Sid and stealing your phone,” he said, resolute.
You snorted despite yourself.
“Okay. Fine,” you said. “Maybe I’ll give you the link after.”
Jungkook waited for further clarification, but you decided you’d said enough.
He was confused. He no longer had any clear delineations of time in his life—ever since he found you again, his whole life had shifted to “after.”
“After—after Sid?” he asked.
“After everything,” you replied, unintentionally ominous as your gaze wandered to the fragmented reflections of the clouds on the rain-soaked pavement. “After we leave London. After we deal with the label. After it stops fucking raining every time we go out together.”
Jungkook thought he could already see these things: the Parisian streets after you’ve left Sid in London, the peace after you’ve told the label about your relationship, the sun in the sky after the rain lost its courage to threaten you again.
“Okay,” he relented, his features softening. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “I know you will.”
He hummed, stepping on a loose floorboard with the edge of his boot.
“Now, then,” he said, “tell me about this crush you supposedly had on me.”
“It was a crush,” you insisted, your voice growing more fervent right away.
Jungkook smiled but tried to remain collected. He had decided it was better for his sanity not to believe you.
“I liked you ever since I saw you at that first freshman party,” you continued and he realised that he was absolutely, without a doubt not collected at all. “I spent that entire night scrolling through the list of people invited to this event on Facebook until I found your profile. But I didn’t dare to send you a friend request, because—well, you know. We hadn’t talked or anything. I thought maybe you’re not interested.”
He thought his heart might stop because this freshman event was where he first saw you—and for every waking and sleeping moment since then, he had been interested.
“I noticed you around campus after that,” you continued. “And I would have talked to you first, I think. If you hadn’t looked like you dreamed of my violent death every time you met my eye.”
He groaned, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his palms.
“Well, obviously, I liked you too much to look at you and not glare,” he said, even though none of that was obvious. “I actually thought I developed some sort of an allergy right when I first saw you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “An allergy?”
“Yeah. Shortness of breath, just feeling hot all over, sweating profusely,” he elaborated, moving his hands away from his face to reveal his faint, nostalgic smile. “That had never happened to me before. It was either the dust in the room or you. And there wasn’t a lot of dust.”
You pursed your lips before your cheeks could stretch any further.
“I don’t know,” you teased, “they don’t clean the building that well.”
“It was you,” he stated firmly. “Got my breath catching in my throat. Gave me butterflies, made my heart race—made me feel all the things that people write embarrassing bubblegum pop songs about.”
You looked down to collect yourself before all the signals that your heart was sending to your brain could reflect on your face.
“Catchy songs, though,” you murmured.
“Catchy, sure,” he agreed, his tone wistful. “Until all those things they sing about happen to you, and you feel like you’re drowning.”
You felt a little like you might drown just now as your heart pounded in your chest, angry at you for another wasted year.
“I’m really happy we finally ended up together,” he said. “Seven years ago, and today.”
You finally looked up at him and remembered all the times when you used to worry that you had already lived through your happiest moments, and any little joy you’d come across later would pale in comparison. You knew better now.
Jungkook was your happiest moment, and he was right here. He’d always been right here.
“I love you,” you said, a little suffocated by the overwhelming warmth in your chest. “I’ve loved you every day for all these years.”
He was smiling so widely that his lip ring dug into his stretched lips. He reached out to caress your cheek, resting his palm on the side of your face for a moment, his eyes bright and glittering.
He kissed you slowly, his bottom lip lingering between your lips while the rain washed the noise of the city away. He tasted love and longing on your tongue, and he had never in his life wished for the sunshine to stay away longer.
The rain listened. It had become a fundamental part of your present and a prophet of your future: the two of you were going to spend the rest of your lives listening to the rain and falling in love.
Since Rated Riot had a day off and the other members let you know where they were by bickering continuously in the groupchat, you and Jungkook locked yourselves in his hotel room when you returned.
You changed into dry clothes first, and then noticed that Sid still hadn’t replied to your text. In case he really hadn’t received it, you sent another one—with just question marks—hoping that he’d interpret your repeated messages as a sign of your desperation to talk to him.
You put your phone away and climbed back into bed. The sun had already set outside the window, casting faint, elongated shadows around you in the room. You and Jungkook listened to the music playing on his phone and returned to the snacks he had bought for your film night a few days earlier.
As the song switched to the latest Bad Omens collaboration, you closed your eyes to nod along, and he reached over to snatch a chocolate-covered cherry bonbon from you, causing a spark of static electricity to pass between you.
“Sorry,” he said, chuckling after he heard you gasp. “It’s from the bees, I think. They must have somehow electrified me.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely something that bees can do,” you played along, sitting up on the bed and unwrapping another candy for him. “Maybe you should take an ice bath to avoid these after-effects.”
He accepted the candy with a grin. “No. I like shocking you when I touch you.”
To be fair, he didn’t need bees or electricity for that—but you decided not to point that out.
You realised how much peace you felt here: listening to music and eating sweets with him across the bed from you. You didn’t think there was anything you still needed in life. Watching him close his eyes as the chocolate melted on his tongue, and hearing him hum with childlike delight as he swallowed, filled an emptiness inside of you that nothing—no trips abroad, no late-night drinks, no shopping sessions—could have filled.
This random moment in his hotel room was nothing at all, yet it was everything.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed, startling you both.
“Sid?” Jungkook asked eagerly, letting the remaining chocolate melt slowly on his fingers while you reached for your phone.
“No,” you replied, checking the screen. “It’s Maggie. She just posted the backstage pictures with our list.”
His expression tightened. “Oh.”
“There’s nothing from Sid,” you added.
Jungkook finally popped the rest of the candy into his mouth. He decided—quite abruptly—that he’s had enough discussions about Sid and everything you’ve been through because of him.
“You know what we should do?” he asked, licking the remnants of the chocolate off his fingers. “We should go to the sea after the tour ends.”
“Oh—we—yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. You thought it was very unfair of him to ask you this while running his tongue over his fingers all in the same breath. “We—but we don’t know when that’ll be.”
“Whenever,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s go.”
It took you half of a second to say “okay,” and he didn’t think he’d ever learn how to stop his heart from soaring every time your agreement came so quickly, so easily.
To be honest, you didn’t know why he even asked. It was fairly clear that there weren’t many instances where you would have refused him.
However, your response still painted his features with every warm hue in existence, and he settled back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and closing his eyes. As you watched him, you were forced to acknowledge one more time that witnessing him like this should have required an admission ticket—and a sign reading, “do not touch the exhibit.”
“I feel like I have everything,” he said, unknowingly echoing every sentiment you felt. “I don’t even care if Sid replies to you and if our plan works.”
You leaned against the pillows on the other side of the bed and turned to your side to face him. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm,” he replied, a melodious hum in his tone. He opened his eyes to meet yours and placed his hand on the pillow beneath his head. “We’re—you’re here with me. The tour is going well, it’s—that’s it. That’s my whole dream.”
He looked beautiful in an almost devastating way. He looked like every extravagant adjective that sounded made-up when you encountered it in writing for the first time: transfixing. Beguiling. Effulgent. Pulchritudinous.
You really wanted to touch the exhibit.
“Do you know how we formed Rated Riot?” he asked suddenly, distracting you.
You raised your eyebrows, then turned your gaze away. Jungkook realised you probably didn’t understand where his question had come from, but you didn’t ask him anything, so he did not explain.
Truthfully, you did not know the complete story behind how Rated Riot got together. You only knew what each of the boys was doing when they first met.
“I don’t know much,” you admitted. “I know that Hoseok kicked things off.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, then stopped. “Or maybe Namjoon, actually? Because Namjoon saw Hoseok at some gig that he went to. When he asked about his band, Hoseok gave him, like, fifteen business cards. But even though he filled in for all these bands, it was still only maybe one gig per week. That’s nothing. So, Namjoon told him he’s too talented for that shit. He said he needed his own band.”
You recalled Yoongi mentioning that Namjoon was the first producer that Rated Riot have worked with, but you hadn’t realised this was before the band was even formed.
Suddenly, the broken air conditioner in the room whirred back to life, interrupting your thoughts.
“S-so, they started talking,” Jungkook said, momentarily distracted by the loud noise. “Hoseok wanted to be independent, and Namjoon didn’t push him to sign with Jett Records back then. He helped him. Unofficially, I guess. They found Taehyung very randomly at this one after-party for somebody at our label—well, our future label. Namjoon took Hoseok there to network, and Taehyung just happened to be there. No one knows why, but you know Taehyung. He’s always going to be right where he needs to be.”
“Yeah,” you said, nodding knowingly. Taehyung always seemed to find his way to the people and places meant for him.
“Yeah, so he was at that party,” Jungkook continued, “and he overheard Namjoon and Hoseok discussing the plan for Hoseok’s band. They were saying that they needed a bassist first. And Taehyung just chimed in like, “I play bass.” Just out of the blue. Namjoon asked him who he was, and he introduced himself. Namjoon then asked what he was doing here, and Taehyung said, “I’ll tell you if you let me join the band”—which he never did, by the way. We still don’t know what he was doing at that party.”
You chuckled softly. Knowing Taehyung, nothing in this story surprised you, but you were still impressed by how quickly his energy captivated Hoseok and Namjoon.
“So, they let him join?” you asked.
“Namjoon claims he auditioned for them first,” Jungkook said, clicking his lips questioningly. “But one time when Hoseok was very drunk, he admitted that he’d felt desperate. Namjoon was busy and couldn’t help him much, so Hoseok had to figure things out on his own. He said he called and invited Taehyung to join right away. He thought they could find a proper bassist later, and Taehyung could fill the spot for the time being. Funny.”
“Oh,” you said. “Because he hadn’t heard him play yet?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He hadn’t seen Taehyung even holding a bass before. So, he had doubts. I guess I get that. Anyway. He invited Namjoon to their first rehearsal and Taehyung blew Namjoon the fuck away. That’s it. Hoseok said that after that, he was worried Namjoon would sign Taehyung and leave him behind. Not that Namjoon would do that, but uh—yeah. Taehyung was that good.”
“They’re both that good,” you said. “Hoseok never acknowledges his own talent.”
“Right?” he nodded eagerly, turning to his side to look at you. There was a warm smile on your lips that Jungkook really enjoyed. “They’re both amazing.”
“So, how do you come into the picture?” you asked.
He took a breath before answering.
“I saw Hoseok and Taehyung playing at this dive bar that Sid dragged me to,” he said.
Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “No shit?”
“Yeah,” he said, running his tongue over his lips. “He said I was annoying and mopey, so he kept taking me to a new place every night. There were hardly any people at this bar that night. Taehyung was singing, but he sang, like, one verse, and then they launched into the longest instrumental break I’ve ever fucking heard. And it was incredible. Shit, I—I’m more into vocal music. But seeing Hoseok and Taehyung play together—there was another guitarist with them, actually, I don’t even know who it was—anyway. It made me realise how powerful instrumental music can be on its own.”
A dreamy fog had descended upon his face, and only now did you realise that the air conditioner had stopped working again, seemingly calling it a day. You appreciated the silence and the way Jungkook looked when he played back the memories in his head, his eyes shimmering with the bright lights and the sounds of the bar that night.
“I didn’t know that Sid met the other members before you joined the band,” you said.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “He also said he could be a better bassist than ‘that guy.’”
“He—of course,” you groaned. “Wait until Luna hears this. She’ll take care of Sid for us on Taehyung’s behalf, I think.”
He nodded, snickering. “I bet. But Sid actually left the bar before they finished their set. I stayed back. After they wrapped up, I went up to Hoseok at the bar and told him how much I enjoyed their performance. Told him I was thinking of picking up drums—”
He paused abruptly, noticing your surprise before you remembered him mentioning this to you.
“Oh, was this when you and Sid were planning to start your own band?” you asked. You had assumed they were joking.
“Yeah,” he replied, snickering. He had been joking, but he still found drummers to be effortlessly cool. “So, Hoseok delivered the longest fucking speech about what his job was like. Don’t ask him about it, by the way, or you’ll have to sit through three hours of him making drum sounds. But anyway, I was pretty drunk by then, and I don’t know, I guess I hummed along to some song that was playing or something.”
You nodded. Jungkook was almost always humming something.
“Then Hoseok said they needed a vocalist for their band,” he continued, “because Taehyung didn’t want to do it. And he noticed me humming, so he jokingly asked if I happened to sing. I said sometimes, nothing serious. Everybody sings sometimes. He told me to sing something for him. I told him to get fucked, we’re in a bar.” Jungkook had to pause here to let you finish laughing. “And Hoseok just shrugged, like, “no one’s at the mic, why not?””
“That did it for you?” you asked.
He nodded. “That fucking did it for me.”
You laughed again, knowing that he would never shy away from anything that resembled a challenge.
“What did you sing?” you asked.
Jungkook gave you a look. There was only one song that always lingered at the back of his mind. You could have guessed it, really, but you were a little frightened about its significance in this context.
“You—you sang Biffy Clyro?” Your throat was dry all of a sudden and useless questions continued to pour out of your dumbfounded chest. “At that bar? In front of Hoseok? “M-Many of Horror?””
“Of course,” Jungkook said, as if there had never been any other song he could have chosen to perform that night, besides the one that followed you and him throughout your relationship. “It—it really fucked with me, though. We had just broken up maybe a month ago, so it was still fresh, you know? And this was my first time singing “Many of Horror” in public, on top of that. And I was—I didn’t do well. I think I missed half the lyrics in the last chorus because it was too much.”
He snickered lightly, trying to lessen the impact of his words. You felt frozen.
“I-I was standing there,” he continued, and you could almost see it, “hiccuping to the I still believe, it’s you and me ‘til the end of time, while Hoseok just watched me, expressionless. And then I drank half the bar right after I got off stage.”
He sang the two lines of the song as he shared the story, his voice quiet and tender, and you thought you must have resembled Hoseok right now—so lost in all the emotions brewing inside you that you did not immediately realise he had stopped speaking, and it might have been appropriate for you to reply.
“Y-you still sounded great, though,” you managed. “Obviously.”
“Yeah, maybe four people clapped. Out of the ten or so at the bar,” he said, chuckling. “Hoseok told me he had to make a call, told me to stay right where I was, and then he disappeared. He returned twenty minutes later with some dishevelled guy in a turtleneck with a little hole in the collar.”
You recognised the description. “Namjoon?”
“Namjoon,” Jungkook confirmed, the smile on his face matching the one hesitantly spreading on yours. “I was fucking wasted. They were saying I had to meet with them for rehearsals, they wanted to see how I’d sound with them. And I’m—I couldn’t fucking think straight. They were telling me they wanted me to join the band, and all I could think about was that you weren’t here.”
The excitement in your eyes quickly turned into pain as a sharp twinge of longing pierced through your chest. It cut into every open crevice of your heart, reminding you of the way it had bled in those first few months after you broke up—even on this particular day, while Jungkook was struggling to get himself together in the face of his future, and you were likely at home, tossing and turning in your bed because you did not know what to do with yourself.
“I wanted to tell you so badly,” Jungkook admitted, his eyes fixed on the bedsheets, his voice filled with incorrigible regret. “But we weren’t talking anymore. I thought—there was this one moment where I thought, well, what’s the point? What’s the use of joining this band if I can’t even tell you about it? A-and they weren’t even a full group when I met them anyway. It took about two more weeks for Yoongi to join.”
You made a conscious effort to swallow the lump in your throat, and shifted your focus to Yoongi to allow for the sudden ache in your chest to subside.
“Yeah, uh—Yoongi mentioned that he was the last to join,” you commented, hoping to steer the conversation back to a less emotionally charged topic. “He used to play for a different band before, right?”
“Yeah. Somnia,” Jungkook said. The name did not sound familiar to you. “They weren’t—um, going anywhere. That’s a very blunt way to put it, but they were just stuck. And Yoongi and Namjoon go way back. So, Namjoon called him one day and lied that he was producing for this new, promising band in need of a permanent guitarist. Said they had a solid rhythm section, but their artistic direction needed some refinement.”
“And, uh,” your voice was a little lighter, “I assume they had a great vocalist, too?”
Jungkook smiled. “They did, yeah. I was trying to be modest, but you brought it up.”
You snickered, offering a nonchalant shrug. “Just trying to help you out.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “Yeah. So, Yoongi was the last one to join. He’d—he has a lot more creative freedom with us than he had with Somnia, which still isn’t a lot. But it’s something. And I think that was the main reason why he left them.”
“And they were okay with him leaving?” you asked.
Jungkook turned on his back and sighed.
“I assume they weren’t,” he said, briefly glancing at the ceiling before turning to look at you. “That’s why he doesn’t talk much about it.”
“Ah.” You nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah, but anyway, Yoongi joined and we were complete,” Jungkook continued. “We released “Haunting” independently. That—okay, that was in June. Some time after that, this radio DJ that Yoongi knew played our song on his radio show as a birthday gift to Yoongi. Namjoon and Christian Jett—”
“CJ, apparently,” you cut in.
“Right. CJ,” he repeated. “They heard the song at some event. Apparently, CJ loved it, so Namjoon told him about us. When CJ found out we weren’t signed to a label, he reached out to us. It took Taehyung and me three days to convince Yoongi and Hoseok to go to that meeting. They both had some shitty experiences with record labels in the past. But we persuaded them to at least show up. CJ had us perform “Haunting” and “Cursed” for him, the only songs we had released at the time, and he signed us on the spot. Well, after Yoongi finished negotiating with him about our contracts.”
Your heart started to race as if you had just realised how much the universe had to align, how many intricate coincidences had to happen to lead Jungkook to his band, and to bring the two of you to this moment in his hotel room.
“We started working on our album,” he went on, “and about four months later—in July, right?—the record started to finally come together. That’s when CJ started to look for a manager for us.”
You took a breath and finished for him, “and reached out to me.”
“Yeah,” he said. “All CJ told us was that he found someone. He mentioned that this person was already working under the label and that the band they managed had recently broken up.”
You did not interrupt the silence that followed, because you thought that Jungkook had paused for a few seconds. But he stopped speaking altogether, waiting for you to share your perspective.
“I-I was, uh, Nick’s assistant at the time,” you said, realising what the silence was for. “We were working with The Jungle Will Get You.” You turned to Jungkook and he shook his head. “Yeah, they were—they weren’t popular. And the members weren’t really motivated, especially towards the end. They split up, eventually. Nick moved on to manage Reconnaissance, and I took on administrative tasks for various bands under the label. It was only for a few months, but I thought I’d end up buried in endless piles of papers. So, when HR called me in to tell me about Rated Riot, I pretended to know exactly who you were to get that job.”
He was smiling next to you on the bed, lost in the memories that did not hurt anymore now that he shared them with you.
“I doubt even HR knew who we were,” he said, gazing up at the ceiling and clasping his hands on his stomach. “I’m just—I’m constantly—I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that it was you that they chose for us. I mean, you’re amazing, you could have worked with any band out there. But they picked you for us.”
You grappled with the same impossible coincidence.
“I’m thinking about that, too,” you said. “You had so much potential and CJ... I wasn’t sure if he even saw it when he reached out to me. Not to mention, you and I were—we were broken up for two years at that point?”
“A year and seven months,” Jungkook replied.
“Right,” you said, slightly out of breath from the precision of his answer.
He turned to face you. “Did you ever consider turning down that offer to work with us after you found out I’m in the band?”
You exhaled what little oxygen you had left in your lungs. You’d considered many things when you saw him again that day, and you realised now that you still hadn’t fully grasped all the thoughts that had passed through your mind at the time.
“For maybe half a second,” you said. “I was very confident that we could move on from our relationship.”
He grinned. “Look how well that worked out for us.”
“Mhmm, right?” you agreed, meeting his gaze. “So professional.”
He chuckled, intoxicated by your proximity and the peace he found in the knowledge that the universe had put in a good effort to lead you two here.
“I know that—well, it seems like everything just fell into place to get all of you together for Rated Riot,” you said. “But it wasn’t that easy for you guys, was it?”
“Yeah, no, it definitely wasn’t,” he agreed. “After Yoongi joined, we struggled to write one fucking original song for months. We thought the band was going nowhere.”
You could see the sadness in his eyes. “It was that bad?”
“Yeah. Everything we tried to work on was shit,” he said. “We were getting drunk every night, trying to find something that could work as our first song. And nothing worked.”
“So, what happened?” you asked.
“You,” he answered simply.
Your brows creased. “How—what do you mean?”
“Namjoon pushed us to release something authentic for our debut single,” he began. “And the other guys decided to kick my ass and force me to work. They knew I was writing something, but it—it wasn’t anything serious. Not like what they write. You know I can’t just create shit on the spot. My lyrics have to be about something that I’ve been through. And you’re—you are every single meaningful experience that I have had in my life. The guys—they wanted to use that. So, you’re sort of the main reason why Rated Riot are where they are”
You exhaled slowly, your mind filled with thoughts just like it had been the first time you walked into Rated Riot’s meeting room and saw Jungkook there—looking only slightly different from the music video Luna had shown you before, and remarkably different from your memories.
“And that—this is why I brought this up now,” he said. “It’s all because of you. We broke up, and Sid dragged me to that bar to help me get over you. I sang our song to Hoseok, and he brought Namjoon to convince me to join the band. I wrote “Haunting” about you, and CJ heard it and decided to sign us. We put out several albums, filled with songs I’ve ever written for you, and now we’re on this tour. If it weren’t for you, I just—w-we wouldn’t be here.”
You felt your skin prickle, the sensation quickly turning to a painful sting, and you looked away. Frankly, you did not believe that your influence was this significant—not even after Jungkook had told you that it was. These events seemed like an unbelievable sequence of coincidences that he decided to treat as signs, and you found that you couldn’t breathe if you looked at them as signs, too.
You felt his eyes on you and only meant to glance at him very briefly, but he held your gaze for a few moments longer, watching as a shuddering breath passed your lips. Then he propped himself up on his elbows.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he declared, the look in his eyes so final, so determined that you were almost afraid to move when you met his gaze. “And then I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if Sid texts.”
Your voice was very small. “I don’t care, either.”
“Fuck,” was more of an echo than a real whisper as his lips finally collided with yours. The kiss was deep and vehement and full of everything that had built up inside you over this day alone.
But then his tongue met yours and you realised that this day wasn’t all that special. You could have kissed him at any point of any day, and you would have still felt overwhelmed and aching, and you would have needed him right at the tips of your fingers as much as ever.
He tasted like the chocolate-covered cherry bonbons that he’d bought you because they reminded him of the summer nights you’d spent together. He tasted like the sticky homemade candy that the two of you baked when there were no other sweets in your dorm room and you craved something, but refused to leave, refused to pull away. Like the moments on the balcony of his house after you snuck away from his cousins. Like the rainy walks to class when your hair would be sticking to your face, but you couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at each other.
All the thoughts that had been screaming at you for the past fifteen minutes suddenly quieted down as he leaned closer until he was hovering over you, one of his hands on the side of your face.
He felt shivers on the back of his neck when your tentative fingers found their way to his hair. He exhaled softly against your mouth and stilled momentarily when he heard your quiet whimper in response to his kiss, to his breathing, to him.
The room suddenly spun completely out of control around him.
He needed you so much and for such a long time that every time you were with him, every time you kissed him, he worried that he was dreaming again. So he kissed you harder, held onto you tighter—not wanting to find out if he was asleep, not wanting to wake up.
He unbuttoned your denim jacket without pulling away and slid it off your arms, holding the side of your neck with one of his hands. His kiss was so deep, so riveting that you felt your lungs give up, felt them pack up and leave, forcing you to breathe him instead.
His hands caressed your shoulders, finding the straps of your shirt and sliding them down your arms—and then stopping abruptly when he realised that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
Exhaling shakily, he pulled back—lightheaded and winded and completely obsessed with you—just to look at you for a minute. There was a playful grin on his lips when he kissed you again.
You pulled away enough to ask, “what?”
“Nothing,” he murmured in-between kisses, “you’re fucking perfect. But I want this off.”
He pulled you closer and you instinctively bucked your hips off the bed, causing a momentary hitch in his breath. He lifted the hem of your shirt, pulling the material up and tracing the invisible symbols on your skin along your ribs, your chest, and your arms. Tossing your shirt aside without looking, he leaned back in, yearning for the feel of your lips on his again and accepting that he could not last one minute without you. Perhaps not even one second.
He felt your hand on his chest, trailing down to the edge of his black t-shirt and distracting him from the kiss with the softness of your touch. You lifted his shirt up to his chest—as far as it would go without breaking the kiss—and felt him hiss at the cold sensation of your bare fingertips on his stomach.
“I’m sorr—” you began, but the second you pulled away to apologise, he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss.
“No.” His whispers were frenzied against your lips. You could have electrocuted him with your touch, sliced him into pieces with your fingers, and he would have thanked you for it. “No. You—d-don’t apologise. You’re perfect.”
He heard the way you cursed under your breath—under his breath, too—and he found it hard to inhale against the pressure in his stomach, against the tightness in his jeans. He was humming with near desperation when you pulled him closer, running your hands over his arms, your touch gentle enough to truly kill him.
He was frantic, eager to touch you, to feel your arms, your thighs, your chest, your neck—all of you—before someone interrupted you. Before his time with you ended. He knew he had the rest of his life to spend with you, but now he worried it still wouldn’t be enough.
His tongue moved over yours, his kiss deep, rushing, dizzying. He did not need to look to find the button on your pants, unclasp it, and slide the rough material down your thighs, swallowing a moan when he felt you shivering under his touch.
He quickly pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside before kissing you again, high on the sound of your lips smacking against each other. He shuddered when your hands unexpectedly met his on the belt of his jeans.
“Let me do it,” you asked in a whisper—but he was wholeheartedly yours at that moment, and you didn’t even have to ask.
“Okay,” he complied, allowing you to gently push him back onto the bed.
Closing his eyes, he savoured the newfound sweetness from your kiss on his tongue. He felt you shuffle closer to him on the bed and had to take a sharp breath when one of your hands slid down his abdomen to his jeans.
You leaned over to kiss him again, and he broke—only capable of lying idly for so long—reaching for you and caressing your shoulders and your arms. He made it almost impossible for you to keep doing what you were doing; unruly wildfires blazed everywhere he touched you.
Jungkook was determined not to break the kiss even as you undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. He thought he did well. But then he lifted his hips off the bed to help you pull his jeans off and you brushed your fingers over the bulge in his boxers—your touch featherlight against the material—and he was very nearly finished.
He whimpered lightly into the kiss, his breaths growing heavier, his hands growing greedier. You made sure to hold one of his hands in yours to prevent him from flipping you over on the bed, and he responded to that by cheating: he held onto you tighter and attempted to pull you closer every time he gently bit your bottom lip and you got distracted by the pleasant sting.
Finally, you managed to slide his boxers down his thighs, catching each of his heavy breaths on your tongue. You pulled back, and he was about to protest until he saw you throw one of your legs over his, straddling his hips.
He watched you slide your panties down your legs while hovering over his thighs and he wasn’t sure how long ago he’d stopped blinking. Mesmerised by the sight, he didn’t immediately rush to assist you in maintaining your balance as you lifted one knee off the bed.
Once he recovered enough to remember to inhale, he sat up and pulled you flush to his chest. You gasped in surprise when he hooked his fingers behind the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs faster.
“I said let me do it,” you reminded him with a pout, and he kissed you instead of replying, too impatient to wait.
Your hands slipped down his chest and your hips bucked into his just barely, but he exhaled deeply, breaking the kiss. You used the moment while he was dazed to push him back into the pillows.
He fell back on the bed, knowing very well that he’d been in this position before—with you on top of him, your fingers tracing over his length before finally wrapping around the base—but he still shivered, throwing his head back into the pillows. He still kept his eyes fixed on your face when you started to move your hand in gentle strokes, killing him a little more with each movement of your wrist.
“Fuck,” he sighed. “At least let—l-let me touch you.”
He phrased it like a request, but he did not mean it like one. You didn’t resist when he reached for you, his hands travelling over your thighs, lingering on your lower back, squeezing your ass, and pulling your hips into his.
One of your hands had come to rest on his chest for support while you continued to stroke his length in deliberately slow, languid motions. You could feel him getting harder under your touch, and you closed your eyes, your teeth sinking into your lip.
He could not look away from you. He wanted to be the one to bite your lips, but he couldn’t move close enough to you with your hands on him. He settled for exploring the skin on your hips, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Soon, you felt the tips of his fingers brush lightly over your stomach and then descend lower to slip between your folds.
He exhaled deeply through his mouth when he felt how wet you were, and that was enough for him—he would have found a way to hold you tightly against his chest even if you were across the world from him.
In a flash, he was sitting up, connecting your lips again and bringing his tongue over yours while he gathered the wetness between your folds with his thumb. Your grip on his length tightened instinctively, and Jungkook groaned, automatically applying more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves on your clit—just enough to have you arch your back into him.
He felt you move faster, squeezing the base and speeding up until your fingers brushed over his tip. Trying to fight back a moan, he reflexively bucked his hips into your hand while two of his fingers teased your entrance, sliding over your wet folds in a teasing, tickling motion. You broke the kiss, sighing and dropping your head on his shoulder.
He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath—you didn’t give him any of that, so he thought this was only fair—as he kissed along your jaw, gently sucking on a spot on the nape of your neck. His fingers continued stimulating your clit with a combination of light, fast circles and harder, slower strokes that he knew would make you break for him.
“F-fuck, wait,” you exhaled, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. “I w-want you.”
“You have me, my love,” he whispered back, running his tongue over the faint mark he’d left on the sensitive skin of your neck and humming, his tone gravelly and rasp, when you hissed at the feeling. “All of me.”
You gripped his wrist tighter. “Lie back.”
He didn’t immediately obey, opting to use his only free hand—the one you couldn’t hold, because you needed both hands to stop his determined fingers from drawing you any closer to the edge—to squeeze your ass and pull your hips over his length instead.
“Lie back,” you ordered again, your words firm, but breathless. It started a raging flame in his lower stomach, but he still resisted a little more—kissing you again, sucking on your tongue, sliding his hands over your thighs, and nearly making you lose it before he finally leaned back against the pile of pillows.
Jungkook still thought he was doing fairly well, considering the burning on his skin and inside him, but watching you unwrap a condom package and slide the latex down his length—torturously slowly, it seemed to him, to really test his limits—he thought he might lose it, after all.
You felt him jerk slightly in your hand, sensitive as you rolled the condom down his length, and your deep exhale blended with his sharp inhale. He locked the sound of your breathing somewhere deep in his mind, too focused on your touch to revel in it right now, but far too inspired by the response your body had to his to forget it altogether.
He bit his lip, his eyes locked on yours as you positioned yourself over his length. He was convinced that you were teasing him on purpose when you brought his tip closer to your entrance and then paused. He could already feel the wetness of your folds on him, and the second he lifted his hands to touch you, he was forced to let them drop in utter defeat when you finally slid his tip in.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight, warm walls as you struggled to take all of him in at once, and stopped, most cruelly, halfway in.
You looked breathtaking on top of him and there wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind, so he couldn’t offer to help you anymore, couldn’t even guide you down on his length. He could barely stay still, biting his lip and clutching the sheets so he wouldn’t ram his hips into yours.
“You’ll kill me,” he whispered in a strained voice when you lifted your hips again, sliding his length over your folds, but not slipping it back inside.
Finally, you lowered yourself on him again, taking all of him in, inch by inch, and a soft sigh escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. “O-oh.”
You had to suppress another whimper when your hips met his, the stretch of his length stinging pleasantly. He hissed at the feeling, his hands flying to your hips to keep you in place.
His touch reminded you of Amsterdam suddenly: of the way he had held you, the way he had felt after all these years.
You wanted him so much that it no longer felt like a simple wish. He felt like a necessity and you could not understand how you’d ever managed to go on with your day when he wasn’t in the room with you.
You needed a moment to adjust to him and Jungkook watched you all through it. Even though he was barely able to keep his eyes open, he took in all of your reactions as the initial sting subsided and your hips twitched against his.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Move for me, love. Please?”
You sighed as his endearing words—and the loving lilt in his voice—lit up your stomach and made you involuntarily clench around him. He groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. You had told him to lie back, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could obey.
Finally, you began to move and he threw his head back, swallowing hard at the feeling. You rotated your hips in slow circles, allowing his entire length to delicately rub the walls inside you, and he could not remember when he’d last felt you like this. He could not remember anything outside this room, and when you rested both of your hands on his chest for balance, he seemed to forget his own name, too.
“Fuck,” was a soft, jagged breath that got caught in his throat as he watched you in the dimly lit room. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out your silhouette, and he squeezed your ass tighter so he wouldn’t immediately lose it at the sight.
You drew back all of a sudden, placing one hand on his chest and resting the other against the mattress, right by his arm. You pulled your bottom lip in with your teeth as you lifted your hips, then slowly lowered yourself on him again. It took you a moment to find your rhythm, and Jungkook parted his lips, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth every time your thighs met his.
You shifted your weight to your knees to increase the pace and he nearly choked on his breath when you placed your hands on his shoulders and bounced your hips against his, his length gliding against your velvety walls.
“Y-you—oh, fuck. You look s-so beautiful,” he stammered, his hands travelling from your hips to your waist, then back down again.
Love and lust burned in his darkened eyes when he looked up at you, his hair falling in messy curls around his face. His chest rose and fell underneath you, the muscles on his abdomen tightening each time you sank down on him again.
You watched him like this and you changed your mind about describing him; an adjective that would fit him had not been invented yet.
You tried to respond to his words, but he suddenly lifted his hips off the bed to meet you halfway and knocked all breath out of your lungs, forcing a soft whine to pass your lips instead as you leaned into him, losing your balance.
It was starting to get too much—how deeply he reached inside of you, how tightly he held onto you—and Jungkook noticed it right away. Squeezing your hips, he adjusted his position by bending his knees for a better angle and bouncing you on his lap very slowly once, then twice, before pulling you into his chest and thrusting into you faster.
Curses and almost desperate whines fell from your lips, matching the rhythm of his skin slapping against yours. He knew he had hit your sweet spot when he felt your nails digging into his chest, when you tightened around him, when your strained breaths got louder, when your teeth grazed his collarbone—and he growled, gripping your hips tighter and trapping you against his chest with his other arm.
“Jungkook—” you panted, barely able to speak, and the sound of his name on your lips ignited the room around him.
He grunted softly and flipped you both to your sides, pulling your back into his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist and chest, his grip firm, deliberately inescapable, but his fingers gentle as he teased your nipples. His thrusts were slower at this new angle, but now they were deep and hard. It was your increased breathing and louder, uncontrollable chants of his name that encouraged him to speed up.
“Fuck,” he exhaled. And again, louder when you clenched around him, “f-fuck.”
This position allowed him to reach even deeper inside you and the way your walls sucked him in was as blissful as it was worrisome—he wanted this to last, and he didn’t think it would. Not when he had you so close to him, inhaling the scent of your apple shampoo, peppering breathy kisses on the side of your neck, feeling the goosebumps that he brought to your skin when he caressed your nipples, and thinking he might actually explode every time your body jolted against his with each one of his thrusts.
He slid one of his hands down your navel and kept his palm right above your entrance for a distracted minute, feeling himself move in and out of you, and groaning into your shoulder before lowering his hand to your clit. You writhed against him as he rubbed on a soft, gummy spot there, bringing you dangerously close to your high.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimpered, almost helplessly clutching his arm that was wrapped around your chest. “I’m—s-so close.”
“I’m here, my love,” he whispered. “Come for me.”
Anything you were going to say died on your tongue when you felt his lips on your neck again. His fingers continued to massage the soft spot between your folds and your walls clenched and pulsated around him with each thrust of his hips. White clouds gathered on the edges of your vision and a low moan passed your lips as the knot in your stomach tightened.
Jungkook felt you tremble in his arms and pulled you into his chest harder. Keeping quiet had stopped being an option for you when he pressed on your clit with the pillows of his fingers, his hips continuously drilling into you—he remembered the spot you liked, and he made sure to hit it every time. He felt you tighten again, so close to your peak, and he relished in your loud whimpers.
Pulling his lip ring in with his teeth, he held you tightly against him to maintain a steady pace, his strokes assured and calculated, to push you completely over the edge. He fell impossibly more in love with you when his name got caught in your throat with your breath.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he cooed as you writhed in his arms, coming down from your high. “S-so pretty—oh, fuck, my love—when you come for me.”
The anticipation of his own climax soon caused his hips to start moving with a certain frenzy, and he pulled all the way out before plunging himself into you again and fully bottoming out.
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he grunted breathlessly, twitching inside of you.
His hips stilled completely and he cursed again, spilling himself into the condom. Groaning deeply, he drove his hips into yours instinctively, this way prolonging his pleasure and the time he spent watching you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet. He thought he heard you whisper a breathless I love you and he was convinced he came again just at the sound of it.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck and his voice cracked in the middle of his breathless chants, “fuck, I love you so much—I-I love you so fucking much—”
He still didn’t release his grip on you, lifting his head to kiss your neck again, while the two of you tried to recover and accepted, eventually, that you probably never truly would.
“Fuck,” he exhaled. Then, again, from the back of his throat, “fuck.”
You turned around as much as you could with his arms around you, and met his lips with your own, humming into the kiss and causing him to lose his sanity again—although, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure if he’d even regained it yet.
Your bodies remained locked in an almost desperate embrace for another minute, your lips moving leisurely against each other as your breaths mingled and the room—but not your hearts—quieted down.
Unfortunately, you had to strain your neck to kiss him from this position, and Jungkook ended up having to let go of you. He pulled out carefully—the gentle contact still making you hiss from sensitivity—and helped you roll to your other side to face him.
After pressing another kiss to your lips, he grabbed a stray pillow and placed it next to your head. He touched your chin gently, prompting you to lift your head so he could slide the pillow underneath.
You smiled at the unnecessary, but very appreciated gesture. “I love you.”
His chest contemplated bursting.
“I love you,” he replied. “So much that I am not—I don’t want you to leave this room. Or my bed, actually. I want to stay with you every second of every day, and I’m okay if every court would qualify me as insane for that.”
You snickered into the pillow, your expression radiant. “I don’t think you’re insane.”
He grinned and got up to discard the condom before climbing back into bed.
“And I want to stay, too,” you added, closing your eyes.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he got comfortable on the bed. “Not just tonight, but always?”
“Of course,” you whispered, your voice turning lighter, “but I do have my own room.”
He settled in his spot next to you and draped an arm over your waist with a soft grunt. “Fuck if I knew why.”
He pulled back slightly to see your laughter. You didn’t seem like you were going to object or tell him that you should leave, but he still caressed your cheek, bringing his fingers over the smile lines by your lips that he had caused. His heart fought fiercely against his mind at the sight of them. He was almost ready to call Rated Riot’s next song “Smile Lines” and just sigh dreamily into the microphone for five minutes while Yoongi played gentle piano chords in the background.
“I think you should stay with me everywhere we go,” he said, leaning in to connect your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. His voice was a whisper against your mouth, “so we could do this again. And again. And again.”
You broke the kiss—and he would have been very upset about that, but you did that to laugh again, and he understandably forgot everything he was thinking of doing.
“You have a show tomorrow,” you reminded him gently, your eyes warm.
He shrugged. “So we’ll have to take a break for a few hours.”
You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your smile to an appropriate level. “Hmm.”
He rested his forehead against yours. “Sounds good?”
“You are messing with my head,” you whispered.
He grinned, pressing his lips to yours again. “I love you.”
You kissed him back but made sure to click your lips in feigned disapproval as you pulled away. “What did I just say?”
“You messed with mine first,” he countered, his quiet laughter blending with the warmth of your kiss.
He had already stolen all air from your lungs, robbed your mind of every thought you possessed before him, and kept your heart hostage—and now he was beaming like he knew very well he’d done all that. Like he wasn’t one bit sorry about ingraining himself in your life so much that it felt like you shared one soul, and it had stayed with him after you broke up: forcing him to suffer from the weight of it, while you searched for something missing inside you.
“I love you,” you said again. Your words were a whisper and they got lost on his tongue but found their way to his heart anyway.
Planting a few quick, butterfly kisses to your lips, he leaned back against the pillows, keeping his palm on the side of your face so he could rub gentle circles over your cheek with his thumb.
He loved you, and sometimes this love was all that he could think about.
Other times, however, the shadows in the room grew just a little darker.
“Sid hasn’t replied, huh?” he asked quietly, reluctantly.
You sighed, shaking your head. Your phone had been silent all night, and the more you tried to ignore the silence, the more noticeable it became.
“Should I text him?” he suggested. “To poke the bear a little.”
You frowned and felt your stomach sink—a feeling that Jungkook made even worse by pulling away from you and allowing for the brutal, cold air of the room to fill the space where his hand had been.
“What do you mean?” you asked, sitting up.
He rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand.
You moved closer to be able to see the screen over his shoulder. You frowned the whole time, but it really did not take Jungkook more than a minute to compose a message that almost sparked an argument between the two of you.
After some relatively mild back and forth—consisting of your annoyed, “I told you I want to keep you out of this” that was followed immediately by his melodramatic, “I’m doing this because I love you”—the two of you reached a compromise.
Look, his text to Sid read. I know you’ve been texting my girlfriend. Stop. Let’s keep this shit between us.
This wasn’t the full truth. After sending you a few mocking texts after he posted that picture to his Instagram, Sid hadn’t texted you anything else. You weren’t sure if this would even provoke a response, but Jungkook was convinced. He sent the text and pulled you back onto the pillows despite your protests.
“I’m sure it’ll only be a few minutes,” he said. “Until he texts you.”
Sure enough, he did.
Just as you lied down next to Jungkook, just as he intertwined your hands, his fingers toying with yours, just as you were about to forget your phone altogether—just then, the text finally came.
Your eyes widened, but Jungkook had the decency not to gloat. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you until the beating of your heart returned to a reasonable pace. Then he let you sit up again and reach for your phone.
Sid’s message read, “eager to talk to me now?:)” and you breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as you showed the text to Jungkook.
“Alright,” you said, content. You didn’t even need to respond to him anymore, he’d already started the next step of your plan. “Now we’re good to go.”
Jungkook, smiled, nodding and extending his hand to pat the bed. You lied back down and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to feel your skin against his again. His breathing was soft on your neck and you smiled back, finally losing yourself in the calming darkness of his room and the warmth of his touch.
For one blissful minute, you focused on his breathing and traced the edges of his tattoos, and felt as though nothing bad, nothing hurtful or upsetting had ever happened to either of you.
“Will we be okay, do you think?” you asked wearily. “Tomorrow.”
He was taken aback by the question, you could tell from the way his breathing increased, but his response was quick and certain.
“We’re already okay,” he said. “Today and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day—”
“I love you,” you interjected softly, successfully stopping him.
“Thank you,” he said. “I would have kept going.”
You grinned. “I know you would have.”
He snickered, pulling you closer until you nestled your face into his neck and rested your hands on his chest, tapping, every now and then, to the beat of his heart.
“Sleep,” he whispered. “For a few hours, at least.”
You leaned your head back enough to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips instead of replying.
Jungkook hummed and melted into you, easing his grip to give you some space to breathe, but still remaining attached to you like he was a part of you and you were a part of him.
He could have stayed with you like this, he thought, for the rest of his life. And for at least a hundred more lives after that.
chapter title credits: sleep token, “give”
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#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook x you#bts x reader#bts smut#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts x you#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts au#jungkook au#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfiction#bts rockstar au#jungkook rockstar au
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Licking Your Wounds
paring: boxer!jk x fem!reader
genre: jealous boyfriend
summary: Jungkook wins his boxing match so y/n gives him his special prize.
warnings: smut, jungkook eats y/n out in his dressing room, cussing, he dominant ash, he smirks like 71682 times, JK is such a flirt, jungkook is a simp for y/n
The huge arena fills with a roar as the crowd goes wild for the one and only Jeon Jungkook. Worldview Champion with a legacy of being 19 times undefeated. Everyone loves him. The crowd cheers for Jungkook, another win, leaving his opponent on the floor of the ring. The referee blows his whistle and gestures with this hands the fight was over. He raises Jungkook's right arm above his head clearing victory. Triumph he looks to the crowd all giddy and coy. The winner smiles at the crowd giving a respectful bow to the crowd, referee, then to his opponent. Thanking him and sure to shake his hand in all respects.
He makes sure he was fine before walking out of the ring. Walking down the steps to his manager massaging his shoulders. Praising him for another win. He doesn't seem to care too much for the praise. But he was looking for you backstage. And there you were within the sidle lines waiting for him to praise him along with his team. Cheering him on he walks towards you. He smirked and turned your way, winking.
He wiped his bloody nose and the sweat dripped down his forehead. “That win was for you, y/n.” He panted out of breath. His team rushed to cool him off with a mini fan and towels wiping off the sweat of his body. He sits in a chair to rest himself after the match as the members tend to him. His mind unable to think straight. So much happening at once. His thoughts can't help but remain on the incident that happened earlier that day. Jungkook caught you speaking to another guy backstage. In his mind he thinks that guy was making a move on you. In reality, you guys were only talking about the success of your boyfriend. Unfocused eyes he scolds, "I'm still not happy because of that guy flirting with you." He cocks an eyebrow at you waiting for your answer.
"You're way too jealous for your own good." You chuckled, grabbing his cheeks and pressing a long kiss to his lips. Pulling away you take one of your hands to scrunch his sweaty shirtless pecs.
"And you're way too stunning to be on your own." He smirked out playfully, he bites his lip looking down at you. while you admiring my six-pack abs that he's been working hard on. He pushes his tongue to his inner cheek, cockily. Pulling you up, he wrapped my free arm around your body. "Come with me."
You take his free hand without hesitation. "Where are we going, Jk?" Y/n uses one of the many nicknames given to him, her favorite was Jk commonly used but sweet and meaningful to her lover.
"We are going to my dressing room, babe." He smirked back. Dragging y/n to his dressing room. Finally arriving in the room he makes sure she gets in first before he does, slamming the door behind him. His back aggressively hits the door then his hand. He closes his eyes shaking his head. Y/n only stands in front of him. Goggling at his bare chest, heave up and down. Her eyes make their way down to his big arms. Right arm filled with beautiful tattoos. While the other one is bare. Then his hands, his big vainy hands. She loves his fingers especially. She needs his fingers.
He notices your staring and pulls you closer towards him, caressing your sides while pulling you along, your faces only a few inches apart. "And I got ... reward for you." You mumbled out, smirking. "I suppose we got some celebrating to do, congrats on winning, I knew you could do it!" His wanting hands caressing you in all the right places. His sweat beading down the ends of his hair and forehead down to his abs. You watched the sweat drip all the way down to his chest. You happily smirked thinking of all the things you want him to do to her.
He couldn't control himself. The rush of the fight along with your looks made it hard to keep his hands to himself."How about some more .. celebration?" He mumbled out, smirking. Jungkook pushed your back against the wall, his lips on yours as he pressed up against you. Your back only ached for a few seconds consumed by the pleasure Jungkook was giving you.
Jungkook began to slip off your shirt. By the hem of it pulling it over your head. Discarding it somewhere on the couch. You bite your bottom lip as Jungkook takes off your clothes. Taking a moment to admire, his eyes locked with yours. He smirked and slowly began to kiss your neck. The feeling of him leaving mouth kisses all on your neck makes you feral. The room was filled with your giggles. The giggles were a sign for him to step it up. His pink lips, soft, but full, was kissing and sucking at your neck. "Don't leave a hickey this time." You demanded him, the last time Jungkook gave you a hickey was when Jungkook was meeting your parents for the first time.
Lucky enough your parents didn't see. Even though, you're a grown woman. It's still embarrassing when your parents know you're having sex.
"No promises." He grumbled out, smirking. Not caring if there's one or 6 hickeys on your neck. Continuing to kiss and suck the other side of your neck and shoulder. Taking a moment to glance at your neck, there was a hickey from last time. He chuckled. "That thing is still there?"
"You're joking." You pushed him off to touch the spot of where the long term hickey was. You went to the mirror that was in the dressing room, to find that the hickey. She sees the fresh marks Jungkook has just left on her. She rolls her eyes annoyed. He was only being a jerk off. The hickey he pointed out had faded.
Coming behind you in the mirror he rests his head on your shoulder pouting his lips, putting both hands on your sides squeezing them ever so slightly. "C'mon baby, you know I like them." His hands make their way to your thighs. Lightly brisking them. One hand slowly makes its way to your vagina. "Are you wearing underwear?" His cheek, slightly brushing against yours. A slight blush forming on your face while his eyes remain locked on yours through the mirror.
"What if I told you I'm not." You answer in all honesty.
"Just how I like it." He smirked back, his hand smacked your bottom before spinning you to face him. His head cocks towards the couch. He pushes your back to the seat of the couch. You watch him as you spread your legs just enough. His eyes stare at your full body with lust. Thinking of all the things he will do to you. His left hand grips your hip and his spare hand strokes down the inside of your thigh before it reaches your hot core. Waiting for Jungkook to make a move.
Your body shudders when he brushes your clit, the direct contact is not enough for you. He spreads your lips open playing with them. Eyes looking up to you then to your pussy he's studying you and your reaction. "You're so pretty." He kisses your clit. Your body is responding well and you seem to be aching for his mouth. Aching for him. That's all he ever wanted. The top of his warm tongue licks the top of your clit. He slowly begins to lick up and down across your clit, rolling the bud with his tongue a few times. He carefully bites down the bud. You react with you thrusting your hips to his face. He enjoys seeing you squirm under him. You moan out. Circling is tounge in you he begins to suck your clit earning another moan from you.
"Fuck, Jungkook." You let a shaky moan. Guiding his head with your hand in his long hair to where you want him. His ears and head filling with pride he can't help but smile. You feel Jungkook chuckle against you. "So good!" Like a vibration in your coochie, it sends you closer and closer to your climax. He continues to fuck you with his tounge in your hole and within seconds he has you squirting. You let out a relief breathe. "Shit." Your back arches. His lips return to yours in a hungry kiss. You can taste your juices on his tongue mixed with his saliva. Your body writhes beneath his, toes curling, teeth digging down on his shoulder in a failed attempt at keeping quiet.
"You taste so good baby..." He whispers out, still nibbling on your bottom lips. Both of your bodies are pressed tighter almost as if they fit perfectly together. He kept tasting your lips with his tongue before moving my lips over to your neck once again.
Eyes, still locked with yours, were filled with passion, love and lust. Knowing you wanted him just as much as you wanted you. Which made the moment much more intense. His bulge throbbed in desire. His fingertips continued to run across your hips.
"You know you're lucky I spoil you." He smirked out, looking into your eyes. Moving hair out of your face to behind your ear. His fingers running through your hair, his lips planted on your forehead, hands sliding down your back, teasing you with the clips of your bra. "He eventually unclips it. Seeing you sit so pretty for him has him hard. He massages your lower back, your legs wrap around his waist. "This good?" He mumbled out in question, still planting small kisses on your shoulder.
"What if someone catches us?" Y/n asks in a soft tone, almost as if you were unsure to speak up.
Eyes look at you. A stoic smirk creeps on his face. "They won't catch us. And if they do, let them watch. They'll just be jealous of this moment, that's all." While his hands slipped lower to the top of your hips. His fingers gently slide underneath. "You don't want me to stop, do you?" You shake your head no.
His eyebrows raise. "Then I won't stop. Not until you beg me to stop. But you have to use your words to stop me, princess."
authors note: hope you like this im honestly kind of proud of this one idek but it could have been better ig. Also, errors if you find any errors like 'my' don't mind it. So, as I said in my last post i'm going to start being more consistent. I'm thinking of posting at least 5 times a week just to start off. If you guys wanna request and talk to me go right ahead. I'm a nice person so feel free to hmu.. ☺️ And you can request me to write anything I won't judge trust me. Also, I'm down to collab with any writers so hmu.
#jungkook#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts fluff#bts reaction#yandere bts#bts angst#bts army#boyfriend jungkook#imagines#boxing#romance#bts imagines#bts oneshot#jungkook oneshot#bts drabble#jungkook drabble#jungkook x reader
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summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3
> in which masterlist!
note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺
—
it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.
you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.
“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”
“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”
“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”
“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”
“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.
with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.
minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.
he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.
he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?
he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.
his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.
you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.
he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.
you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.
“this won’t do!”
his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.
jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”
to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.
“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”
but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.
“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.
“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”
“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”
“no one’s stopping you, babe.”
this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.
he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.
he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.
however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.
he groans.
“baaaaby,”
“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.
he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.
“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”
“about?”
“motorcycles…”
“okay,”
“okay?”
bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.
“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”
“okay,” you repeat yourself.
hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.
“are you telling me or are you asking me?”
“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”
“alright then,”
his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”
“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.“
“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”
“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”
“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”
“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”
“i know,”
“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”
“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”
“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”
“three times-”
“oh my god, absolutely not!”
the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.
“twice?”
“you said anyth-”
“please?”
“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”
you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.
“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.
he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.
“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”
he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.
“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”
“i promise!”
“and you won’t get angry at me?”
and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.
“how hard can that possibly be?”
he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.
today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.
he doesn’t.
on the contrary, he is a given a gift.
“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.
he draws back with a playful grin.
thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.
“huh, you don’t mean that.”
“i do!”
“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”
“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”
what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.
“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”
“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”
“really?”
“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”
this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.
you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”
your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.
“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.
“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”
“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”
you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.
“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.
“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.
“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”
a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”
jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.
he releases a burdened sigh.
“why me?!”
—
“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”
“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”
“i said turn around, baby.”
you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.
jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.
“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“
“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”
you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.
you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”
“i was going to surprise you but-”
he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.
“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”
“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”
“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.
you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.
“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”
“but won’t you get cold?”
“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”
it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.
alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.
“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”
cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.
“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”
“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.
damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.
“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”
“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.
“or shorts under it-”
“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”
“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”
you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.
“come back here!”
he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.
“ah, ____!”
“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”
—
“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.
you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”
he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.
“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”
you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”
“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”
“how about let’s wear one each?”
upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.
you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.
“hey! what are you laughing at?”
“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”
“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”
he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”
his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.
cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.
at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.
what a dream come true.
—
it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.
“this is so cool!“ you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.
“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”
a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.
if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.
“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”
the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.
“is it fun?”
“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”
“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”
“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”
while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.
ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.
his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.
“time to hold on again, baby.”
“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.
you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.
in his case, double the thirty.
the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.
jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.
—
it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.
but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.
the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.
“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”
“who broke up?”
he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”
“then why are you pouting?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.
you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”
“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”
he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.
“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”
“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”
there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.
“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.
“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.
“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”
he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.
fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?
“and we’ve been together for five years.”
“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”
the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.
“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”
he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”
“oh my god, i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.
“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.
“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”
he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.
“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”
if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.
your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.
he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.
“do you see it now?”
he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”
“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”
he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.
“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.
jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.
you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.
you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”
“bastard you’re crazy about,”
“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.
“want to go for a ride?”
“to where?”
“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”
you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.
jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.
“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”
—
from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.
you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.
“baby! what are you doing out here?”
he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.
his heart drops to his stomach.
your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.
“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.
an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.
“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”
you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.
“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”
“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”
“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.
“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.
the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…
“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”
he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.
“see? all good!“
you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.
“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”
he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.
“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”
in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.
his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.
he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.
time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.
“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.
“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”
“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”
“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”
—
you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?
“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”
“why?”
the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.
“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”
you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.
“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.
jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.
“exactly!”
you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.
“it’s not even possible at all now!”
“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”
wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?
“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”
driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.
“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”
“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”
he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.
“before that, i need to tell you something.”
you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.
marry me.
marry me.
“baby…”
“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”
marry me.
when i see the future, i only see you.
“i love you.”
—
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
—
#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic
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When He Thinks You’re Gone
Jungkook x Reader
Summary: When You and Jk have a fight before he has to leave for promotions, he wants to
assume that you can fix things when he returns. But what if your things are gone when he gets
back?
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of reader being sick(nothing detailed tho)
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The final words he’d spoken to you last night kept rolling around in his head as he stared out the
plane window, waiting for take off, guilt blooming heavily in his gut.
Fighting with you before having to leave for a week was not how he’d wanted your last night to
go at all. He couldn’t even understand how things had escalated so suddenly; one minute you
were telling him about your frustrations about him being gone so much recently, the next both of
you were yelling and saying things you didn’t mean and he was storming off to the bathroom.
He knew he shouldn’t have lost his temper the way he had, he was just stressed with the
comeback and frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t doing enough, and your words had been the
badly timed final straw.
By the time he’d returned to the bedroom, you were already asleep, or at least pretending to be,
he didn’t check, laying down facing away from you and falling asleep without a word.
The next morning, he’d left early before you’d even woke up, choosing not to risk pushing things
further on the way out.
Shaking his head at himself, he fished his phone out of his pocket, sending you a short text.
“I’m sorry about last night, we’ll talk when I get back. See you next week, I love you.”
Sighing, he sat back in his seat, not feeling any better.
Over the next few days, his sense of unease over the incident continued to grow, his only
contact from you coming in the form of flat, often single worded texts. He knew you were still
upset with him, and he couldn’t blame you, but he knew the two of you could sort everything out
when he got home. Just a few more hours to go…
It was quiet as he entered the apartment, most of the lights off other than a few lamps.
“Y/n?” He called gently as he sat his things down, Bam appearing from down the hall and
bounding over happily to greet him
“Heya, buddy.” He said softly, kneeling to give the dog a few pats and scratches, still glancing
around for any sign of you. “Where’s your other parent, huh?”
When he straightened back up, he headed for your shared bedroom, thinking that since it was
kinda late, maybe you were already in bed. As he pushed the door open though, he felt his stomach drop as he scanned the space, finding no sign of you and realizing that your things
were also no longer there.
Your charger on the nightstand, your clothes, even the fluffy throw blanket that you kept on your
side of the bed were all missing.
“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The words echoed mockingly in his head as he stared around the suddenly sparse looking
room. You wouldn’t have actually taken his stupid suggestion, would you? Without saying a
word?
“Y/n?!” He called again, voice shaking.
“What?” His head whipped around at the muffled reply from the guest room across the hall.
Bolting across the landing, he pushed open the door to reveal a very tired looking you, curled
into a ball in the bed, blinking back at the sudden light.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, I was so scared!” He moved forward, but you quickly raised a hand up to
stop him.
“Stay away!”
“What?!” He froze, staring at you in confusion.
“I’m sick, the flu or something, and I don't want you to catch it, so please just stay away.” You
croaked, pulling your shirt over the lower half of your face as a makeshift mask.
“I don’t care about the stupid flu!” He said, trying step closer, but you backed further across the
bed. “Hold on.”
He ducked out of the room, coming back in less than a minute with a mask now covering his
own face. “See? Now can I come closer?”
Reluctantly, you shrugged, which he took as an okay, coming over and carefully sitting down
next you as he took in your appearance. You were pale, your eyes tired and heavy with dark
circles under them, you looked like you hadn’t been eating well either.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked softly, feeling your forehead to check your
temperature.
“You were busy.” You said stuffily, avoiding his eyes.
He frowned, not missing the lingering meaning behind your words, before getting up to make
you some tea.
As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed that the rest of the apartment seemed to be well
looked after, despite your slightly fragile state, including Bam who was curled up next to you on the bed when Jungkook returned.
“Have you been the one taking him out for walks?” He asked, not able to imagine you keeping
the massive dog reigned in in your current state.
You shook your head. “I called your usual service.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.
“For what?”
“Everything. For saying what I said last week, for not being here when you needed me. Just,
everything.”
You dropped your gaze. “I should be the one apologizing, I was being stubborn.”
“I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He said.
You held your pinkie out. “Truce?”
He chuckled, having almost forgotten your old solution to arguments when you’d first started
dating.
“Truce.” He hooked his finger with yours, holding it for a moment before tugging you forward into
a hug.
“I love you.” He mumbled against your hair.
“I love you too.”
For a few minutes, neither of you moved, until he insisted on moving your things back to his
room so he could look after you, helping you get a shower before ordering you both some food.
The whole evening, his eyes never left you for more than a minute, seeming thoughtful but not
saying what about until you were tucked back into the bed next to him, on the verge of sleep.
“Move in with me.”
Your eyes flew open as you looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious, I hate the whole back and forth from your place to mine.” His eyes never left yours,
fingers traced patterns over your arm as he spoke. “Coming home and not being able to find
you was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt, I don’t wanna experience that ever again.
"So, please, move in with me?” He asked, pressing a small kiss to your hand.
“Okay.” You whispered, swallowing back tears at his sweet words.
“Thank you.” He smiled, pulling you close again, both of you quickly falling asleep in each others
embrace.
#jungkook reaction#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabble#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#bts one shot#bts scenarios#bts x y/n#bts x reader#bts angst#bts drabble#bts requests#bts fluff#bts fanfic#7ndipity
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my heart did | jjk
jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?
warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.
word count: 25,5 thousand words
posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM
notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧
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The sun is now setting.
Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time.
Fucking Mondays.
You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different.
For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus.
Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed.
Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance.
Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips.
There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily.
Well, as happily as you could be.
God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity.
Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move.
Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something.
You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted.
Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time.
Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty.
You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty.
Again, fifty-nine.
And, again, fifty-eight.
Once more, fifty-seven.
In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement.
“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.”
You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.”
He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.”
“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.”
“Bitch?” he guffawed.
“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged.
“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked.
The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach.
As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together.
You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques.
His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact.
“What?” you barked.
“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.”
What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words.
Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday.
The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School.
You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from.
The two of you came from two different worlds.
He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair.
“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter.
“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.”
He hummed, “go on.”
The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself.
You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became.
Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell.
Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips.
But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him.
Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea.
He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from.
Two different people. Two different worlds.
“Are you going to tell me what you need?”
“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.”
By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade.
There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him.
“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.”
“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone.
“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.”
“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?”
“I never said—“
Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin.
You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful.
“You did kind of imply it.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Does to me.”
His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth. There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either.
It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace.
“You know, you keep averting my question.”
“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.”
“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working.
“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in.
He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit.
And it would all be your fault.
“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.”
The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together.
“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch.
Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch.
“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head.
“Curious?”
You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?”
“Kiss you?”
You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions.
“Okay,” he breathed.
There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from.
But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips.
You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts.
His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes.
He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever.
You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another.
His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was.
No one. Certainly not your boyfriend.
You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly.
You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . .
Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top.
His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.
Though, you knew you deserved the latter.
“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work.
He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”
“Jungkook. .” you trailed off.
“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?”
Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.
“Jungkook, just shut up.”
But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book.
“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out.
“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.”
“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours.
Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours.
You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.”
“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words.
“That’s not the reason why…”
“Then, why… Why?”
Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment.
“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.”
“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .”
“No?” he asked.
“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything.
“You want me to forgive you?”
You remained quiet.
“Then, beg.”
“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.”
They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out. He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say.
Things would always remain this way.
He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”
You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words.
Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower.
Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be.
Fucking invisible.
Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi.
You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low.
A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque.
With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure.
“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.”
“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk.
He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality.
“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked.
“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees.
“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.”
Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind.
“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook.
“Spoke?”
You nodded.
“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?”
“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”
“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes.
“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.”
“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins.
“There was definitely a lot of harm done.”
“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.”
Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him.
This guilt.
It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom.
Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward.
“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?”
“We broke up.”
You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him.
“What happened?” you offered.
“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Did something happen before all of this?”
“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.”
“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.”
He remained silent before continuing.
“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.”
“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.
“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”
“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.”
“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close.
“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.”
He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!”
“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.”
“Bitch.”
As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room.
It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny.
Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago.
For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right.
It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid.
The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder.
Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.
“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”
“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”
“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?”
“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.”
“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled.
“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.”
You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this.
Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella.
It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well.
You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you.
Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago.
In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by.
It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.
Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose.
Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom.
“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him.
“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it.
“You need something else to get your mind off of it.”
He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up.
“I know.”
“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.
“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs.
“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.”
“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”
“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.”
“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.”
Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die.
The set-up was easy.
There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile.
Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period.
Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled.
‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read.
You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure.
“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.”
“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day.
He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you.
Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye.
“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”
“Tell me.”
“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.”
He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.”
The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips.
Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?”
Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you around.”
Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.”
The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command.
The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness.
There were too many feelings jumbled into one.
“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”
You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers.
He’s breathtaking, he’s always been.
“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.”
Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.”
“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.”
“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.”
He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”
“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.”
“Soaked,” you snickered.
“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.
“Where did my umbrella even go?”
He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other.
You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”
“Were you going somewhere?”
“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction.
Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries.
You feared falling into him—falling for him.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.”
“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.”
“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.”
Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done.
If only you could turn back time you’d make things right.
In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap.
“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street.
“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.”
“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back.
He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?
The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window.
Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?”
“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.”
“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”
Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.”
Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.”
“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”
“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?”
Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?”
You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”
“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing.
“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.”
“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.”
“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.”
They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately.
“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him.
“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.”
Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.”
You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips, as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open.
“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?”
“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you.
“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.”
Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time.
“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”
You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you.
“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction.
“I told you to not worry about it..”
“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.”
“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”
“No, I feel like I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered.
He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.”
You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC.
“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know.
“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.”
“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.”
“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began.
“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.”
The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”
Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.”
“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever.
He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.
“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.”
“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.”
After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that.
You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.
“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them.
“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.”
He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you?
“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared.
Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.
Jungkook was gone.
The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.
Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder.
You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever.
‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’
‘I can’t believe I did it either.”
‘What was it like?’
The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning.
All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom.
‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’
‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’
Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever.
‘Yeah, thankfully.’
You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain.
Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now.
You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they were easy to follow until they weren’t.
Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least.
“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.
That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up.
The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts.
“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you.
“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway.
You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”
“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”
By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete.
He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over.
“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?”
“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”
He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.”
The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing.
You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.
A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second.
You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.”
Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for.
Fuck, do I still like her?
Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this.
I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever.
Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of thoughts breaking out in his head.
Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled.
You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet.
The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple.
Does she think of me?
I do.
Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?
I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now.
Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy.
Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone.
By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep.
Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed.
“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..”
“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”
“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.”
“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.”
“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said.
“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again.
What did I even dream about?
You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did.
Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans.
He seemed. . frustrated.
Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her.
The image in your head was impure as soon as you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality.
I want her touch—need it. So bad.
You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction.
This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right.
Ignore.
God, I would fuck her so good.
Think of something else.
With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought.
You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up.
She would take me so well. Fuck!
A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes.
You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.
His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.
While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again.
The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell.
I hate how much I still want her.
I hate that I can’t have her.
You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.
The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is.
The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck.
The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came.
God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime?
“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?”
He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’
Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?”
How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench.
“No. .” you shook your head.
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.”
The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either.
“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.”
You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?”
His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.”
“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim.
“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?”
“After four?”
“See you then.”
For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element.
“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.”
You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors.
“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.”
“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged.
“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again.
“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.”
You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?”
“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.”
“You never told me what happened.”
“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.”
“The one he threw the week before school started?”
“Yes.”
“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.”
You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.”
He didn’t say anything so you continued.
Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for.
The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet.
You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o.
After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded.
Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled.
Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around.
You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did.
Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money.
You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night.
The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly.
It was a rooftop balcony.
The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set.
Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots.
He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him.
The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.”
“So, why aren’t you down stairs?”
“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently.
“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.”
Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame.
“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.”
“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?”
Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”
“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.”
“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.”
You sneered, “audacious? Big word.”
“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .”
“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.”
“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.”
“Brains and beauty,” you corrected.
“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being.
Only he lived in your thoughts.
The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way.
“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?”
He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?”
“That you are more beautiful than life itself.”
Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.”
“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.
His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.”
“You know I can’t believe that right?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.”
“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.”
“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,”
“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils.
Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?”
“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that.
“So just admit you wanted to lo—”
You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted.
The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses.
Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.”
You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”
“Are you trying to confess something?”
He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin.
“Tell me.”
You hummed.
“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?”
Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .”
“Should I stop?”
“No, please,” you pant.
He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.”
From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”
Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds, “wait so you guys. .?”
You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook.
“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all.
“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.”
Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.”
You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”
He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue.
“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.”
“Did you ever find who took the picture?”
“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.”
“How did they even come up with that?”
“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.”
“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.”
“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.”
“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?”
“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.”
“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.”
“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth?
“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.”
“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”
He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”
Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing.
You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project.
Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement.
After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door.
Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder.
Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone.
Why is she staring at me like that?
Do I have a stain or something?
He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly.
“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.”
He nodded.
The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door.
Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight.
Where the fuck is Jimin?
I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer.
And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out.
Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did.
Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.
That’ll literally fix nothing at all.
You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly.
“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly.
“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized.
You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more.
He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.”
“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?”
He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.”
“Okay.”
Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah.
You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.”
“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook.
“Titanic?” you asked.
“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?”
“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, ���the assignment is practically done for us already.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.”
“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink.
“I wasn’t moaning.”
I was last night though.
You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.”
“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.”
“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them.
He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.”
Don’t smirk.
Eternally mad at her, remember?
The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours.
You shrugged, “maybe I do.”
“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours.
Look away.
But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t.
“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions.
She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her.
Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier.
Fucking one way telepathy.
“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit.
You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.”
“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good.
Fuck it.
His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him.
“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.”
Tell her. It’s easy.
Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot.
He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you.
“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed.
His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament.
You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?”
He hummed.
“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth.
“Alot of things.”
You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”
“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”
You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?”
Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters.
Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum.
“Good boys don’t touch themself.”
Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive.
You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you.
“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.”
“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed.
His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off.
It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention.
You wanted it so bad.
You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?”
“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?”
“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.”
“Then, how is it supposed to go?”
Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible.
His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition.
Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck!
“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.”
You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth.
“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?”
Been such a good boy. So good.
You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired.
After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee.
“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.”
“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.”
“You have?”
“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.”
I do want you. So bad.
And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will.
He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom.
… But you were not disappointed.
He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years.
In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you.
“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.
“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.”
He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.”
“Fuck you, Jimin.”
“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.”
“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.”
Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course.
“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired.
“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not.
“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.”
You nodded.
“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?”
“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path.
“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”
The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.
The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair.
You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.
It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy.
You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches.
You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away.
You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well.
I need to talk to her. Yeah.
Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you.
‘Hey, can we please talk?’
Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never.
‘Sure. When are you free?’
‘Right now.’
‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’
‘Come to my apartment in 5.’
‘K.’
Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide.
You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.”
“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space.
“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.”
“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.”
“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.”
“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?”
“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.”
“Isn’t it everyones?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.”
“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.”
“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.”
You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?”
Go on. Go on.
“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach.
“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?”
“Forget that.”
Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it.
“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.”
“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.”
“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.”
His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.”
“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”
“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.”
“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.”
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.”
He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?”
“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge.
“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”
“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move.
She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together.
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’m free tomorrow.”
The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit.
Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin.
The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things. This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine.
For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance.
But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in.
You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore.
You look beautiful every single day.
“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.”
This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots.
“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.”
I also know they were always your favorite look on me.
“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting.
“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.”
“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day?
“They are the exact same ones.”
“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo.
“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.”
“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?”
He nodded before taking a small sip of his water.
“Jungkook?”
He looked at you, “what?”
“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?”
Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.”
“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt.
“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his.
“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?”
“I think I’ll take the Paella.”
“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad.
“I’ll have a Coke.”
“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen.
The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around.
“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?”
“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.”
“You prepared snacks for us?”
“More like I cut-up some fruits.”
“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.”
“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.”
You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes.
Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters.
She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm.
Don’t flex. . Don’t flex.
Dammit.
He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face.
You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?”
“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.”
“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined.
“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed.
“Art didn’t always come easy to me.”
“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create.
“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.”
“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.”
“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.”
“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.”
Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath.
“Thank thank you,” he stammered.
“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.”
He beamed, “what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are your passions?”
You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.”
“But then. .”
“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.”
“Funny how life works right?”
“One-hundred percent.”
The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it.
Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself.
The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one.
Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course.
After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.”
“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around.
“Be nice, okay?”
“I will, I will.”
When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright.
“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was.
“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.”
“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him.
You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never.
He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement.
“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”
“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.”
“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.”
You scoffed.
“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.”
“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered.
Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see.
“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.”
He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through.
“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.”
He guffawed while passing his painting over.
“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is. It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.”
“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.”
“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.”
“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp.
You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”
“Always.”
Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever.
His muse. You love the sound of that.
The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.
Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom.
The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on.
Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other.
“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back.
“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained.
“And moving will only make us hotter.”
“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.”
His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.”
“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard.
“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed.
“I just like having you. . here.”
“In your room?” he asked.
“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.”
“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.”
Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.”
Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.”
“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.”
“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.”
“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.”
But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead.
“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.”
You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.”
“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint.
The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back.
You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”
He nodded.
“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook.
You were dickmatized. Yes, you were.
“You have me.”
“I want all of you.”
“Take it all,” he whispered.
Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking.
You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation.
“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver.
You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars.
“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire.
What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever.
“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths.
“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned.
Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there.
His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations.
Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated.
“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.”
“You tired yet?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly.
“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you.
“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?”
“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.”
Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins.
“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky.
While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all.
“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?”
“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.”
He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.”
“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior. Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud.
He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress.
“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.”
Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch.
The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before.
“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath.
You nodded frantically.
“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still.
You nodded once again.
Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants.
His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead.
She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky.
“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth.
“Yes?”
“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.”
Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right.
“Okay—okay,” he stammered.
Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room.
“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.”
He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly.
“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void.
“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.
You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?”
“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked.
“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip.
“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.”
“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ”
Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come.
“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine.
“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.”
“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .”
“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.”
Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet.
“I’m coming!” He cried out.
The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue.
“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up.
A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface.
“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed.
“And Jimin.”
“And they saw?”
“Mhm.”
“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”
“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door.
A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you.
“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace.
“Yes?.”
“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible.
Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.”
There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth.
Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that.
I’ll always stay with you.
-
-
-
an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<
i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*
#bts#bts smut#bts angst#bts reactions#bts imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#bts jungkook smut#bts jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabble#mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun
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NEED TO KNOW — j.jk
★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader
★genre: smut
★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!
★W/C: 4,395
A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.
Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.
You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.
He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.
Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.
Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.
Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.
The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.
Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.
All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone. He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.
“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.” He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you, sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move.
A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.
One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.
You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp. “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away.
A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.
All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.
It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.
He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.
He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.
He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.
“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.
You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.
Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.
This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.
“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.
He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.
His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.
Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.
You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.
A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.
“My dirty little girl."
A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics#bts#bts reactions#bts smut#bts x reader#bts army#bts fanfic#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook headcanons#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook reaction#jungkook scenarios#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#jungkook#jeongguk#jeon jungguk#kpop hard hours#kpop headcanons#kpop smut#kpop
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