Tumpik
#clubzerooclock
chateautae · 11 hours ago
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hotter than hell | final. (m)
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banner by the lovely solaris @jamaisjoons​​ <3
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➵ summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the namkook moonrise masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons​​
➵ pairing: fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre: supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 19k
➵ warnings: swearing, semi-accurate biblical depictions of angels and demons, fantasy-based story-telling, mentions of fear, violence & injury, mentions of blood, aNGST, tragedy that leads to depression :(, light mentions of taking one’s own life (very very minor, please read with caution if this is triggering), morning after shenanigans, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, pussy-eating, heavy making out, petting, unprotected sex (wrap before tapping pls <3), massive dicc!jungkook, switch!reader, marking, scratching, cum play/tasting, rough sex, shower sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, hitting it from the back <3
➵ a/n: NAURRR it’s the final now :( I really hope you guys like this ending and please excuse me if it’s not my best, for those who don’t know I wrote this while recovering from heart surgery :]  please excuse any mistakes i don’t have a beta for this!! i hope you enjoy my lovelies 🥺💓 feedback is always appreciated <3
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| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | final. |
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A light breeze dances across your cheek, causing goosebumps to freckle your skin. Your chest squishes into the mattress beneath you, splaying a hand across Jungkook’s brawny chest for warmth.
Except, Jungkook isn’t next to you. 
Your eyes flutter open, squinting as the morning light blindingly permeates the opulent bedroom. You clutch the sheets on Jungkook’s side with confusion, finding the imprint of his sleeping body, but vacant of him. 
Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. 
“Jungkook?” You immediately rise, anxiously surveying your surroundings for your king of hell. “Jungkook?” You call urgently, heart accelerating with each second he doesn’t reply. 
Nerves begin eating at you, your fretful mind jumping to horrendous conclusions that tear your heart out of your chest. You sit up and hug the sheets to your quivering, naked body, as though you’re protecting yourself from the worst. 
“Jungkook? If you’re playing a joke this isn’t funny.” Moisture floods your eyes, stressing your concern. Last night’s conversation only dawned terrifying thoughts, forcing yourself to avoid the worst possibility right now. 
He can’t be gone already, he couldn’t have had such little time—he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. 
Your breathing destabilizes, tone shaky when you cry out. “Jungkook?! Please, where are you!”
“Woah, woah, angel.” You hear his concerned, silky voice when he emerges from the bathroom, shirtless and wet. Every muscle in your stiff body relaxes, seconds from crumbling into pieces. 
“Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook coos, settling by your side and resting a palm against your cheek. “I’m here, hey. It’s okay.” 
“Jungkook… I thought—” You choke up, almost embarrassed you’re on the verge of crying. You hide your face to conceal the tears, but Jungkook unfairly knows you too well. 
“I’m right here, angel. Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He kindly purrs, seating himself on the edge of the bed and tugging you into his warm chest. You bury into his neck, immediately throwing your arms around him—Jungkook squeezes you tightly, stroking your hair. “Wow, you really can’t last 10 minutes without me, can you?” 
His tone is playful, encouraging you to lighten up. You force a smile upon your lips, drawing away to find his beautiful chocolate orbs. Jungkook cradles your face, holding you dearly. “Are you okay?” 
You nod, inhaling a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m sorry, I just jumped to the worst conclusion and thought you—” 
“Hey, you don’t have to say sorry.” He assures you. “You know I’d never leave without saying goodbye.” 
Your heart spasms inside your chest, feeling a sting upon hearing the word “goodbye”. It felt so damningly final. “I never want to say goodbye…” You trail, eyes solemnly focusing on the white sheets wrapped around you. 
Jungkook exhales worriedly, despising the misery on your face. The words weigh heavy on him, too, instead curling your hair behind your ear. “Did you sleep well?” 
You recall the memory of sleeping in Jungkook’s embrace, admiring the cozy heat of his body, the calming sensation of his skin pressed against yours—a small smile curves your lips. “Yeah, I did.” 
Jungkook’s face brightens, biting his bottom lip. “So, did you really miss me? I was only showering, baby.” 
It’s then you register a white, cotton towel hugging Jungkook’s scrumptious hips, droplets of water hanging from the ends of his wet, shaggy locks—he looked irresistibly sexy. You clear your throat and swiftly wipe at your eyes to appear unaffected. “Sh-shut up, I would never miss you.” 
“Mmm, I beg to differ.” Jungkook hums, cupping your chin to lift your face. “What did you dream about, angel? Did you dream about last night?” 
Flashes of the steamy session light hot fireworks inside you, your pussy inadvertently clenching. You nibble on your lip, squishing your thighs together to prevent yourself from gushing, avoiding his eyes. “I dreamt of you being less annoying, actually.” 
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek with a smirk, bringing his lips mere inches from yours—his spearmint breath deliciously kisses you. “You’re really cute when you deflect your feelings for me, did you know that?” 
Grumpy about his accuracy, you pout, shoving him away. “Whatever; bet you thought of me and my naked body with you in the shower the entire time, loser.” 
Jungkook cracks a mirthy, amused smile as he flicks a boobs of yours. “Oh, I definitely thought of that.” You giggle, but the scheming demon walks his hands across the sheets either side of your body, his gaze alluring. You nervously swallow as his lips dangerously skim your ear, whispering. “I also thought about fucking you senseless against the shower wall.” 
You shiver, feeling a current run through your spasming sex—you tightly seal your lips to surpress a moan, whispering. “Why didn’t you?” 
Jungkook laughs while drawing back. His veiny, beautiful hand lands atop your hair, smoothing it. “I didn’t want to wake you; you’re like a baby angel when you sleep.” 
“Stop being cute.” You roll your eyes, curling your hands over his sturdy shoulders to push him back—it was so tempting to snatch any opportunity to touch his deliciously-carved muscles. 
Jungkook falters back, a fond smile on his lips. You lean back and perch yourself on your elbows, letting the sheets fall from your boobs. 
You eye his body like a work of art, admiring each and every divot, every harsh line and impeccably crafted edge. The slabs of muscles hugging him are mouth-watering, unable to tear your greedy eyes away—especially not from the perfect v-line running along his abdomen that disappears behind his pesky towel. 
It’s impossible to not recall the same godly body moving on top of you, working himself hard to thrust inside you, glistening with sweat as he grunted and groaned, moaned and panted. Your skin automatically heats up, chewing your bottom lip again. 
Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he crosses his brawny arms—you feel sick watching the tattooed one flex. “So someone definitely didn’t forget last night.”
“Hard to forget when you get fucked by the devil.” You add a saccharine sweet smile to your words, eyes giving away your lustful thoughts. 
Jungkook cracks a smug side-grin. “Mmm, and how’d you like the devil fucking you? Was it mind-blowing? Earth-shattering? Life-changing?” He dramatically emphasizes with jazz hands. 
“Hmm,” you fake contemplate, drawing out your foot to skim across Jungkook’s knee just underneath his towel. You slowly graze your toes up his thigh, salaciously eyeing him. “More like eh, really.” 
Jungkook cocks a brow. “Eh? You’ve gotta be kidding me, right?” 
“Not really—I’ve had better.” 
Jungkook’s features immediately scrunch with resentment. “Hah, I know for a fact you’re lying because I already know your sex stories. Nice try, angel.” 
“Really?” You quirk a brow, his already apparent irritation amusing you, drawing higher up his quads. “Do you really think I’d tell you all my sex stories? What if I hid or lied about something?” 
Jungkook narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.” 
“I’ve been hanging out with the devil, Jungkook; I’ve become a sinner.” Your sultry timbre causes Jungkook to swallow, and your eyes gleam. You caress his muscular thigh high enough that you press the ball of your foot against his monster cock, and Jungkook growls like a beast. 
He pounces on you, giggling when he ensnares your wrists and pins you down to the mattress. “Take back what you said, or I’m giving you a sinful punishment, angel.” 
You smirk. “Awh, but I don’t think big scary Lucifer would ever punish me, would he? Aren’t I too precious to you?” 
“There are many ways to punish someone, and I’ve been thinking of specific ways for you.” He retorts, his eyes shimmering a cavernous red.
“Really? Like wha–” You nonchalantly wave him off, but your question is abruptly cut off when Jungkook glides his hands down your sides, hooks around your thighs, and lowers himself to your core—he tugs you flush against his face, diving head first into your pussy. 
The cry you let out is erotic—loud—joints liquiefying to the feeling of his strong, wet muscle licking a long stripe through your slit. 
“Jungkook, what the–fuck!” You moan out instead of reprimanding him, attempting to resist his tongue if it weren't so goddamn addicting. 
“Jungkook…” Your call is more of a sigh, moaning with pleasure when his tongue masterfully licks across your cunt, spreading your legs wide open. 
Your fingers weave into his messy, wet curls, gently tugging them when he supplies you your very own heaven. He licks and sucks about as he pleases, even teething your clit and erupting a high-pitched whine from you. 
He moans when your taste hits his tongue, snaking his hand up your quivering body to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes with delight, deftly rubbing tight circles over your nipple with his thumb—fireworks explode behind your eyes. 
Your hips buck into his gorgeous face, feeling his plushy lips lick your soul out of you. Lucifer’s tongue was surely the definition of sin, you thought, as Jungkook’s long and crafty muscle applied sweet pressure to your clit. He slithered the tip through your folds, jerking your back off the sheets, thighs closing around his head. 
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking wet.” He praises, pushing your thigh back to plunge deeper, to lick the cum he oozes out of you. “The dirtiest angel ever.” 
He’s driving you insane with his licks, with his hand on your tit, with his intoxicating stimulation that makes you see stars. Your cunt begins pulsing for more, for him to drive himself inside you until you’re full of his cum. 
Impatiently, you tug at his shoulders, forcing him to release your sex and crash his lips onto yours. You swing your arms and legs around his strong body to greedily kiss him, tasting your flavour on him. Jungkook groans once you do, a hand of his slipping underneath your head as the other grips your side, melding his hips with yours. 
The contact makes you shiver, harbouring no patience for foreplay. 
You shove him back, eyeing him with insatiable lust. Your hands quickly target his towel and toss the damn thing aside, Jungkook reading the room and removing the sheets from your body. 
He collides with your lips again for another messy kiss before grabbing his shaft, gently pumping his cock. It’d already grown hard as he ate you out, and now stands tall and proud as he’s seconds from splitting you open.  His face buries into your neck when he clambers over you, entwining a hand with yours in the sheets as he simultaneously sinks into your spasming hole.
Jungkook softly groans as he pushes into you, kissing your throat. “Are you okay… after last night?” 
You nod with a harsh breath, fingers gripping his wet hair for support. He grunts deeply once he’s entirely sheathed inside, curling an arm underneath your back to press you into him. He wastes no time in thrusting, your hands instantly gripping his back and shoulder, shuddering pleasurably as you adjust to the size of him. 
“Still so big, Jungkook… holy fuck.” 
“You drive me fucking insane,” he breathes, kissing your collarbone. “I can’t help it.” 
Your breathy moans and groans resound around the room as Jungkook drives into your sex, already rocking the bed with a sensual rythym. You scratch your nails into his meaty muscles, mouths and breaths melding harmoniously as he sensually drives himself inside you—the action sends Jungkook off the deep end.
“Fuck, I love when you do that.” He growls, gripping you harder. “Go harder, as hard as you can.” 
You worry for him, flashing him a concerned look until he kisses it away. “I’m Lucifer, baby, it won’t hurt—just let me feel what I make you feel.”
Heeding his request, you beg him. “More, Jungkook… fuck me faster.” 
Jungkook complies with a heady groan. He begins slamming into your fluttering pussy, eliciting needy sighs and moans from you. You harshly scratch your nails down his back, leaving red trails that must have drawn blood, but Jungkook only thrives off it. 
Throaty, guttural groans leave him as pure sin leaks into his movements, passionately speeding up. “Fuck, ah fuck…” He clutches you as closely as possible, roughly fucking you at high speed, relishing in the feeling of it until this position isn’t enough for him. Jungkook quickly draws out of your sex to flip you around, your breasts and stomach now pressed into the mattress.
“Jungkook—” You’re interrupted when the devil tugs you onto all fours, your battered pussy kissing his rock-hard dick. You yelp, surprised by his harsh movements until he sheaths himself back inside you, feeling every bone in your body melt with pleasure. 
Your face buries into your pillow, sighing into it, gripping it with all the strength you can muster. Jungkook begins sliding in and out of you, no doubt easier with the amount of essence you deliciously leak.
He fucks you hard and fast, gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind. You cry out into your pillow, muffling the erotic cadence of your desire. It feels cosmically good like this, wantonly reaching your arms out to grab the bed frame. 
“Fuck, Jungkook… fuck!” 
“You like being fucked like this, angel? Like the dirty angel you are?” 
You pathetically whimper, tightly clasping the bed frame. “S’ good, Jungkook. More… I need more.” 
“Where do you need me, angel?” Jungkook coos, stroking your back affectionately—a complete contrast to his jackhammering hips. His voice is hypnotizing, alluring as he speaks. “Show me with my hand, baby, show the devil where you need him.” 
His words saturate your ears with liquid lust, your veins humming with pure rapacity. You reach out for his hand, Jungkook finding you in the middle. You relocate his fingers to your stomach, skimming them down until his digits press into your throbbing clit—Jungkook’s smirk is so wide you can hear it. 
“Mmm, my angel wants to come.” He hums, lowering himself so that his chest is flush against your back, his lips caressing your ear. “Hold on tight, Y/N, I’m giving you an orgasm so sinful, even hell won’t let you repent.” 
That’s the only warning you earn before Jungkook buckles down, curls an arm around your figure, and fucks you so hard you swear stars dance underneath your eyelids. The bed ceaselessly creaks, possibly on the verge of breaking as Jungkook hammers himself home inside you. 
His crafty tongue comes out to lick along your spine, your shoulder, your marked neck until your ear. He sucks on your lobe, whispering the rawest forms of filth. Paired with his fingers drawing tantalizing circles over your clit, it wasn’t long before Jungkook snaps the tight knot in your gut.
“Jungkook, fuck!” 
“There it is; cum for me, angel.” He ruggedly breathes. “Let me feel it, baby.” 
Just gently wraps his hand around your throat, choking the sides as he fucks you harder, faster, elevating your pleasure to mountainous levels until you finally reach Nirvana. 
With a cosmic thrust, your orgasm explodes inside you, chest inflating and deflating with heavy breaths. Jungkook momentarily slows down, his breath fanning your hair across your face. He’s throbbing violently inside you, loaded with cum he needs to release, and his lips move before yours can.
“Can I come… on your body?” He asks, breathily and with sweat glistening on his skin. “Your back… I’ve thought about coming on your back for weeks.” 
You shoot him a mischievous smile over your shoulder, still hazed over with post-orgasm bliss. “Want to paint me… like one of your french girls?” 
He smirks, far too attracted to your witty mouth. “I’d love to paint you and have you lick my cum off yourself.” 
His dirty mind intrigues you, granting him his permission. Jungkook picks up his pace again, sinfully rocking his hips into you until euphoria enters his veins. 
Jungkook’s pulls out of your sex in an instant to release his white hot seed all over your back, fascinated by the warm goops painting your skin. 
He decorates your lower back and even your ass, pumping himself until he’s left dry. He drinks you in with the most carnal look you’ve ever sensed, his eyes glowing such an intense red, he truly appeared demonic. He leans back down to swipe his fingers across your spine, gathering some of his cum—he brings his fingers before your mouth. 
Without hesitation, you lick it off, humming with satisfaction once the taste hits your tongue—who knew Lucifer’s cum could taste like stardust? 
Jungkook watches you enjoy it, watches your lips suck his digits as though they were his cock. He lightly groans before swiping up the rest of his seed to feed to you—he’s so sinfully filthy. 
Once you’d swallowed the majority of him, Jungkook pressed a kiss to your hair before he forced space between you, admiring his work on your back. You fall flat against your stomach, finding his eyes over your shoulder. 
“Shit, now I’m covered in cum—I’ll need to shower.” 
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, tonguing his cheek. “Can I join you?” 
“You already showered, genius.” You playfully narrowed your eyes, swinging your legs.
Jungkook laughs before crawling back over you, pressing sensual kisses to your neck. “Please, I’m covered in sweat from fucking you. I’ll need to shower again, and joining you would save water and all...” 
“Ah, yes, because the devil is so interested in saving the Earth, right?” You jest, moaning when he licks your earlobe. “Totally has nothing to do with fucking me in there, now does it?” 
“Of course not, what if my angel needs help showering?” He sarcastically plays along, his lips now worshipping you underneath your jaw. “She must be sore from last night and this morning.”
You can’t help but sigh when he finds the sweet spot behind your ear, kissing it affectionately. You giggle when his hands slip around your sides, attempting to tickle you. “Fine, but we’ll only shower, correct?” 
Jungkook stifles his snort. “Oh yeah, of course. We’re just going to shower.” 
“Yes, you’re certainly not going to fuck me against the wall like you said you would, right?” 
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Once Jungkook hoisted you over his shoulder and scrambled inside the bathroom, it wasn’t long before your back was pressed against the shower wall, and you held onto him for dear life as he fucked you senseless, your two wet bodies rutting against the other with no desire to stop. 
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After two more rounds of fucking in the shower and coming another three times, Jungkook still didn’t leave you even when you began your skincare routine. You laughed and playfully tried to nudge him off as he clung to your waist from behind, burying his face into your neck. 
“No, I’m never leaving you alone—you know I love your hair after you wash it.” 
You rolled your eyes, applying moisturizer to your face. “Ugh, who knew Lucifer could be such a mushy lover?” 
“Only for his soulmate, angel.” You giggled when his fingers danced over your sides, tickling you. 
You’d finally finished and spun around to kiss him, unable to tear yourself away from his delicious frame. His black dress-shirt from last night hugged your figure as he only sported a black Supreme t-shirt and matching boxers on his hips. 
You leaped into his arms as he grappled your legs around his waist. He led you back into your room, laying you across the sheets to shamelessly make out with you. 
“You know,” you begin, indulgently sighing out when he sucks his love for you onto your neck. “I think we’re kind of… obsessed with each other.” 
He smirks against your skin, his hot breath fanning across you. “That’s what happens when you’re primordial soulmates—I’ve been starving for you for an eternity, and didn’t even know it.” 
You brightly laugh as he pretends to eat at your neck, playfully mimicking the sounds of a hungry animal chomping you. Your panty-cladded core presses into his clothed crotch as you lock your legs around him, lazily rolling yourself against his abs—until something hits you. 
The word he just uttered; eternity. 
It suddenly snaps you back into reality, your mind weaving together what time Jungkook actually has left. Is it possible for him to never use his powers and still remain here? Is it possible for him to delay whatever will happen to him? If he never condemns your soul, he can remain here, can’t he? 
You gently clasp Jungkook’s shoulders and force space between you two, meeting his eyes with soft, curious ones. 
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 
You sit on the question, letting go of his shoulders to twiddle your fingers. “I… I don’t know if I should ask.” 
Jungkook visibly softens, rubbing his thumb across your lips. “You know you can ask me anything, angel.”
His supportive, kind tone melts your heart, scrounging up the courage to speak. “You need to tell me more, Jungkook, about what you found out last night.” You press, nervously approaching the matter. “Can’t you just not condemn my soul? Can’t you just conserve your power and not use it to remain here? With me?” 
Jungkook exhales weightily, supporting himself above you with a look of regret. “I can’t do that, angel. The terms can’t just be ignored like that.” 
“Why not?” You smooth your hands over his muscular chest, silently admiring the beat of his heart—that he’s still here. “Why can’t you stay, Jungkook?” 
He releases a deep, grievous sigh, gripping the sheets with a sense of frustration. It’s as though something dances on the tip of his tongue, but he refuses to share, shielding you from the pain of it. Your heart sinks, sliding a hand into his hair as the other holds his neck—you lift yourself to gently nudge his nose with yours. “Tell me, Jungkook, you can talk to me.” 
Jungkook disconcertedly meets your eyes, swallowing harshly—he begins very quietly, vulnerably. “If I don’t… if I don’t condemn your soul…” He strains to continue. You support him as much as you can, affectionately kissing him, caressing him. 
He exhales calmly with your unfettered love, gathering enough strength to continue. “If I don’t condemn your soul, Y/N, the Council will seize us and force me to do it, anyway.” 
Your eyes widen, stuttering. “They’ll—they’ll what?” 
Jungkook winces, clutching your sides. “They’ll force me to condemn you, angel. And it won’t be a simple arrest, either, they’ll detain us and even hold a hearing if they desire. They could potentially…” 
Again, Jungkook tenses, and your eyes fill with moisture, cradling his cheeks. “What is it?” 
“They could potentially torture me, torture you if I don’t condemn you—it’s how they do things, they won’t let this go.” 
Your heart cracks, bleeding the pain into your chest. “No way, it can’t be like that.” You begin to implode, tears collecting in your eyes. “How could they do that? I thought they were angels, I thought they were good.” 
“Y/N, you’re forgetting who we are.” Jungkook softly explains, brushing some strands from your face. “I’m the devil, and you’re my lover, baby—they’ll never allow anything good to happen to us.” 
Your heart constricts, lips trembling as a wave of emotion attacks, ensnaring your ability to think clearly. “Then we have to stop it, Jungkook. We can’t let them have you, we can’t let them have what they want. We’ll run—we’ll run forever and never let them catch you and—” 
“Y/N, it doesn’t work like that.” Jungkook coos, concern flooding him upon your panicking features. “Angels are supreme celestial beings, not human detectives. They don’t have to search for our whereabouts or investigate, they already know where we are—they know I’m not following through with their orders.” 
The thought of such omnipotent power overwhelms you, clutching your quivering hands to your mouth. The fear that cripples you is consuming, causing you to rise into a seated position to reel, to become terrified of what’s to come. 
Jungkook visibly shares your pain, his features devastated as he kneels before you on the ground and cradles your hands in your lap. Tears cascade down your cheeks, sucking in a miserable breath. “This can’t be… it can’t be like this.” Your voice breaks, your head spins—Jungkook cups your cheeks, wiping the tears that escape you. 
“It has to be, Y/N, we have no say in the matter.” He agonizes, his smooth and silky voice cushioning the blow. “So we only have one option to end this for good.” 
You lift your eyes apprehensively. “What?” 
Jungkook doesn’t answer, as though he’s fighting to accept it himself. His gaze is miserable—excruciating—causing your nerves to skyrocket. “What is it, Jungkook?” 
Silence again, his jaw tightly flexed with anger, his irises glowing with a damning sense of tenacity. 
“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook, spit it out!” 
“Our only option…” he struggles. “Our only option is for me to use the very last of my powers… and let myself die.” 
A freight train hits you, no, completely totals you as you stare at Jungkook, unable to respond. Denial is your only method of functioning, shaking your head. “No, no. Don’t you dare say that to me, you can’t die, Jungkook.” 
“What choice do we have, baby?” He sadly relinquishes himself to his fate, holding your jaw. “I can’t live knowing I have to condemn your soul—I can’t do that to you.” 
“So what, Jungkook?” You fight him, pain etched into your every feature. “Who cares about me? I won’t let you die!” 
“You don’t get it, Y/N. Condemining you means branding you as one of the wicked, it means subjecting you to the torture you’ll face for your indiscretions on Earth.” He explains seriously, vehement disapproval on his face. “I will never do that to you, I will never let you suffer to earn my freedom.”
“And it doesn’t matter, Jungkook.” You counter. “I’ll gladly endure whatever awaits me in hell if it means you get to live, if it means you’ll be able to reclaim your throne in hell—I’m the one who cast you out in the first place, it was my fault!” 
“No, that’s not an option.” Jungkook finalizes, gripping your hands with meaning. “This is the only way, Y/N, the only way you get to live a normal life without all of this crap. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you; so please, let me do this for you—let me save you.” 
You can’t agree to this, vehemently shaking your head. “No, that’s not an option, you can’t do this for me.” You sniffle, connecting your sorrowful gazes. “You have to condemn me, Jungkook, it’s the only way.” 
“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, not it isn’t.” Jungkook has to release your hands in order to rise from the floor, pacing the room. You watch as he does so, determined to change his mind. 
“There’s another way, Jungkook, you just won’t stand to do it.” 
His features contort, scoffing with narrowed eyes. “You’re right, Y/N, I will never send you there, I will never do that to you.” 
“And why not, Jungkook?” You rise to your feet. “We can’t let the council reprimand us and there’s no way I’m letting you die, so you have to do this, you have to!” 
“I won’t let the woman I love suffer in hell!” Jungkook explodes, his rageful eyes burning with emotion.
You shatter, clutching your chest where a hole was punched through it. “But then you’ll suffer, Jungkook, you’ll suffer for me, and I can’t live with that.” 
Jungkook stares elsewhere with oblivion, scoffing before he swivels around, hands perched on hips. “Do you know what will happen if I condemn you, Y/N? Do you have any idea what’ll happen to your soul?” 
You sniffle, shaking your head. “What?” 
“You know you’re the reincarnation of Lilith, right?” Jungkook reminds you, to which you lightly nod. “Do you know what it means to be a reincarnation, Y/N? It means Lilith is reborn as you, a human. It means even after you’re gone, after your soul is condemned, this shit doesn’t end.” His eyes fill with moisture, watching him swallow it away so he can continue. “The punishment Lilith faced for disobeying Adam was to be repeatedly reincarnated as a human. But another part of her punishment was to face eternal loss. Lilith and I fell in love ages ago, but I lost her when she was forced to be reincarnated as the love of my life across human lifetimes. When I find you in each lifetime, I’m meant to be ripped apart from you—we’re never meant to be together.” 
The information is far too grand for you to absorb, drowning in it. “Wh-what? Across… lifetimes? But how… how?” 
“I don’t know, my memory of each lifetime is erased. But me still being alive clearly indicates that I never die. And I know I would never voluntarily choose to condemn you which only means the Council always forces me to, and you’re forced to suffer horrible, horrible pain until you’re reincarnated again.” He agonizes, spitting the words with distaste. “I cannot live knowing that, angel—I have to end your eternal suffering by dying.” 
Jungkook’s finalizing tone scares you, afraid of what all this means, afraid of what it means for you, for him. How could your life have gone down this path? How can you possibly be the reincarnation of a demon? It’s too much to stomach, feeling bile rise up your esophagus.
“This can’t be true… it can’t.” You choke on your words, sniffling back tears. “I can’t let you do that, Jungkook. You don’t get to sacrifice your life for me, I can’t let you.” 
Jungkook’s dark brows furrow. “I’m not asking for your permission, Y/N. I will end your suffering, I’m ending this for good.” 
You can’t believe him right now, blindly choosing to follow his own agenda without thinking about you. You’d never be able to handle Jungkook sacrificing himself in your name—it’s too much. “No you fucking aren’t, Jungkook. Don’t make my decisions for me, you’re not sacrificing yourself for me and that’s final!” 
“And you don’t get to make that decision for me, either.  Who I sacrifice myself for is my choice, and I won’t let anything happen to you!” Jungkook shouts back, stepping closer to drive his point home. 
“Why are you doing this? Why are you choosing this when we can work this out, when we have other options?” 
“Options that include subjecting you to eternal suffering, Y/N?  I won’t let that happen because I love you, can’t you understand that?” He searches your eyes to share his truth, to help you see what lies within him for you—your tears only grow. 
“And it’s because you love me you’ll die, Jungkook, do you understand that?” You sharpen your tone, decreasing the space between you two. “You won’t just die, either, you will cease to exist, as in there’s nothing left for you after. You'll never come back, you’ll never be reincarnated or magically saved, you won’t exist anymore.”
Jungkook swallows painfully at that, needing to look away from you—your voice breaks as you continue, lightly pressing your fist into Jungkook’s chest. “That’s what it means for you to die, Jungkook. It means our story, whatever we have, ends forever, and I can’t…” You choke up, agony clogging your throat. 
It catches Jungkook’s attention, who lifts his eyes with insurmountable misery. 
“I can’t live like that, Jungkook. I can’t live without you… I can’t live in a universe where you’re not… where you’re not…” You can’t continue, you can’t say the words anymore; sobs wrack your entire figure as the reality of your doom drowns you, wraps its macabre hands around your throat and reminds you of your endless cycle of pain. 
Your chest constricts, weeping into your hands, seconds from collapsing until you feel Jungkook’s arms embrace you, tightly hugging you into his chest, cradling the back of your head. You completely crumble, pieces of your heart stabbing your lungs, unable to breathe. 
Jungkook squeezes you tighter, no doubt tears spilling from his eyes as he listens to your wails, listens to the pain in your voice. “I can’t live without you, Jungkook. You can’t leave… I just met you, you can’t say goodbye to me, you can’t…” 
“I know, Y/N.” His voice shakes, exhaling brokenly to level his tone. “But I can’t let you suffer, I can’t live knowing my baby’s suffering because of me, because I couldn’t choose her over myself—I can’t be selfish with you.” 
Your sobs grow louder, finally allowing the reality of this to sink in, to swallow your soul whole and leave you hollow. “You can’t leave me, Jungkook, you can’t leave. We’ve barely done anything together, there’s so much left for us, there’s still so much…” 
“I know, Y/N, but you’ll be able to do it with someone else.” Jungkook gently explains, stroking your hair. “Someone human, someone who won’t make you cry like this, someone who won’t leave, someone you can have kids and grow old with.” 
“No, I don’t want that, I don’t want any of that.” You deny him, blubbering like a child into his chest. “You’re all I want… you’re all I want, Jungkook.”
You feel him wince against your hair, never ceasing his affectionate strokes. “I love you, Y/N…” He whispers, voice quavering with pain, squeezing you as tightly as he can. “I love you, okay?” 
You shake your head, refusing to say it back because it feels like the end, it feels like he’s building a wall between you two to soften the inevitable blow, to make you accept this horrible fate, and you refuse to. 
You push him away. “Don’t say that, don’t say that, Jungkook!” 
“Why not, Y/N?” Jungkook sounds weak, and it’s then you realize tears are flooding his eyes, too, piercing your heart with sorrow. “It’s the truth; I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m doing this.” 
“No, no!” You stride away from him, inhaling sharply as your head begins to pound, pain seeping into every joint in your body. He can’t do this to you, he can’t. 
How can he say he loves you when he means to leave you? He’s lying to you again, yet again he’s breaking his promise, annihilating it, you thought. He doesn’t love you, he wouldn’t put you through losing him if he did. 
“I‘m not lying, Y/N, it’s because I can’t be selfish with you that I’m doing this, because I do love you.”
You pause, bewilderment etching into your features upon hearing an… answer to your thoughts. Your lips move slowly, furrowing your brows. “Wait… I didn’t… say that aloud.” 
Simultaneously, Jungkook’s eyes horrifyingly widen, swallowing as though he’d been caught. 
“I… I thought that in my mind… I didn’t say that aloud.”  You repeat, steadily turning to face Jungkook, who strictly stares in front of him, avoiding you. 
“Jungkook… can you… can you hear my thoughts?” Sheer shock is your only emotion, watching him grow antsy. “Can you fucking read my mind?” 
Jungkook opens his mouth, but closes it. He stammers repeatedly until he sharply sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with agitation. “I… it’s a Lucifer… thing. I can hear people’s thoughts to detect sins in them.” 
Shock is an understatement; you’re gob-smacked, utterly flabbergasted. Jungkook can read your mind… your fucking mind… “Wait… how long have you been able to read my mind? To hear my thoughts?” 
He swallows, flexing his jaw. He wets his lips before clearing his throat. “Since the moment I met you.” 
“So you have been able to hear… every single thought I’ve had since I met you?” 
He grimaces, conveniently drawing his eyes towards the bright, sunny skyline of Chicago. His silence angers you, sharpening your tone. 
“Jungkook, answer me—have you been able to hear every single thought I’ve had since I met you? Including the ones I’ve had of you?” 
Jungkook blinks, pressing a hand to his temple with a stressed sigh. “Yes; I’ve been able to hear every single thought you’ve had ever since I met you, including the ones about me.” 
Your gut horridly twists, reeling. Jungkook has known? He could hear your feelings grow for him? Develop for him? He could see inside your head? You suddenly felt grotesquely violated, like he could’ve weaponized anything you’ve thought of against you, like he could’ve easily played into your desires and entertained whatever personal mind games for his own satisfaction. 
Jungkook watches the realizations flash through your eyes. “Y/N, wait, I promise I didn’t purposefully do anything with whatever you thought. I can’t swim around in someone’s head, I can just hear thoughts, okay? And since my powers have been fading recently I can barely hear anything anymore, I promise.” 
“You could see inside my fucking head, and all you can do is make excuses right now?” 
“Y/N, no, wait. I promise—” 
But it didn’t matter what Jungkook was going to promise, because you’re both suddenly interrupted by the sound of a blaring, high-pitched screech. 
The sound batters your ears, the blood-curdling trumpetting in your head causing you to falter to the ground, Jungkook in tow. It seems to affect you more than it does him, however, because he’s not as phased by the ground that appears to shake, almost equivalent to an Earthquake. You feel his large, warm hands form to your writhing figure, comforting you. 
“Y/N, hey, are you alright? Y/N!” 
The sound is so loud you shout in agony, piercing your eardrums until it's followed by a bright, white light emerging into thin air in the main area of Jungkook’s suite. Your pairs of eyes follow the nearly blinding, unnatural beam, almost cracking open the universe itself. 
Not long after, three figures dressed in impeccable white with angelic, empyrean features present themselves—your eyes widen at the sight. The sound becomes quieter, but you feel fluid seep down on the sides of your face. A touch from your fingers reveals blood, freezing with fear when the figures step out from the portal-like door. Jungkook beside you even seems to stop breathing, and his fearful eyes clue you into exactly what’s going on. 
They’re here to take you. 
“Brother,” the one on the right, Raphael speaks up, regretfully regarding his brother. “I told you there would be consequences.” 
“Told you he wouldn’t listen, Raphael—always the overly moral guy.” Gabriel on the left chides his brother, leaving the most menacing looking one in the middle to be the one and only… 
“Michael…” Jungkook whispers in shock, his petrified eyes unable to tear away. 
“Lucifer, you haven’t followed through with your orders.” Michael’s deep, imposing voice flatley regards Jungkook, his stare intimidating enough to kill a man—literally. “You must come with us, refusing will only worsen your punishment.” 
Jungkook’s body stiffens next to you, hardening with denial. “No, I’m not coming. I won’t let you condemn her and keep this horrendous cycle of her pain alive.” 
Michael barely moves a feature on his face, stoically replying. “Then we’ll take you by force.” 
In seconds, all you register is the malice in the three angels’ faces before they lunge towards you and Jungkook. You squeeze your eyes shut and cower into his chest, until you fail to feel anything—instead, you sense the heat of the sun itself before you.
Opening your eyes, you find Jungkook shielding you two with the same ring of fire he manifested in Las Vegas, his eyes glowering an orangey red, as though the flames of hell were in there. 
“Don’t you dare touch her.” He demonically growls, emitting raw, unfettered rage. You watch as the three angels pause before Jungkook’s flames, reluctantly on the defensive. The use of his power immediately worries you, however, clutching his jaw with panic. 
“Jungkook, don’t–ah!” Touching his skin literally scorches you, reeling as your blistered skin reveals a legitimate burn. The sound of your cry snags Jungkook’s attention, his fiery red eyes revealing worry. 
“Y/N, angel, holy shit, I’m so sorry.” He deeply apologizes, straining to maintain his shield. “I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 
His concern even at a time like this melts you, shaking your head. “It’s okay, Jungkook, I’m okay, but don’t use your power, you can’t go!” 
“It’s the only way!” Jungkook shouts, increasing the size of his shield, the flames raging brilliantly as they ward off the angels. “It’s the only way I can save you, run, Y/N. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back!” 
“No, you said you’d say goodbye, don’t do this!” 
“I’m sorry, I have to, it’s the only way.” He insists, guilt radiating in his irises. “You need to leave before I scorch this entire place, go!” 
“No, Jungkook!” 
Your screech is so painfully loud, it causes the angels on the other side to come to a realization. Raphael urgently turns to the others. “He’s channeling enough power to kill himself. Michael, we have to stop him!” 
“Kill himself? What do you mean, why would he do that?!” Gabriel yells over the ear-piercing whooshing of fire. 
“To end her suffering.” Michael intuitively answers, his cold, distant eyes sliding in your direction. “He’s willing to kill himself to end the cycle of her punishment. What an impudent, cretinous brother we used to have.” 
Jungkook strains himself as he forces out more power, watching the veins in his arms not only bulge, but reveal trails of scorching hot lava. It sears his skin, his eyes fiery red, the vessels around them lit with a bright orange as he remains determined to end this, to end everything.
“Y/N, run, please run!” He roars, the ferocity of his flames growing into a vicious inferno, terrifying you when he grunts in pain. 
“Jungkook!” 
“Michael, we must do something, now!” Raphael urges. 
“Brother, we can’t let him kill himself, we can’t!” Gabriel piggy-backs. 
Michael exhales a calm breath, even shutting his eyes to do so. Without even so much as a bat of his eye, Michael opens his palm, as though grasping something, and slowly closes it, straining to squeeze the life out of something. 
It’s immediate the piercing you feel, as though your windpipe is being crushed by a pole of reinforced steel. You scratch at your neck, attempting to pry something off you but finding nothing restraining you, struggling for air. 
The sounds of your violent choking caution Jungkook, snapping his fearful eyes in your direction. “Y/N!” He reaches out for you, desiring to help, but that single second Jungkook loses focus, Raphael and Gabriel counter him with their pure energy, snuffing out his ferocious flames. 
Jungkook cries out in pain as he collapses, and faster than your human eyes can detect, you and him are both snatched by your angelic pursuers, vanishing into the white beam they’d come from. 
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“How could you do this to her? She’s human!” 
“Just let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” 
“I’ll face any punishment, I promise, just please, let her go!” 
Your head pounds, groaning as the weight in your mind lifts. Your eyes fight to flutter open, pierced by the nearly blinding white colour of the outside world. 
“I swear, I’ll break out of this cell and murder every single one of you if you touch her.”
Your conscious slowly resurfaces hearing such a familiar voice. Jungkook? Did he say cell? Why can you hear the violent clanging of metal against metal? 
Your curiosity forces you awake, inhaling sharply as you come to. Lifting your head, it’s hard to adjust to the scene before you. A holding cell, chains and restraints around your wrists and ankles, the pure, luminous white covering everything around you. 
Or perhaps, nothing is covered in white, but everything is white. You survey your surroundings, panicking once you find yourself isolated. 
“Why the hell did you nearly choke her to death? I thought you were one of the good ones, Raphael, you liar!” 
Swiveling to your left, you find that your cellmate is your one and only loud, obnoxiously cute hot-head. “Jungkook!” 
His doe eyes snap in your direction, relief flooding his features. “Y/N!” 
He crawls over to you, reinforced bars separating your cells. The smile that plasters across your face is radiant, excitedly shuffling towards him to be near him, to feel him. You reach out to clasp his hand through the bars, but the minute you do, it's as though your meninges are being torn apart, the world's most excruciating migraine plaguing you. 
“Ah!” 
“Y/N, Y/N, what’s happening?” Jungkook worriedly rambles, reaching through the bars to comfort you, only to be stopped by his chains. He curses, grinding his teeth harshly before his head whips in Raphael’s direction. 
“What the fuck are you doing to her, huh? Hasn’t she suffered enough?!” 
“I told you, Brother,” Raphael defends himself, lifting your head to catch a weary sight of him. “Hurting her in Chicago was not me, it was Michael.” 
Jungkook scoffs, murderous eyes matching his tone. “You’re still the one who let it happen, asshole.” 
“I warned you that not following through with your orders would lead to this, Lucifer.” Raphael stresses. “You neglected them. You knew this punishment was inevitable.” 
“No, what I knew is that my brother would at least try to understand that you are hurting a human, an innocent human!” Jungkook rages. “Fuck your primordial cycle of endless punishment, Raphael. She is human, she’s not Lilith, she’s not a demon!” 
“But the essence of a demon resides in her,” Raphael sharpens his tone, clearly in no mood to play games anymore. “How else could she feel pain right now?” 
Jungkook’s dark brows furrow before settling his eyes on you, concern washing over him. One look at his face indicates that he knows exactly what’s going on, scrounging up enough strength to speak. 
“Jungkook… what’s happening to me?” 
Your fragile, broken voice causes Jungkook’s irises to glisten, sniffling away his tears as his expression hardens—Raphael’s the one who answers your question. 
“Demons cannot withstand being in heaven; the pure energy here is damning to them, enough that it can kill them.” He robotically states, even if there’s a modicum of concern in there. “Only powerful demons are able to withstand it. It weakens them—causes horrible pain—but they can endure it.” 
The realization crashlands on you, tears flooding your eyes as you swallow dryly. “I’m… I’m a demon?” 
Raphael straightens his face, failing to show his emotions now. “Humans do not feel pain in heaven, but if you feel pain…” 
You shudder out the weight crushing your heart, a gruesome chill crawling up your spine.  
Your world turns upside down, but Jungkook grovels with frustration, shooting daggers at Raphael. The righteous Archangel swallows, shaking his head as he regards Jungkook. “You could’ve avoided this, brother. Your greatest sin was falling in love with her; remember that.” 
Raphael stalks his way out of whatever detainment center this is, its pristine, unstained white almost daunting, serving as a reminder that it can only be sullied by your inferior existence. 
Heaving for air, your hands begin to tremble, your entire body wracked by violent shivers. Jungkook’s face becomes riddled with sympathy, gripping the bars that divide you two. “Y/N, hey, talk to me. Are you okay?” 
“No, no I am not okay, Jungkook.” You raise your voice, which only causes the echo to splinter your head, whimpering. 
Jungkook winces, eyes flickering with worry. “I get it, I understand, Y/N, but you need to talk to me. What’s going through your head? What are you feeling—” 
“What’s going through my head? What’s going through my fucking head?!” You shout. “What’s going through my head is where the hell are we?! Why are we here?! Why does everyone keep telling me I’m a fucking demon?!” 
“Woah, hey, hey, calm down, baby. You’re fine, okay? Just look at me, you’re fine.” Jungkook attempts to pacify you, which only embeds more misery in you. 
“I can’t calm down, Jungkook. I can’t… I swear… I’m not a demon. I’m just a human; a stupid, measly human that gets B’s in her classes and worries about her future and goes home for the holidays. I’m not a bad person… I’m not a demon, I’m not a demon!” 
“I know, Y/N, I know,” Jungkook swallows thickly, his eyes shimmering with regret, guilt, every negative emotion he had the capacity to feel. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Y/N. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of this. You’re right; you’re a good person and you’re not a demon.” 
“I’m not a demon,” you feebly deny, really to yourself. You clutch your knees to your chest and borderline hyperventilate, repeating to yourself. “I’m not a demon… I’m not a demon, Jungkook. I promise, I’m not a demon, I’m not a bad person.” 
When tears prick your eyes and you bury your head into your knees, it’s like a blackhole swallows Jungkook’s insides, leaving him empty—in despair. 
“I know you’re not, Y/N. You’re not a demon, you’re not a bad person. You’re not Lilith—you’re you, Y/N. You’re you in the most annoying, yet adorable way that makes me wanna wrap you up in a warm blanket and snuggle you to death; either to cuddle you or to shut you up.” 
His playful words actually invite you to laugh, the sound only lasting a mere second before it's replaced by painful sobs, tears cascading down your cheeks. “Where are we… Jungkook, why are we here?” 
“We’re in the infamously overrated paradise.” He jokes at first, before biting back his own tears watching you cry. “We’re in Heaven, angel. And it’s just like I said; they arrested us. We’ll be having our hearing whenever they decide we’re worthy of one.” 
Your horrified eyes flash in Jungkook’s direction, his expression softening with empathy as he regards you. You lean back against the pure white wall behind you, staring at the endless ceiling, wondering how things could’ve gotten this screwed up. 
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It’s been hours now, or what you think to be hours. The lack of a clock and being in a celestial realm must’ve hijacked your sense of time. You and Jungkook sat in silence for much of it, certain that he was allowing you the time to digest all of this, to provide you the space you need. 
“Why don’t you feel pain?” 
The sudden sound of your voice rejuvenates Jungkook, his beautiful eyes flickering towards you. “Hm?” 
“The pain that I feel, why don’t you feel it, too? You’re the devil.” 
Jungkook deeply inhales before exhaling, his eyes kind once he turns towards you. “It doesn’t hurt me because I was formerly an Archangel; technically still am, so I’m not really a demon, just estranged from this place. It’s more like… coming home after running away.” 
You absorb that information, letting it distract you from the constant ache behind your eyes. “Good to know.” 
You dip your head back again, breathing through the incessant pain. Your mind swirls with numerous thoughts; last words, last conversations—what is one meant to do when they’re steps away from a death sentence? 
“Y/N… we never got to finish our conversation.” Jungkook’s silky, beautiful voice dances in your ears. It feels like an anchor, something to hold onto despite your impending doom. 
“Which one?” 
“About me being able to hear your thoughts.” 
You swallow dryly, turning away to conceal your grimacing expression. 
“Listen, I’m sorry I never told you. I just knew it was useless because it’d be impossible for you to hide your thoughts from me, and you’d be under constant stress and anxiety trying to.” He explains himself, turning the entirety of his body to face you. “I swear; I was never trying to play mind games with you. I never… used something you thought to gain my way. Your thoughts were like something special I got to have with you, like always getting to hear my favourite song.” 
Your heart throbs hearing that, the gentleness laced in his words easing you.
“It helped me understand you, it helped me realize that I never wanted you to hide the dark parts of yourself from me—that you’d be safe with me, and it’d be okay to have those thoughts.” You want nothing more than to see his face right now, slowly turning towards him to find the sweetest shimmer in his eyes. 
“It just… feels a little weird, is all—you could hear all the dark, sinful thoughts I had.” You inhale sharply, clearing your throat, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You could hear all the dirty things I thought about you.” 
Jungkook chuckles, bouncing a brow. “Oh, trust me, that was the most entertaining part.” 
Your mouth falls agape. “You’re obnoxious.” 
“Please; the amount of times I’d hear you wondering whether I’d let you ride my back or not. The answer is yes, angel, I’d totally let you.” His saccharine sweet smile prompts laughter out of you, becoming sentimental. This is what you loved most about Jungkook, you loved that he could make you laugh, that even in the face of an unavoidable death, he could crack jokes that surrenders even some of your pain. 
“How… are your powers now?” You hesitantly query. “You said you couldn’t really hear me anymore, and you used a lot trying to fight off the Archangels.” 
“They’re still there; I can feel them. If anything, I don’t feel as weak and fragile.” Jungkook tugs at his chains to demonstrate his strength. “I think I regained my angel form by being in a celestial plane, but I can’t use my powers at all.” 
“Of course; it’s Heaven and you’re Lucifer.” You sigh, knocking your head back. Jungkook hums in agreement, mirroring your action. You hate the silence that befalls you two; it only causes your mind to swim in a sea of dismaying thoughts, eventually drowning in them. 
“What’s going to happen to us, Jungkook?” Your cadence trembles, poorly attempting to contain a fresh set of tears. “What are they going to do to us?” 
Jungkook fails to react, merely staring before him. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know…” 
The hopelessness in his tone incites your tears again, sniffling them away before they tip over. Jungkook’s eyes slide over to you, concern bleeding into his features. He grips the bars to shuffle closer to you, reaching out his hand. “Come here, come to me.” 
You crawl towards the bars, tightly grasping his extended hand. He cradles you meaningfully, entwining your hands together as firmly as he can, warm eyes set on you. “Listen to me, Y/N, I won’t let anything bad happen to you—I promise. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re safe.” 
The sincerity in him brightens the darkness clouding your heart, forcing a smile. “You don’t have to, Jungkook.” 
“No, I want to, and I will save you; no matter what it takes.” Your gazes lock to enter a boundless world where only you and him exist, fighting back your misery. You lean you forward, and Jungkook finds your forehead in the middle through the space between the bars. He delicately runs his thumb over the back of your hand, turning upwards to plant a long, deep kiss to your forehead. 
“You remember that I love you, Y/N.” He says.. “That’s all you need to do for me; just remember that I love you… that I’ve loved you through lifetimes, and I always will.” 
You swallow thickly, refusing to succumb to another breakdown. “What Raphael said… about loving me.” Jungkook silently dotes on you, lifting his chained hand to smooth your hair. 
“What?” 
“He said that loving me was your greatest sin.” You rehash the agonizing statement, squeezing his hand. “Is that true? Is loving me your greatest sin?” 
Jungkook slowly exhales, tilting his head as he admires your eyes—the unadulterated love that pours out of him is enough to grip your heart. “There’s nothing I would change about loving you.” 
You feel joy for all of five seconds before your ribs crack with realization, chest cavities filling with the pieces of your broken heart. “But it would’ve been easier, wouldn’t it? Not loving me?” You sniffle, tears shaking in your eyes. “You should’ve never loved me in the first place.” 
You can see Jungkook’s heart shatter in his face, his eyes revealing his wounded soul. “Do you regret it?” He asks, cradling your jaw, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you regret falling in love with me?” 
“No, Jungkook, I don’t regret falling in love with you.” You embrace his hand that holds you, conveying your words with undeniable truth. “I just wish it could have lasted forever.” 
Subsequently, you and Jungkook are interrupted by the door swinging open, followed by three burly, guard-like angels stomping in. Their size intimidates you, cowering away as they stalk towards your cell as though they must complete a task. They unlock your door, infiltrate your space and suddenly stand before you, Jungkook immediately protesting. 
“Hey, what are you—” 
Rapidly, you’re grabbed at by two men, resisting your number one course of action. “What the hell? Let me go!” 
You kick and bat at them, but the pain knocking around inside your entire body is disconcerting, forcing your limbs to give up much earlier than you desire. You're lifted up against your will, attempting to snatch your arms back while Jungkook spills endless profanities. 
“Why are you assholes manhandling her? She’s already chained up!” 
The silent angels refuse to say a word, merely shooting Jungkook a menacing look before the third angel settles before you, reaches inside his coat, and maliciously plunges a dagger into your stomach. The pain that pierces you is indescribable, screeching with agony as blood begins staining Jungkook’s black shirt on your body. 
“Y/N! Holy shit, Y/N!” Jungkook ceaselessly shouts, his voice cracking with horror once the crimson red trails down your skin and spills on the floor. “What the hell was that for? Why did you stab her?!” 
“She must be weakened before she is taken to see the Council—she must not be a threat.” The one holding a dagger with your blood speaks—his voice is so lethally calm, you’re quite literally terrified. Your breaths quicken, increasing the gut-wrenching ache of your open wound, whimpering in pain. 
“Are you fucking serious? She’s going to bleed to death before she even sees them!” 
“This is Heaven, you forsaken angel. She cannot die.” The angel belittles Jungkook before nodding towards the two seizing you. They release you and you tumble to the ground, clutching your stomach as you cough out heaps of carmine blood, excruciating pain spreading across your body. 
Jungkook’s worry is mountainous now, thrashing at his chains and the bars of his cell. “For fuck’s sake, I’ll smite all of you before you touch her again, let me help her!” 
“There is no need, Lucifer; they’ve decided.” The angel’s sickeningly relaxed tone sounds daunting, causing Jungkook’s eyes to widen. “They’re ready for your hearing now.”
Simultaneously, you’re apprehended yet again by the same guard dogs, twitching in pain as your own blood stains the pristine white of everything; the angels’ clothes, the floor, the cell’s bars as you feebly reach out to connect with Jungkook, but you’re brutishly denied. 
Jungkook causes an ugly scene once two more guards invade his cell, shouting and resisting with all his might, tossing around threats to anyone who dares hurt you again, but he’s unwillingly apprehended too. Both of you are dragged out of the detainment area into a long, white corridor that seems to stretch for miles. 
Droplets of your blood spill all over the floor, your bloody handprints staining the walls as you weakly fight for your freedom. Jungkook still rages on, refusing to go down quietly—you’d expect no less from your favourite hot-head, your only positive thought in a horrifying moment like this. 
By the time your vision is becoming hazy from blood loss and your muscles lose their strength, you come face to face with an enormous, intricately embellished door that stretches far and wide. You’re only able to feel the fear pumping in your veins before the doors open, and you’re hauled into your own personal judgement day. 
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Collapsing to the ground, you’re harshly forced to stand upright, your spinning head able to at least determine Jungkook being tossed onto a podium in the center of everything, restrained with an unnecessary amount of chains. 
You’re far from him, off to the side in whatever could be considered a jury’s box, except vacant of any jurors. It’s only yourself and your two ruthless guard dogs who bludgeon you to stand, subjected to observing four walls in a daze. 
The room is vast and wide, housing what you assume is a prestigious, empyrean audience in the form of a coliseum. All eyes fall to Jungkook, their hushed, incessant whispers indicating exactly what Jungkook had divulged to you once—not many angels have ever seen Lucifer. 
Your line of sight falls to the tall benches in front of him then—extremely similar to a judge’s bench—with three very familiar angels behind; Raphael, Michael and Gabriel, in that exact order, with Michael’s slightly elevated in the middle. 
How predictable. 
Your cough suddenly draws the Archangels’ attention towards you, including Jungkook. He grits his teeth with a fed up expression, before his eyes glow their angry, fiery red at his estranged brothers. 
“You better get on with this damn hearing so I can help her.” He scolds them, and a collective gasp from all the angels circulates in the room, indicative of their innocence towards cursing—Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I’m fucking Lucifer, what did you angels expect?” 
More hushed whispering, and Jungkook grits his teeth. “I don’t need the theatrics, ‘brothers’; start this shit already.” 
“Very well,” Michael blankly proceeds, straightening his already firm posture. “I’m sure you know what you’ve been brought here for today, Lucifer.” 
“Well, I’m sure you’re gonna enlighten everyone and make me sound horrendously evil, anyway.” Jungkook’s saccharine sweet smile lathers his words with contempt. 
Michael sighs, pitifully looking down at his brother. “You have been brought here today for your indiscretions not only in Hell, but on Earth as well.” Michael’s damning voice booms around the room, truly baffled by how much raw power he contains. “Lucifer; your journey of sin began in Hell with your ill-natured fixation on a certain human.” 
“‘Ill-natured?’” Jungkook’s face scrunches. “I was in love with her, but you ripped her away from me and—“
“Moving on,” Michael overrides Jungkook, who seals his mouth shut and indignantly listens. “Your fixation caused sloth to compromise your duties. You had begun neglecting your mandatory tasks and relinquishing your role as Lucifer for a mere human, one who houses a demon at that.” 
The little whispers here and there were irritating, even causing you to grind your teeth—it was hard managing the pain in your stomach as you struggled to listen. 
“This is why you were banished from Hell and onto Earth, where your lesson was to meet the very same human that compromised your duties and condemn her wicked soul to hell as she houses the vicious demon Lilith.” Michael practically spits, and the entire room of angels collectively gasp at the information. You couldn’t stand their theatrics either—if only they knew the truth. 
“Not only did you refuse your duties, but violated our most absolute rule regarding the secrecy of our celestial identities on Earth, and wrongfully utilized your powers. Subsequently, rather than reaping the consequences of your actions, you disregarded our rules and fell in love with an evil incarnate.” 
The imposing Archangel speaks his piece so convincingly well, he effortlessly riles up your fighting spirit. How could a “good” being be so vindictive? “Considering your crimes, Lucifer, this human is to be banished to Hell for her harbouring of a demon, while you will have your memory erased of her existence as punishment for your improprieties and to ensure you continue your role as Lucifer as dutifully as you can.” 
“What?!” Jungkook exclaims, straining at his chains as anger visibly seeps into his bones. “You can’t do that to her, you can’t! I won’t remember her and she’ll be horribly punished by me!” 
“For that is exactly what must happen, Lucifer.” Michael confirms. “You of all beings should be aware of what punishment sin invokes.” 
Jungkook clamps down on his teeth with rage. “This is unfair; it was never her fault the soul of Lilith was reborn in her, that’s your fault!” Jungkook accuses. “Do these angels here even know the real story? The real reason why you’re punishing Y/N and I?!” 
Michael swallows, sharpening his eyes. “There is no other story, Lucifer. She is a demon and cannot be allowed to freely roam Earth.” Michael then directs his attention to the coliseum of angels, speaking with an elegance that funnily contradicted his immoral doings. “This, my fellow angels, is Lucifer. The traitor, the iniquitous being that dared defy his angelic nature to maintain his royal stature, to relish in the power he was gifted rather than be thankful to his creator. He will say anything, do anything of the sort to gain your sympathy, to manipulate you and allow sin to defile you. He will lie, he will cheat, and he will remain greedy for more power; you are to never feel sorry for him.” 
Anger was an understatement, pure white hot fury pulsed through your veins. How could Jungkook be painted to be such a malevolent existence when his duties are forced upon him? When he didn’t choose this life nor to have his own brothers turn their backs on him? You couldn’t keep your mouth shut—your blood ragingly boiled. 
“How dare… you?” You cough, breathing through the pain searing your stomach. “How dare you keep the real story from them? How dare you fail to mention the truth and punish him for simply falling in love?!” 
Michael’s cut-throat gaze nearly harms you, and a bitter laugh escapes him. “Of course, his lover would say such a thing.” He announces, motioning towards you and Jungkook. “In this woman resides a demon who is in love with this wretched devil. She is blind to the atrocities he commits and has been corrupted by his sinful lies.” 
“Atrocities? You’re saying I’ve committed atrocities? You’re the one who harms humans!” Jungkook shouts, the echo of his words causing the chittering angels to hush. “Have you told them that, huh? The way your angels chased and terrorized me and Y/N on Earth? Have violently abused her and nearly killed her? A human?” 
“She is not human, she is a demon, and she will continue to be a demon that will rein terror on Earth. She is to be banished and punished!” 
“She’s not a demon, she only has the essence of one because you’re the one that put it there in the first place! Look at her, fucking look at her!” Jungkook insists, hardening his murderous eyes and blood-boiling features. “All of you, look at her. Don’t you see her blood? Don’t you see that she’s bleeding?” 
Michael scoffs. “I do not care for her blood—” 
“No, you need to listen.” Jungkook grits, now flashing his tenacious eyes at the wide-eyed, quiet angels around him. “You all know what blood means. Blood means that she is human, a living, breathing human. A demon can’t bleed, only humans do.” Jungkook pleads, pouring his soul into his words. “It’s only because she’s in heaven that she hasn’t bled out, but if she were on Earth? She would’ve died 10 minutes ago. When the Councils’ people came for her on Earth, they nearly shattered her spine, crushed her windpipe, and abused her knowing she’s human. She only survived because of my powers. What do you think would’ve happened if I wasn’t there? If this happened to any other human?” 
Jungkook’s words permeate the dense, thinking room, slowly digesting his point. “Don’t you know what that means? It means these people were willing to kill a human. She’s an innocent human just like the beings you’re all meant to protect, the souls that you are meant to nurture, guide towards good, and yet you’re going to sit there and let Michael tell you otherwise? Condone the near killing of one? Let him banish her to hell under the accusation that she’s a demon, when she isn’t?” 
“Save your speech, devil.” Michael shuts down Jungkook. “You have still violated our rules by revealing to her you were Lucifer and using your powers. The essence of a demon still resides in her and you will do anything to defy us—” 
“No! This isn’t about me saving myself, I don’t care about myself at all. I wouldn’t have violated any of those rules if you didn’t cast me out in the first place and threatened to harm her—how else could I fight off your minions trying to hurt a human without my powers?” Jungkook speaks with resolve, enough that you watch the angels’ faces change in regards to his words, all deeply thinking.
“This is about her; her name isn’t Lilith, her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She was born in Inglewood, California, she’s a Psychology major that eventually wants to become a therapist who helps people. She hates modern music and loves listening to classics. Her favourite food’s shawarma and she’s a horrible cook but makes a mean breakfast with her favourite purple frying pan every morning. She has a million cushions because she can never stop herself from buying them, can’t swim to save her life, and she’s an absolute baby with pain. She also drives the most beat-up Prius on the face of planet Earth.” 
Your eyes water with a smile listening to Jungkook, wondering when he retained all this, heart throbbing at the fondness in his tone. 
“She’s stubborn, and loud and obnoxious and has this witty mouth that makes me want to duct tape it shut sometimes,” Jungkook laughs, glistening eyes focusing on his audience. “But she’s loyal, and fierce and kind and caring. Her favourite things in the world are butterflies, because she believes their beauty is similar to the beauty of humans, and she still believes in pinky-promises. She’s the only person that has ever looked at me and not seen something evil, something to be neglected and thrown away. She understood me; she understood that helping me meant putting her own life in danger and she did it anyway.” Jungkook sentimentally recalls, sniffling away his tears. “These aren’t the traits of a demon, they’re the traits of a good human. She’s a fighter, she’s pure and good and she may be imperfect, but she’s imperfectly human. So please, don’t let Michael brainwash you. Understand that you will be punishing an innocent human soul; it’s not her fault that the essence of a demon resides in her. It’s forced upon her, it’s involuntary, and there’s absolutely no justice in condemning her.” 
The room has fallen into a reflective silence, all by the eloquence of Jungkook’s touching words, the raw emotion their doused in. “So I’m asking you as Lucifer, even as the ruthless ruler of hell and the nefariously-known devil, to make your choice; either blindly send an innocent human to Hell… or help her.” 
The angels hesitantly turn and discuss matters with each other, hearing a myriad of speculations. 
“He is Lucifer, he must be lying.” 
“But she is bleeding; he is right, demons do not bleed.” 
“But the essence of Lilith still resides in her, it may be a matter of time before she turns evil.” 
“But it is true she’s human; angels are not meant to harm humans.” 
“Michael is hiding something, there seems to be more to the story. We musn’t decide without the details.” 
Michael’s frantic eyes shoot around, observing everyone’s chatter. “Fellow angels, do not believe a word out of his mouth; he is a sinner, a defiler—” 
“Hush, Michael.” Raphael eases his brother. “You must let the angels decide; may I remind you they are the voices of Heaven, we do not act irrationally without the say of our companions and every being brought before us must be granted the fairness of discretion.”
“Seriously, Brother,” Gabriel cuts in. “Great haste makes great waste; we must listen to their verdicts.” 
Michael grinds his teeth with indignance, seating himself rigidly with murderous side-glances in your direction. The angels relentlessly chitter away, causing Raphael to lift his hand and order their silence.
“Lucifer,” he begins, folding his hands over his bench. “Y/N may be human now, but who is to say she will not be consumed by the essence residing within her? How can we be sure that setting her free will not be unleashing a known, merciless demon on Earth?” 
Jungkook chews on the questions, strengthening his timbre. “I’ll personally make sure of it; I’ll keep an eye on her since I would know exactly when she’s being taken over by Lilith—no other demon or regular angel would be able to overpower her, anyways.” 
“And who’s to say you won’t hide the truth from us?” Gabriel queries. “We may be willing to hear you out, but you do not have our trust, Lucifer. Unless you can provide a surefire method that proves her innocence will stay intact and that you won’t act irrationally because of your feelings for her, we cannot discuss negotiations further.” 
Jungkook violently grinds his teeth, the gears in his head turning, spiralling as he formulates a plan. “I’ll… um…” He hesitates, a troubled expression etching onto his face. 
That moment of silence serves him the second he needs to collect himself, shutting his eyes with a deep breath, until he opens them, assured of his answer. “If you grant me my role back in Hell, I’ll erase the memories she has of me; if I erase them she won’t remember any of this, she’ll live her life as a regular human none-the-wiser, and therefore will remain innocent. It will eradicate the consequences of me revealing myself and my powers to her as well, and keep the demon Lilith at bay.” 
The loudest gasp in the room must’ve been yours, tears flooding your eyes within seconds, fighting against the two guard dogs restraining you. “No, no! Jungkook, don’t you dare, don’t you dare do this!” 
“Again, how can we be sure your feelings for her will not compromise your actions?” Raphael queries, while Michael brews with anger and Gabriel wonders the same. 
“Me removing our memories of each other should be enough proof, no?” Jungkook miserably replies. “I’m willing to return to my duties, do whatever you tell me and erase all traces of myself from her life; I’m willing to let her go for her vindication despite my feelings for her, and you can instead punish me all you want in return.” 
“No, Jungkook, no!” You incessantly scream, not caring for the physical pain anymore; the tearing of your heart out of your chest felt more excruciating than anything. “You can’t do this, stop it!” 
“Brother, are you truly willing to do this?” Raphael seriously asks, a small sliver of concern in his tone. “You are to erase everything she knows of you, everything you have shared, while you are to remain with your memories and have that pain be a part of your punishment. Are you certain your feelings for her will not compromise this negotiation?” 
Jungkook weakly laughs, exhaling deeply. “I’d never do anything to put her in danger; so yes, I’m willing to do this and never see her again; to keep her safe.” 
Your screams must’ve been loud, and yet Jungkook ignores each and every one of them, watching everyone discuss his words. They ruminate about his offer until Raphael silences the room, even Michael tamed enough to let Raphael take the lead. 
Raphael straightens his posture, projecting his voice. “You’ve heard what he’s offered, fellow angels. If you are in favour of banishing Y/N to hell where she is to suffer for her transgressions with Lucifer and the potential threat she poses on Earth, lift your hand.” 
You watch a good handful agree to that; you couldn’t tell how many angels were in this room, but even a handful appeared to be a lot. 
“Now, those in favour of taking Lucifer’s offer and allowing this girl to live freely as a human?” 
You’re shocked; at least 70% of the room raises their hands, indicating which solution as the victor. But even if that meant sparing your life, you couldn’t bear to endure what came next. 
“No, no no no, don’t let him erase himself from me, don’t let him take my memories!” You screech to nobody in particular, voicing your piercing pain. “Please, Jungkook, don’t do this. You can’t suffer because of me, you can’t!” 
All you hear in that moment is Raphael announcing the final verdict; you’re to live as long as Jungkook erases your memories, and he regains his throne in Hell so long as he’s allowed to endure whatever punishment the Council sees fit. 
Your teary eyes connect with Jungkook during the announcement, conveying a million things that beg him to stop this, to take it all back, to just find another way. But his kind, sweet eyes indicate he’s not going to do such a thing—you feel every vessel in your body cease to function when you see him mouth the faintest, most miserable two words as his only response. 
‘I’m sorry.’ 
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You’re hurled into another shady, white room, heaving from the impact on your pierced stomach. The door’s shut before you can even beg to see Jungkook, spiraling from what’s going to transpire. 
You’ll fight, no, you’ll use absolutely every ounce of adrenaline within you to stop Jungkook. He can’t erase your memories of him, he can’t simply steal the memories that mean everything to you. 
Yes, at one point, you would’ve craved losing all traces of him within yourself to live a sound, peaceful life. But you’re tethered to him now, boundlessly, as though your soul was made for him—to love, cherish and fight for him. Even if it means enduring excruciating pain, you’ll do whatever you must; it’s undeniable what lengths you’re willing to go for him now. 
In your sea of misery, the sound of the door clicking open alarms you, finding an unrestrained Jungkook sneaking his way in. You can hear the incessant drone of the commotion outside, knowing the coliseum of observers must be in a tizzy. 
“Jungkook!” You breathe, forgetting about your bloodied stomach and leaping into his arms. Jungkook swiftly catches you, embracing you as dearly as he would a treasure. His hand weaves through your hair as the other cradles your back, his face burying in your neck. 
“Y/N,” he breathes, basking in you. He draws away to analyze your face, frantic eyes revealing worry. “Are you still in pain? Did they hurt you again?” 
“No, no,” you quickly shake your head, holding his jaw. “Jungkook, please tell me you lied. Tell me you lied and you’re not going to take anything from me. I don’t want to forget you, I don’t want to forget us; I won’t let you.” 
You couldn’t bear how pathetic you sounded, but who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? You couldn’t believe half of whatever transpired in the last 24 hours, but all you truly believed was the way you felt about Jungkook, this one man who’s holding you like you’re his everything and more, who’s thrown away his entire life for you.
“I know, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He apologizes, running his thumb over your cheek. “But I promise, I’m doing this for us, I really am.” 
You notice the deflection in his words, sorrow flooding your alreasy miserable features. “You’re still going to do it? You’re going to take everything we had away from me?” Anger replaces your sadness soon, unbelieving of him right now. You touch your feet to the ground and force space between you two, refusing him. “No, you can’t do this, you fucking can’t!” 
Jungkook approaches you carefully, holding a finger to your lips. “Y/N, shh, let me explain, okay? It’s not what you think.” 
Opening your mouth to counter him, you’re interrupted by the door opening again, revealing a furtive, distraught Raphael. 
“Brother,” he urgently calls Jungkook, rapidly shutting the door behind him. “Michael nearly had my head for suggesting I visit you rather than him. Do you truly understand what you are to do? Erasing her memories will not absolve her of her eternal punishment, she will still be reborn into another lifetime. You are only delaying the inevitable.” 
“No, Raphael, I’m allowing an innocent human to live out the rest of her life without the burden of me.” Jungkook reasons. “I understand the consequences, I understand everything; just please, let me do this. Hold off Michael for now and I promise I’ll hold up my end.” 
Raphael grits his teeth, taking one good look at you, then at Jungkook, his eyes burning with a myriad of emotions; the only distinct one is exhaustion. “Fine, I can only grant you five minutes.” 
Raphael turns on you both and disappears in the blink of an eye, leaving you and Jungkook alone again—you regain your ability to fight. 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare—” 
“Shh, shh,” Jungkook coos, taking your face in his palms. “Angel, listen to me, I’m not going to take away your memories.” 
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to speak. “Wh-what?” 
“I’m not doing it. I’m not taking away what we had to appease those fucks, okay? I won’t bow down to them, especially when they think they’re right when they’re wrong.” Jungkook seethes, his eyes more sincere than ever. “I’m going to pretend like I erased them from you, we’ll have you sent back to Earth while I find a way to undo your eternal punishment.” 
Your head practically spins, the room far too small for you to breathe in. “Wait… you lied? You won’t erase my memories? Won’t they figure out—” 
Jungkook, despite the situation, actually cracks a devilish grin. “I’m Lucifer, angel, I can do anything, and I will for you.” 
You digest everything slowly, holding a stressed hand to your forehead. “But I’ll be sent back to Earth, I’ll be without you, Jungkook. And I’ll be human; one human life on Earth is nothing compared to your immortal, celestial one.” 
Jungkook’s face softens. “I know, I know it won’t be the same. But please, let me do this, okay? I promise, I pinky-promise I’m going to find a way to undo your punishment, to make sure you live a long, happy life without me.” 
“There’s no guarantee you’ll find anything, Jungkook. This has been going on for entire lifetimes… who knows how long you’ll take to find something?” You exasperate. “You can’t say goodbye… you can’t say goodbye to me like this.” Your grip his hands on your face, shaking your head with vehement denial. “Don’t send me back, please don’t send me back without you, Jungkook, please.” 
Jungkook breathes in strongly, composing himself. “I’ll make sure angels never bother you, but if they do, act like you don’t know me, okay?” He explains, choosing to neglect the way you beg him to come with you, and continuing. “I know it’s going to hurt, which is normal because even if I did go through with erasing myself from your memories, you’ll still feel like something’s missing. So it’s alright if you’re sad for a bit, but don’t think of me, Y/N. Don’t cry over me, don’t dream of me or miss me. Make yourself forget me and meet someone new, build a life for yourself and live the way you choose.” 
“Stop it, stop!” You attempt to shove him away, even whacking his chest, but Jungkook goes on, silently enduring the pain while maintaining a calm facade for you. 
“Accept yourself, all of you—even the dark parts you hate. Don’t apologize for who you are to anyone, don’t hide your beauty because you doubt your self-worth, and don’t ever let anybody cage you in.” Jungkook declares passionately, holding you desperately. “You’re my angel, baby, you’ve got wings… and I know you’ll fly only if you let yourself.” 
Jungkook leans down to seal your lips for a deep, consuming kiss. He endearingly connects your foreheads afterwards, even entwines your little pinkies together to bind his promise, and all you can do is cry and plead, devising ways to run from this room, to valiantly refuse him, to tear down his house of cards, but you’d only cause Jungkook more harm—puts all his efforts to waste. 
So you cry. You cry, wail and sob as Jungkook presses a meaningful kiss to your forehead and whispers to you one last time, “I love you, Y/N,” he softly says, your heart wrought with despair, your chest collapsing with unbearable agony. Your body is overcome with a bright, bright light, and you can’t do this, you can’t. 
“Jungkook!” 
His silky smooth voice serenades you before you feel every particle in your body slowly fade away, his last words your only salvation. 
“Y/N… Fly.” 
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“Bitch, you need to come out more. This Halloween party is going to be huge and you better show up in something slutty.” 
“I don’t know, Mads, I’m not really up for a party.” 
“Please, you haven’t been up for anything for months, Y/N. Seriously, what the hell happened to you over the summer? It’s really worrying me, babes.” 
“Nothing… I… just… my night terrors. I haven’t been getting much sleep because of them and I’m too tired for a party.” 
“Awh, well, alright then. You know I value your health over anything. If you need someone to stay the night with you you’ll call me, right?” 
“Of course, Mads, thanks.” 
You abruptly end the call, leaning back on the maple bench you warm up as dried, orange leaves scatter around your feet. Inhaling a deep breath of the fresh, autumnal air, you steal a moment to enrich your lungs with much-needed oxygen. 
Only a single moment, though, before the hole in your heart reminds you of how hollow you really are, and no oxygen will remedy that.
Heartless; that’s what you were. As though somebody had torn out your heart and you now merely survive as a husk, unable to feel anything. Agony wasn’t a strong enough word, not even excruciating. The kind of pain you’ve felt for the last three months left you numb; numb to sensation, to feeling, to anything. 
You barely noticed when the season changed, let alone retained a single article of academic knowledge when your classes restarted. The semester blurred, much like everything else around you as it began to rain outside, and it dripped all over your hair and face, your jacket and shoes. 
You didn’t bother drying yourself or ducking under a building; nothing bothered you much these days. You grab your bag, rise up from your seat, and steadily stalk towards your car you’d parked somewhere on campus. 
Climbing in, you toss your bag in the passenger seat, simply sitting behind the wheel. You don’t turn on your car, don’t reach inside for your keys. You merely… sit, wallow, exist, things you do often these days. 
It’s in your sitting that your radio suddenly turns on, playing a static version of ‘Devil In Her Heart’ by The Beatles—a miserable smile paints your lips, gripping your steering wheel. 
“One of your favourites, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing the lump clogging your throat. “Is it because of the actual song or because you remember it played the first night we met?” 
You don’t get an answer, you never do. But you know he’s there, you know it’s him, you know he communicates with you sometimes. 
It’s been three agonizing months since you had to leave Jungkook. For the first month, losing him obliterated such a large part of you, you didn’t leave your bed for weeks. 
After waking up soundlessly in your apartment once you’d been casted out of heaven, it was as though your life hadn’t changed at all since you left—except that Jungkook was gone. 
The loss of him was so agonizing, so soul-crushingly debilitating, basic human function wasn’t in your vocabulary anymore. You neglected your family and friends’, ignored their concerns, drove yourself into the ground by refusing to stand on your feet and feed yourself, let alone find a shred of happiness in anything. 
Your night terrors even returned, haunting you nearly every night, recalling the ghastly scenes of your blood staining the purity of heaven, the traumatizing image of Jungkook handing over his freedom and autonomy to his despicable brothers. 
Jungkook’s words constantly ran through your head, his words that angered you and yet kept you from ridding yourself of the pain forever. He envisioned so many passionate, enriching things for you—to saturate your life with all the possibilities he convinced himself his absence would grant you. 
Turns out he was wrong. 
But you couldn’t waste the chance he gave you by taking the easy way out. You had to live, you had to endure this—that didn’t ease the pain by even a sliver. 
It started in the second month, when your appearance had severely changed, when you couldn’t recognize who stared back at you in the mirror anymore, when you could barely catch a single night of sleep with the amount you screamed yourself awake. Your parents had even visited you, fed up with your lack of communication, devastated by your mental health compromising your physical health. You returned to your bedroom where your mother slept in your bed, finding some feathers scattering it, contemplating when you or she possibly tore one of the many cushions Jungkook claimed you had. 
You paid it no mind, chalking it up to your mother or depressed delirium. 
Another day, you found the milk already taken out of your fridge when you scavenged inside it for breakfast. You’d convinced yourself you’d simply forgotten you ever took it out. 
The next time, when your phone buzzed with a notification, revealing that you’d been tagged in a photo by an unknown user and clicked on your screen, you found that it led to a dead end. You constantly refreshed wondering if your Wifi simply died, but your lights all of a sudden flickered, and you nearly screamed when the cushions on your couch tore open, launching feathers in every feasible direction. 
You watched as the fluffy white things slowly cascaded down to the ground, wondering what could possibly be happening to you… until it all came crashing down. 
The feathers… when you and Jungkook first tussled in your bedroom and he tore your pillow open, causing dozens of feathers to litter your room. 
There was only one answer—it’s him.
Soon after, it was your car randomly playing his favourite songs. It was suggestions to his favourite restaurants open on your laptop, being drawn to his favourite places in town. Then it was the playful, harmless pet names etched into the steam on your bathroom mirror, ‘human’, ‘angel’, ‘my baby’. They were little signs of him, little anecdotes that he was real, that he can see you, maybe even hear you. 
Does he watch you? From his throne in hell? Is he still looking for a way out of your punishment? You wonder millions of things constantly. Is he being punished right now? Is he suffering for you? Has he been caught and everything you’re hoping for has already been taken away from you? 
You lean back in your car seat, fighting the violent tears threatening to spill. “I’m not going to that stupid party, Jungkook. I’m not fucking going.” You deny him, knowing that he wants you to go, that he wants you to live your shitty life as though there’s any happiness to be found in it. “I’m not going to fucking live my life when you’re not here, you asshole. There’s nothing happy in my life without you, okay? I’m not gonna cram myself into some slutty angel costume and grind against sweaty womanizing frat boys; they’re not you, Jungkook, they’re not you!” 
Your outburst causes you to smack your dashboard, faltering your head on your steering wheel and wallowing in your self-loathing. Everything felt as though it was imploding from inside you, as though your soul would never find peace or joy. 
The sound of your window being etched into catches your attention, seeing the text ‘go’ inscribed in Jungkook’s impeccable hand-writing. You sigh, nibbling your bottom lip to keep your emotions at bay. “Nothing good will come from me going, Jungkook.” 
Again, your window reveals a new message. ‘For me?’ 
Swallowing thickly, a bitter laugh spills out of you, draping your arms over your steering wheel and using every ounce of your strength to not smash your head against it. You feel insane, borderline lunatic communicating with Jungkook like this, but it oddly fills you with even a semblance of comfort, wiping at your mascara-smudged eyes. 
“Fine,” your voice cracks, sniffling again. “I’ll go, but only for you.” 
‘Pinky promise?’ 
That, is the only thing that festers a hint of a laugh from you, recalling the precious night you taught him how to make one. If only you could go back…
“Okay, pinky promise.”
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Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, you stare at the unnecessarily gargantuan frat house from its porch. The music bumps far too loudly, its bass practically vibrating the floorboards. You endlessly fidget with your fingers, impatient feet wiggling in your pearly heels. 
Your costume feels too tight; its corset-style top accentuated your breasts and showcased your shoulders, your knee-high skirt frilly and embroidered with crystals. Large wings decorate your open back, and a halo sits pretty atop your head on a headband. 
This is too much, you shouldn’t have done this. You shouldn’t have called Madison and let her handle your costume, because the pit in your stomach regarding meeting new people after being anti-social for months only grows deeper and darker inside you. 
You nearly make a run for it until Madison catches you, scolding you with her prettily coloured and gem-ridden eyes that match her faerie costume. 
“Oh no, missy, you’re getting in there before I kick your ass with my faerie magic.” 
You wince, recalling a certain conversation. “Angels actually outrank faeries, Mads.”
She scrunches her features. “According to who?” 
“Nevermind.”
“Whatever, you’re getting inside and having the time of your life, no excuses!” 
 Anxiety fills you at every possible turn once you’re submerged in the dancing, bustling bodies. The smell of weed and vape are so pungent you grimace every two seconds, and everyone reeking of alcohol or sweat doesn’t improve your experience, either. 
“C’mon, have a drink!” Madison encourages you once she’s dragged you to the kitchen, offering fruit punch very obviously spiked with copious amounts of alcohol. 
“Oh, no–I don’t think so.” You deny her, attempting to be polite, but a little voice in your head tells you otherwise. 
‘He wanted you to live your life… to unapologetically be yourself.’
Inhaling a nervous breath, you grab the red solo cup from Madison’s hand and down the entire thing, feeling the alcohol burn your throat. You falter against the counter behind you, chest inflating and deflating as you let the liquor invade your system. 
You suddenly feel… lighter, almost calmer. Your head storms less and the party appears livelier, not scarier. You fish yourself another cup of the fruity, boozy concoction, chugging it as though it were water. You take another drink, and another, before your brain begins pirouetting, loopy enough to actually smile at Madison when she comments on you finally earning a fun bone back in your gloomy body. 
Every muscle is suddenly enriched with energy, a buzzing desire to move, to sway around, to dance. Madison practically reads your mind, hauling your ass onto the dance floor with a hoot and holler that genuinely excites you. 
The raunchy music becomes your only muse, alcohol keeping your mind empty and your body swinging. You can’t believe how wasted you already feel, can’t believe the fun you’re having. You catch yourself laughing, smiling, singing—all things you’d lost the ability to comprehend ever since… 
Your favourite track suddenly blares from the gigantic speakers, whooping along to the body-grinding lyrics with Madison as she hypes you up. 
“Hell yeah, Y/N! Dance that shit out!” She cheers, smacking your ass when you spin around for her. “I’m so glad to see you having fun, this is exactly what you needed!” 
Far too lost in yourself, you don’t even register Madison introducing you to a random guy, who happens to be smoking hot. Your drunk mind conjures up something to say to him; a botched introduction, a shitty pick-up line, frivolous questions, you’re not sure, but this man knows how to touch you, and his hands are tempting. 
You cling around his neck, focusing on the dancing more than flirting with him, drowning in the beat of the blood-pumping music. It isn’t until you feel the guy’s hands moving elsewhere, and his face suddenly closing in on your lips, does your brain decide to finally work. 
He’s going to kiss you, and your system… rejects that; it feels wrong. You instinctively push him away. 
Clutching a hand to your forehead, it’s as though your alcohol-haze clears up, finally unearthing the rational part of your mind. Your eyes dart around you, unfamiliar with the scene. What are you doing? Why are you partying at a random frathouse with people you don’t even know? Why were you letting a random himbo run his hands all over you? 
Just when the thought crashes down on you, the frat boy wraps his hands around your waist and invites you back, attempting to plant his lips on you again. You panic, frantically forcing him away. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” You profusely apologize, shoving your way through the crowd for space, air, something. You practically claw your way to the entrance, not even caring about Madison or where your other friends could be. 
You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn't be having fun and indulging in alcohol, greed and lust. This isn’t you, none of this erases or fills the hole in your heart, none of this remedies the permanent black hole your soul was lost in. 
This only proves exactly what’s haunted you for the last three months; you’re a sinful person that has a demon residing within her. 
Your mind spins with thoughts of Jungkook, wondering what he could be thinking seeing you like this, seeing you enjoying yourself without him. Maybe it was fun for five seconds, but you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve anything after the chaos your mere existence has caused, the trouble and grief you’d brought upon him. 
He could be suffering for you right now, and that thought makes you sick to your stomach, fighting the bile crawling up your throat. 
Heart racing and lungs desperate for air, your frantic feet carry you out into the streets, pacing God knows where. You just need to clear your head, you need to grasp what the hell you’re doing and who you think you are, barely recognizing the person you just were. 
In all your thinking, you don’t consider checking both ways before stepping out into the road, attempting to flee the party, to get so far away nobody could chase you and beg you to be somebody you’re not, to convince you you’re deserving of anything good when really, you aren’t. 
Unexpectedly, all you hear is a blaring horn, see the blinding headlights of a speeding car before you can sneak a glance at it. The second you do, you know it’s over, only a few feet between yourself and the racing vehicle. 
You inhale a deep, shocked breath, limbs too frozen to move. You want to move, or do you? Do you perhaps deserve this? Is this really all you’re meant to amount to in life? Is this how it miserably ends? 
You decide to… accept that fate, accept that this impact will most likely shatter your spine or crack your head open on the pavement below. 
You shut your eyes, inhale a deep breath, ready to meet your end… but the impact never comes.
Instead, you feel arms wrap around your body and swiftly turn you out of the way, clutching you to their much larger body. The movement felt as smooth as butter, prying your eyes open to observe your saviour, and nearly collapsing. 
Fear floods your system, knowing you must be seeing things, or must be in some sort of limbo between life and death, because there’s no way… no way in Hell you’re... 
“Hey, angel.” 
You swallow harshly as you peer up at Jungkook, still snug in his arms. He feels reals, he feels like flesh and bone and your initial reaction is to shove him away, taking several steps back. “No… impossible. This is impossible… this can’t be you… you’re an angel, aren’t you? I’ll kick your ass!”
Jungkook wets his lips, slowly tucking his hands in his black jean pockets with a laugh; a black shirt and matching leather jacket hug his brawny frame, too. His gaze is soft as he regards you, lips slightly curved into your favourite smile. “It’s me, angel.” 
Blinking once, twice, three times doesn’t erase the image of him. For a second, you think you’re sincerely hallucinating, chalking this up to whatever hardcore crap somebody dumped in the fruit punch. Another minute goes by, and he doesn’t vanish, simply standing there as he patiently waits for you. 
All of a sudden, tears wet your eyes, throat swelling with powerful, undeniable emotion as the realization hits you. “Jungkook?” 
He shows off that bright, sexy grin of his, tonguing his lip ring. “Yes, angel?” 
Your entire system is overwhelmed with pure rapture, feeling ten times lighter. Your heels clack over the pavement as you break out into a sprint, Jungkook happily holding out his arms for you. His joyful grin only brings more tears to your eyes, immediately hopping into him and feeling him effortlessly catch you. He squeezes the life out of you as sobs escape you, completely drowning in the disbelief that he’s actually here… he’s here.
“Jungkook… Jungkook…” you cry into his neck, attacked by all the familiar things you couldn’t bear missing anymore. His scent, his warmth, his strong body, his cold piercings, his protective hands that hugged you as though he’d been in the same pain as you. 
“Yeah… it’s me, Y/N… it’s me.” Jungkook breathes as he cradles you tightly, stroking your hair, his voice thick with emotion, too. He inhales the fragrance of your hair, feeling his tense body relax before he draws away, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. 
“How… how are you here? How can you be here?” A barrage of questions wreak havoc on you, only sated by Jungkook shushing you. 
“Shh, let’s talk somewhere else, yeah?” He suggests, and you nod vehemently with a sniffle, not wasting the opportunity to tightly embrace him once again as Jungkook walks your entangled bodies down the street.
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Jungkook lets your feet touch the ground after strolling the streets with you, taking his offer to seat yourself just outside a park, where he, too, takes his seat on a bench—his eyes never leave you. 
“You know, I know I call you an angel, but I never thought I’d actually see you looking like one.” He comments as he leans back, crossing his leg over the other with an amused gaze. “A hot one, too.” 
You muster the strength to laugh, sniffling away the last of your ugly tears. You slowly bite your lip, eager eyes flickering all over his unchanged, sinfully hot appearance. His hair wasn’t long anymore, rather cut shorter and styled impeccably, his ears showcasing pretty earrings that dangled deliciously by the sides of his face, maybe even sporting thicker muscles.
“You look different,” you note with a forced smile, skittish next to him. You weren’t sure how to act, too in awe of his current presence to care about your behaviour. 
“You too, angel. Good different.” He returns the compliment, leaving you to pick at your nails, unsure of what to say. 
“Jungkook…” You begin, clearing your clogged up throat. “How… how are you here?” 
Jungkook clicks his tongue, contemplatively tapping the back of the bench he drapes his bulky arms over it. “Well, it’s a long story, but I basically used my good looks and undeniable charm to get my way through.” He flashes you a pearly white smile, causing you to laugh, ignoring the moisture flooding your eyes. 
“I’m serious, Jungkook. How are you here… how can you even talk to me right now?” 
Jungkook weightily sighs, leaning his head back to stare at the star-less sky above. “I was able to make a deal to come see how you were doing, look for signs of Lilith coming out, observe whether your memory loss is still ‘in-tact’.” Jungkook air-quotes, his expression falling. “But really… I just wanted to see you… I needed to.” 
The ache in your chest burns you deeply, grinding your teeth to subdue the pain. “Why?” 
Your whisper is so quiet, Jungkook faces you, his doe eyes just as beautiful as you remembered. “Y/N… I’ve been seeing everything; I knew you were going to let that car hit you.” 
Embarrassed, you clear your throat, breaking eye contact with him. “Everything?” 
“Everything.” He confirms. “I thought you’d eventually heal, that time would treat you right and you’d forget about me. But I couldn’t see you so upset anymore, I had to see you. I convinced the Council and the Big Man upstairs that I was just checking up; that they at least owed me that for the shit they’ve put me through.” 
Your lips threaten to tremble, uselessly picking at the end of your dress to contain your emotions. “What did they do to you, Jungkook?” You tentatively ask, sniffling. “How did they… punish you?” 
Jungkook swallows at that, hardening his expression as he stares elsewhere—his desolate, traumatized eyes are enough to tell you his story. “You don’t want to know.” 
The information shatters you, sobs collecting at the back of your throat, fresh tears staining your cheeks. 
When Jungkook sees you, sympathy overwhelms him. He carefully reaches out his hand, slowly clasping yours in your lap—you jolt at first, but the sensation melts you, tentatively clutching him back. 
“I also came because… I wanted to tell you that I’ve tried everything, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks seriously, softly admiring how your stunning features are like stars creating the gorgeous constellations that is your face. “I had one of my best investigative princes of Hell Hobi look into it. I searched and searched myself… and there’s no way out of this for us, angel. There’s no way for me to stop your eternal punishment.” 
That truth pierces your chest, but it’s already hollow, leaving you to simply nod, simmering with the news. “I had a feeling.” 
Jungkook runs his thumb over the back of your hand, softening his voice. “I’m sorry… angel. I’m so sorry, I promised you.” 
“It’s not your fault.” You shrug him off, wiping away a stray tear. You build up the courage to connect your eyes, plastering a small smile on. “It’s okay.” 
Jungkook slightly smiles, but it’s sad too, releasing your hand to smooth over your hair, affectionately stroking it. He simply looks at you, his eyes communicating millions of things, unable to decipher what he feels. You remain quiet, too, only left to fall deeper into his abyss, no matter how macabre your fate. 
“I’ll never be okay with this.” He says, struggling to maintain his composure. “I’ll never be okay… being away from you… watching you suffer so much that you’d contemplate ending your own life.” 
You lean into his touch, breathing in his scent. “Me neither.” 
Jungkook traces a strand of your hair, skimming down to play with your earring instead, his look full of longing. “I spent everyday in my own personal hell… watching you.” 
You yearn to be closer to him, shuffling slightly, setting your hand over his toying with your jewelry. 
“I couldn’t bear to watch it, I couldn’t… I couldn’t accept it. I knew I’d told you to forget about me, to live as if I never existed, but I also knew you were hurting, and I couldn’t watch you suffer. I sent messages to help you, to help ease your pain—I wanted you to hold onto the hope that you weren’t alone.” 
Taken by his words, you understand them, nodding for him. Jungkook hesitates cupping your jaw, but does it anyway, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. His sorrowful look, his pleading eyes tell you enough; he missed you just as much as you missed him, and the pain he felt was identical. 
Nearly moving to fit into his arms, Jungkook winces, hesitantly retracing. His expression is riddled with contempt, grinding his teeth. “I’m not… I don’t know what to do. I can’t change anything, and I know I have to leave you again, but I can’t… I can’t move on without you.” 
His troubled face floods you with sympathy, his clenched fists and rigid body pushing you to speak. “Then just… don���t, Jungkook.” 
He furrows his brows. “I have to… it’s the only option.” 
“It isn’t,” you whisper, capturing his attention. You feel incredibly vulnerable, but wear your heart on your sleeve, bearing all there is behind your ribcage; a tattered heart and broken soul that still loves him. “Condemn me, Jungkook, and we can see each other… we won’t have to be apart.” 
“Y/N—” 
“Jungkook,” you call him, grasping his hand with both of yours tightly, sending him a reassuring smile. “We’ve already had this argument, but we’re not meant to be apart. Our story, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s still ours. We get to relive our story as much as we want. Even if it means we start over, even if it means suffering the same fate and pain over and over again, none of it overpowers the gift of getting to love each other.” You speak passionately, searching his eyes deeply. 
“We get to fall in love so many times, and getting to love you is the best thing I’ll ever do. So it’s okay, it’s okay if we’re destined to be ripped away from each other, because there is something so powerful about being able to find our way back, to fight for our love and what we have. I don’t care if I’m reborn several times over, I don’t care if we suffer in each lifetime, because it just means our love transcends that—it transcends space and time and even the workings of the universe. It means we’re unbreakable, and if that’s the case then I’ll gladly keep living in an endless loop of punishment, Jungkook, just to fall in love with you.” 
Jungkook’s awestruck, his face etched with shock before he softens with realization, eyes glistening with emotion. “Do you mean that, angel?” 
“Of course I do,” you laugh despite your tears. “You’re worth the cycle of punishment, you’re worth that and so much more; and if I get to spend an eternity proving that to you, loving you, then I wouldn’t want anything else.” 
Jungkook decreases some of the space between you two, his tone grave. “But your life, Y/N. Your home, your family, your friends… you’ll lose it all.” 
“All I need is you, Jungkook.” You assure him, leaning forward so that your foreheads connect, soaking up every ounce of his comforting presence. “Only you, nothing else.” 
Jungkook inhales a deep breath as he absorbs this moment, too, intertwining your fingers together. “I’ll get us time,” he swears. “I promise, I’ll get us time in Hell together before anyone finds out you’re even there.” 
You smile warmly, nibbling your bottom lip. “Don’t worry; I may be wrong in trusting the devil but I trust you, Jungkook. Any day.” 
Jungkook’s grin is utterly gleeful, adoring the way his lip piercing curves along with his mouth. He suddenly holds out his hand, wiggling his littlest finger. “Pinky promise?” 
Giggling with wet eyes, you nod, entwining your pinky with his. “Pinky promise.” 
Jungkook happily seals the vow, sliding his hand over your cheek and minimizing the space between your faces, teasing you with a hot breath. You wait for his kiss, diving in for it. Jungkook touches your lips together for a faint second before skimming past, whispering by your ear. “Close your eyes, angel.” 
And in that moment, you clear your heart and your mind, completely handing over yourself to Jungkook, because nothing would ever mean more to you than he does. Your life was more than college parties, a plain-jane job and the holidays now; your life was Jungkook and the irrevocable bond you shared with him. 
Your story was a symbol of something profound, something so invincible and everlasting, even time and space couldn’t destroy it.
So, fluttering your eyes shut, you clutched Jungkook’s hands for dear life, feeling a warm light envelope you before you felt the gentlest, most delicate peck to your lips by his own. Smiling, you disappeared into oblivion before you could return the kiss.
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EPILOGUE. 
Jungkook watches the hum-drum of boring human life in his unnecessarily large throne room, tapping his foot in an agitated rhythm. The sound echoes throughout his dark chamber of sin, his cheek resting in his palm with his legs spread out in his royal seat. 
A knock to his door disrupts his regular flow, annoyingly sighing. “Whoever the hell that is, it better be something good.” 
Upon his words, Jungkook’s shocked to hear his doors open, scoffing at whatever form of gall his visitor dares to possess. Jungkook rises from his seat, turning around to reprimand the low-life, until his expression is caught with immediate surprise, his eyes completely blown out. 
“I think I’m much better than just something good, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs again, but this time with no malice. He tongues the inside of his cheek, feeling an insurmountable amount of pride and joy flood his chest. An insatiable wave of lust washes upon him seeing the sinful dress and gorgeous face in his doorway, eyes too playful for their own good. 
“Well well well,” He smirks, perching his elbow on his throne, completely, and utterly taken by you. “If it isn’t my one and only angel.” 
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286 notes · View notes
jeonqkooks · 2 days ago
Note
fluff 7 + angst 18 obs (or any other jk story on your masterlist)
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"My mom adores you." + "All you had to do was stay."
pairing: jungkook x f!reader
rating: PG
genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, fluff but to be fair this is obs so everything is angsty in hindsight 😭 but i tried, a couple of swear words here and there, one mention of childbirth lol
word count: 1.8k
vote for the revenge dick 😈 here!
series masterpost ⊹ playlist ; moodboards ; taglist
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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Jungkook suddenly switches off the TV, interrupting your Goblin binge session. You turn to look at him quizzically, but he just swings a leg over both of yours and pulls you closer until your hips are flushed together. He holds your body down with his limbs, looking into your eyes with a sickeningly sweet glint in his.
“Hey, pretty,” he coos, so suspiciously sappy out of nowhere that you have to squint your eyes at him. What does he want now? What motive does he have for disrupting your weekly thirsting over Gong Yoo and Lee Dong Wook?
Jungkook presses a wet kiss to your cheek and squeezes your waist affectionately before he speaks. 
“As you know,” he begins, “my mom is coming to visit this weekend–”
“Absolutely not.”
He scooches back a little, mouth hanging open, flabbergasted at your swift shut down when he has barely gotten more than a few words out. “Wha– You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“Yes, I do.” You give him a look and try to move away, but his meaty thighs are caging you in and he’s just clinging to you like a freaking koala that it’s hard to budge a single inch. “Stop trying to make me spend time with your mother. That woman terrifies me.”
At this, he frowns. “What has she ever done to you?”
“She hates me,” you deadpan, and watch his expression shift into one of confusion.
Although, in the name of completely unfiltered and unadulterated truth, you don’t actually think Jungkook’s mother hates you so that was probably a bit of a reach.
“What are you talking about? My mom adores you.”
“Remember the last time we visited your parents and I had to leave early because I forgot I had a paper due? You went back with me and she sent me a text saying “If you take my son away from me again, it’s on sight.””
“She what?” he asked with an eyebrow quirked, pink lips curling up steadily fast to display his pearly whites. “She said “it’s on sight”? She actually typed that in a text?”
You nod begrudgingly, and your boyfriend’s first reaction upon hearing that his mother would practically beat your ass, is to laugh. The gall he has to chuck a fucking Elmo laugh at you, eyes turning into slits as he throws his head back to cackle loudly like a child, clearly amused at the revelation. On top of you, his body shakes with utter glee, sending vibrations through you – who is not entertained at all. Nope. Not one bit. 
“Oh,” he says, actually wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, and muses. “So that’s why she asked me what it meant. You have to admit, that’s funny.”
Your hand sneaks down his back to pinch his ass so hard, you hope it leaves a bruise. “The hell it is! Your mom basically promised me violence!”
“Obviously she didn’t mean it. She just wants to know what lingo the kids are using these days. That’s her sense of humor!”
“It doesn’t translate through text!” you protest, but the lack of personal space prevents you from being as dramatic as you’d like. “Moms should not be using slang!”
“Well.” He shrugs and boops your nose sweetly, but you just scrunch it and frown like an angry cat. “Not my fault you had to leave. All you had to do was stay.”
“No, all you had to do was stay.” Jamming an accusing finger into that hollow spot beneath the column of his throat, you crack an evil smile when he chokes on air. “I told you I could’ve taken the train to the city by myself.”
“Um, excuse me for coming with my girlfriend to make sure she didn’t get murdered travelling alone.”
“Oh gosh. My hero,” you say sarcastically, placing a hand over your heart and rolling your eyes. “Don’t act so chivalrous. You know that was because you didn’t want to hear more grandchildren talk.”
“Oh, and you did?” he asked, voice full of sass even though he knows you’re right. The trip was only a few days, but it felt like much longer. His mother wasn’t dropping very subtle hints about wanting a mini Jungkook around the house. He was overtly annoyed, but she was nothing if not persistent and accustomed to his attitude.
It was kind of awkward, but you didn’t give it much thought. Every parent does that anyway.
“I did not,” you confirm, and stare at him blankly. “Your mother talking about me pushing a child the size of a watermelon out of my vagina was very weird. She said that in front of you, your dad and your brother at the dinner table. And now you want me to schedule a one-on-one session with her? Uh-uh, I’ll pass.”
“Come on. Please? You just have to keep her company for one day. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have that recording with one of the seniors. Hmm?” He pouts, and you have just a teeny tiny urge to kiss those slightly chapped lips. Then he whips out his stupid eyes, the huge ass Bambi eyes that always look like there’s an entire galaxy within them. But that isn’t even the thing that does you in. It’s the subsequent words he pulls out of his ass that you’re sure don’t hold much weight. “Besides, don’t you want to score points with your future mother-in-law?”
Your lips part slightly and your brain goes haywire. Despite your friends bringing up the topic of marriage from time to time, you haven’t taken a moment to consider family and kids yet. You’ve never imagined yourself walking down the aisle because it is a scary thought – to settle down with someone, to start a family, to grow old with them… To trust that a person wants you enough to vow to love you forever, and for you to want them enough to do the same.
Jungkook’s mother has always been just that to you – his mother. But the words “mother-in-law” imply that one day, she might become a member of your family too, connected by your bond with Jungkook. You know he probably doesn’t fully register what he’s saying. This isn’t something that you two have ever discussed, not seriously anyway.
You and him are both still in school, you’re both young; there’s plenty of time left. You aren’t planning that far ahead into the future relationship-wise, especially with the two of you being career-driven people. Both of whose careers are still so far away from blossoming.
You don’t reckon that that many people a few months into their 20s are prioritizing getting married and settling down anyway. Not unless you’re Kim Taehyung and sometimes you have weird existential musings about life, love, death, and every other thing in between.
Nevertheless, Jungkook’s words are putting thoughts into your head.
You picture Jungkook on his knees, proposing to you. You picture his face when he sees you in a wedding dress for the first time, in front of all your friends and family. You picture your honeymoon – maybe somewhere tropical like Hawaii or the Maldives – with him happy and relaxed, right by your side. You even picture a kid too, one that is the perfect combination of you and him, running around and babbling nonsense…
Your heart flutters and you blush. If you can do it with him, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s tempting enough that you might consider marriage and the whole shebang. Not now, but some day. You reiterate those familiar words in your mind: What will be, will be.
Regardless, it’s like that feeling you get when you go apartment hunting and looking for the right home. With every place you step into, you start to imagine yourself as if you’re already living there. You see your frames and posters on the bare walls, your clothes hanging in the empty closet, your books and little trinkets littering the vacant shelves…
Your brain conjures up a whole life for you, one that’s so irresistible that it takes you approximately five seconds to get attached to. That’s usually how long it takes – a few seconds – for you to grow fond of a life you haven’t lived, a version of you that doesn’t exist yet.
The same thing happens now, as Jungkook’s words echo and your mind, unintentionally, presents you a glimpse of what life could be like with him. An entire future together. A flower-filled path and him, next to you, with a smile that you adore blooming on his face. It feels… attainable. It feels like it’s within your reach.
As the images in your head fade away, you know you’d acquiesce. It’s not his pout that convinces you, nor is it his eyes. It’s not even the cunning way that he saccharifies his voice to make your knees buckle even when you’re horizontal. Jungkook hasn’t persuaded you at all, but your little romanticized daydreams sure have.
“Ugh,” you groan, feigning annoyance, succumbing to his body weight on top of you like you’re boneless. “Fine. I’ll show her around the city. Maybe take her to that café by the waterfr–!”
Jungkook squeals, excitement pouring out of him, and leans down to kiss you deeply. You feel him smile against your lips and this makes you smile too, but he’s positively wrecking your lungs at this point. When the sudden lack of air combined with the added pressure on your chest gets too much, you make a muffled noise against his mouth and move to nudge him off of you.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, still smiling. “I’ll even give you two permission to talk shit about me.”
You scoff and politely decline, as one would a telemarketer. “No, thanks. I just got my hair done. I don’t want your mom to rip it out.”
Jungkook mimics your eye roll from earlier, but then quickly returns to looking at you appreciatively when you shoot him half a glare. When he leans in again, you let him kiss your cheek.
“I’ll give you something else then. What do you want, the moon?” He grins. He then taps his chin a few times and hums, pretending to be in thought. “The stars? How about Saturn?”
You glance sideways at him, and feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips. You can’t help it. He plucks the strings of your heart like he’s playing the harp, and every sound it makes reverberates through you like a love song you could never perfect.
You snatch the TV remote from behind his back and return to your beloved drama, but not before giving him a final kiss.
“Okay, you can give me Saturn.”
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— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 24, 2022]
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kimtaegis · 10 days ago
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jungkook & taehyung being the sweetest around kids ♡ for @jung-koook
cr. namuspromised, qdeoks
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joheunsaram · 25 days ago
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pretty hallucinations (jjk)
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summary: Drunk words are sober thoughts, and now Jungkook knows all of yours — even the ones about him. And you know what they say, once a secret’s out, it’s hard to take it back.
word count- 3.9k 
pairing- best friend!Jungkook x Reader
rating- PG 15
genre- f2l, idiots in love, fluff, slight angst, slight crack
warnings- reader is wasted, jungkook is a softie, SO MUCH PINING, mention of bondage and spreader bars lmfao
a.n- a birthday fic to celebrate my favourite bunny! happy birthday jk! this fic came to me after I read a scene in ten trends to seduce your best friend that had me cackling. read that book if you enjoyed this, that ones a real f2l slow burn hehe
special s/o to @daechwitatamic for beta reading, helping with the summary, and leaving the most hilarious comments on my doc haha I will cherish them forever💕
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
-
The room was spinning. A kaleidoscope of colours twirling in the air and you couldn’t help the bitterness rising through you. This used to be your favourite place, a library you had created after years of collecting your favourite words. Systematically organized, it seemed now that a hurricane had passed through.
Well, after ten drinks, you were nothing less than a hurricane. Books with their once perfect spines laid dog-eared and haphazard. You couldn’t find it. Couldn’t find the perfect words for the moment. There was always supposed to be something for every emotion in your collection.
Some may think losing yourself in fictional words was cowardice, but to you it was a reprieve. Reality was boring. In the real world you were just a nerdy overgrown virgin who would never confess your feelings to a man — to the man. In reality, you would always be the girl who talked big about sex and hid behind bravado instead of ever opening yourself up to the vulnerability that came with it. The real you was a phony.
Stumbling with your fingers wrapped around the bottle of whiskey, you meandered to the opposite wall, pulling romance novels off the shelves. They would have answers for your predicament. Wasn’t that the purpose of them? To show how the characters overcame their fears?
The words blurred but you lost yourself. You were Catherine sharing your love but having it misconstrued, leaving you to misery, a death of a life never fully lived. As you read Heathcliff’s grief, daring you to haunt him, he transformed from the Englishman to someone too familiar, his proper attire morphing to the comfortable baggy black shirts and giant stomping boots. His dark eyebrow manifested a silver barbell, his eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare. Ebony tendrils grew from his fingertips, running up his right arm until they formed shapes as intimate as your breaths. Tiger lillies and eclipses and snakes and clocks and words so dear they played as a melody on your lips.
And then Jungkook’s words transformed from the enraged howling of ghosts to silence, his lips parted in shock as his eyes looked at you with pity. The memory was visceral and it forced your hand to tip the bottle against your lips, your tongue coating in the warm bite of liquor. Yet, it permeated through, the single moment of bravery you had been saving your whole life coming back to haunt you.
He had a friendly arm around you, the two of you laughing at the television screen as the characters finally confessed and Jungkook shook his head, chastising them for not coming clean sooner and saving him the trouble. The innocuous words gave you the courage to share a secret ten years in the making.
A simple I like you.
But unlike the characters who were living their happily ever after, Jungkook sputtered, moving away with an awkward laugh, shattering your heart into a million pieces. The distance was a chasm growing wide with his questions and the lifetime of bravery fizzled much quicker than you anticipated.
“I should’ve never opened my stupid mouth,” you lamented, tossing back another searing gulp, books digging into your back as you stared at nothing. Nothing that spurred into a familiar shadow making you cackle at your imagination. It really was better than reality.
Because in your imagination, Jungkook crouched in front of you smelling like fresh laundry that made you hazy. His fingers caressed your face, moving the curls that had spilled from their usual tight bun atop your head to frame your face. But even an imaginary Jungkook wouldn’t give you your happy ending.
Moving your hair away, he smiled, helping you up. His voice was gravelly when he spoke, a novel rasp that you wanted to pluck from the air and store it next to your array of books.
“Your mouth is not stupid,” he chuckled, an arm around your waist as he moved you from the library to the kitchen. You refused to look at this hallucination, instead focusing on the tiles that you had handpicked for the kitchen. Small white ones. They had a pattern in the middle, cobalt outlines of squares interwoven together to form stars of the skies.
He deposited you on the stool next to the breakfast nook and placed a glass in front of you. Condensation trickled down the glass to the island and before your clumsy hands could do any damage, your figment picked the glass and placed it on a coaster. Of course he knew what to do, imaginary men were perfect.
“I’m not imaginary, Trix,” Jungkook answered your inner monologue, amusement lacing his tone. But his mirth did not placate you, there was no way Jungkook would seek you out after he stomped on your heart. Your best friend was not that cruel. Not intentionally at least.
“Trix are for kids! Don’t call me that,” you whined, your words mumbled by the glass that he held to your lips. With the coldest glare you could manage, you stared at him as you finished the drink, refusing to acknowledge how soothing the cool water felt trickling down your throat.
“But they’re your favourite, Trix,” he retorted, bemused before running a hand over your head. You wanted to chastise your heart for skipping a beat at the platonic touch as he mussed your hair but you couldn’t help it. This always happened. You hated that he used that nickname, an inside joke that did nothing other than give you false hope. It was cute when he started. It made you flush to your toes and stutter over your words, but it was unfair how he could easily give you a pet name when your boyfriends had trouble coming up with anything that didn’t make you wince.
“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” Your voice wobbled as did you when he helped you up, moving you towards your bedroom. Tears still streaked down your face, stuffing your sinuses with regret as you leaned against his infuriatingly hard body.
“I’m taking care of you. I always take care of you,” he answered. “Watch your step.”
His answer made you fume. Why couldn’t you feel this way for Jimin? He was supposed to be your type, flirty and loud and unafraid to go after what he wanted. In comparison, Jungkook was just a shy, awkward teenager who showed more emotions when he lost a game of League. Sure, what if the way Jimin called you sugar was a little cringey, it was better than babe or doll!
“Those are all terrible pet names, Trix,” Jungkook commented, his grin audible even when you refused to look at him. All you could do was weakly punch his arm, missing wildly while he steadied you on your never-ending path to your bedroom.
You missed your bed. Your mattress was the most expensive thing you owned. Jungkook had given you a lot of shit for spending a pretty penny on it, but it was like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and plush that you could just sink in and forget about everything.
And you really needed to forget the humiliation of Jungkook’s rejection.
“I didn’t reject you. You were drunk, Trix. You didn’t mean it,” Jungkook answered your thoughts once again. “Also your bed is very comfy so I promise not to annoy you about wasting money again.”
He was laughing at you and you couldn’t help but grunt, turning around and placing a clumsy hand on his chest as you steadied yourself. Your eyes met his and you hated how you melted a little at their sparkle. He always had the prettiest eyes, round with expressive mocha irises that burned your heart. Even his lashes were pretty, long and curved like he was a newborn fawn made to be fawned at. Gathering your drunken thoughts, you came to a single conclusion.
Honesty. Best case scenario, this Jungkook was just imaginary and would disappear soon. Worst case scenario, he was real and since you had already humiliated yourself, you couldn’t dig a deeper hole.
“I did mean it! I love you, you dumb idiot,” you announced, your words surprisingly clear. Yet Jungkook still laughed, rolling his eyes as he settled you into bed, telling you again that you were drunk. But he didn’t understand and he had to understand.
“I’ve been in love with you since I saw you play in that dumb ultimate frisbee match when you were a freshman. When you lost your cool at that concert when a guy tried copping a feel. When you gave me a hug when my mom was in the hospital and everything seemed okay for a little while. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I’ve always been insanely in love with your stupid, dumb face,” you ranted. Kneeling in front of you, Jungkook’s smile wavered into a concentrated frown, brows bunching together before he was smiling again and shaking his head.
“You love me, but you don’t love love me, Y/N,” he countered, making you groan in exasperation, hand coming to his mouth to silence him. Sometimes you hated him.
“You don’t get it, Jungkook! How do I even–” you sighed loudly, grabbing his shoulders to make him understand. But if your words wouldn’t work, maybe someone else’s would. “It is at moments after I have dreamed of the rare entertainment of your eyes, when (being fool to fancy) I have deemed with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise,” you quoted your favourite poet, eyes stuck on his. “Do you get it now?”
Jungkook stared at you for a moment, awestruck in a way that made you want to lean in and kiss him, but kissing without consent was bad, especially if he was looking for a way to reject you again. You still had at least some of your pride. And then he was laying you back and tucking you in, crushing your heart in his palm till it was dust that pricked your eyes, making them dry and watery all at once.
“We’ll talk about this in the morning, Trix. We shouldn’t when you’re not sober,” said softly, fingers running on your scalp before tracing away your tears. With all the alcohol in your system, your filter was off and all you had was misery.
“Can you at least just stay before you reject me? I need a hug,” you whispered, heartbeat accelerating when he climbed in next to you, engulfing you in his arms. He was so warm. Like your favourite blanket shielding you from the cold in the middle of winter. He needed to know the effect he had on you and even though you were feeling the drowsiness from all that whiskey, you wanted to let him in. He had to understand.
“I know you think I love you platonically. I don’t. I really don’t.”
Jungkook exhaled loudly, moving away so only his forearm acted as a pillow for you. Lying on his side he looked at you, eyes tracing your features as you tried your best to keep yours open.
“You’re drunk. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said finally. With mere inches between you, you felt your face heat, your thoughts pouring over your tongue without your consent.
“Jungkook, do you know what a spreader bar is?” you asked, staring at him as his eyes widened. He blinked slowly a few times before landing on his back, looking straight at the ceiling.
“Jesus… yes, Trix. I know what that is.”
“I want you to use it on me,” you continued, loose-lipped and hazy. There was no chance you’d remember this in the morning so why not just go all out and let him in on your fantasies. “Tie me up and bend me over. Fuck me so hard I forget my name. God, I wanna be pinned under you so bad.”
“Stop. Fuck… stop, please,” he whispered, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek in a way you only saw when he was angry. Was he angry? Is that why even in the dim light of the room you could see his ears slowly turning red?
“Still think I like you platonically?” you asked, tone much more mischievous than you had planned. “Would you choke me? Make me lose my breath as you kiss me or will you be nice and gently hold my jaw when you kiss me? I think about that a lot, you know.”
He groaned, his free arm coming to rest over his eyes. He seemed resigned and somehow that made you grin, especially when he sighed loudly before speaking. “Fucking hell Y/N… please just go to sleep.”
“I wanna feel your tongue between my thighs and—“ Before you could finish, he turned, a hand coming to rest gently over your lips.
“Sleep! You need to go to sleep!” he exclaimed in a panic that made your nerves tingle and your stomach warm.
“Why?” you mumbled against his fingers before he removed them.
“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too,” he replied in a whine that was equal parts adorable as it was surprising. Did he say he loved you too? What a ridiculous concept! You were positive you were imagining him now.
“Wow, you really are a hallucination,” you giggled. This was a nice dream. You liked how all the edges of light were soft in it, how it seemed as if you were floating in bliss. Dream Jungkook was amazing. He felt so real. You wished you never woke up. Especially when exasperated by your chuckles, his arm wound around you and pulled you close, plastering you to his body.
“Does that feel like a hallucination to you?” he rasped, his exhale hitting on your forehead. His comment diverted your attention to the weight poking against your stomach. You wanted to rub up against him but your body felt heavy, powerless against the haze around you.
“Go to sleep now,” he ordered softly and you couldn’t help how your eyelids fluttered shut at his words. Drowning in his scent of fresh lavender laundry, you felt safe and coddled and finally sleepy.
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” you asked, needing the confirmation that the comfort of his arms wouldn’t disappear, even when you sure he was just a figment of your imagination.
“I’ll be here, Trix. Go to sleep.”
“I love you. I really do, you know,” you assured him, getting a giggle in response.
“I’m starting to believe you do, yes.” You felt his lips land on your forehead, so soft and warm that it felt as if falling into slumber was the easiest thing to do. You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling in closer, enjoying the steady beat of his heart as he whispered once again.
“Good night, Y/N.”
—————
Your head was pounding when you woke up. A drummer having its solo, double bass and all. With a groan you opened your eyes to an unmade bed and curtains wide open to the infuriating morning sun. Needles prickling your throat, you say up only to be interrupted by the smell of bacon, the heavenly grease so inviting that your dry mouth watered instantly.
Why was someone making bacon at your home? Last you checked you lived alone.
Slow as molasses, you got out of bed, your eyes zoning onto the glass of water and a few painkillers sat on your bedside table. Without further ado, you drowned the glass, the relief near instant.
And with the relief came the memories. Whiskey. Wuthering Heights. Jungkook. Confessions. Spreader bars. And Jungkook’s words that were no longer so innocent in the morning light.
“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too.”
Holy. Fuck. Was that real? Did Jungkook really just confess to you? Did you really feel him when he pulled you close last night?
All semblance of a hangover dissolved in the sudden adrenaline rushing through you, pumping your heart into a frenzy that propelled your legs to carry you to the kitchen. Jungkook stood at the stove, frying bacon as he hummed something under his breath. You stared at him as he worked undisturbed, frying bacon, before snapping his fingers and rushing to the plastic bag at the end of your breakfast nook.
You had decided to watch him quietly but as soon as he pulled out the red box, laughter bubbled through you, effervescent and fizzling. He stared at you, joining you with his own giggles as he walked over waving the box of cereal.
“Trix for my Trix,” he said with a grin that scrunched his nose and made his eyes disappear. So cute that your heart skipped a beat and your filter disappeared.
“So I made you hard?” you asked, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Perhaps you were still drunk. Jungkook on the other hand just chuckled, bowing his head and running his hand over the nape of his neck. His dark hair fell into his face, covering the blush you loved so much.
“Yeah. Yeah you did,” he confirmed sheepishly.
The silence between you was a little stunted; awkward and too long for people who were meant to be best friends. Before long, Jungkook was distracted by the task of making breakfast, his attention on the pan as he cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, plating them for the two of you. The silence continued as you ate, but you weren’t one to hold your tongue for too long, wanting to just rip the bandaid off and address the very giant elephant in the room.
“Can you please reject me already? This is too embarrassing,” you bemoaned, trying to drown the prickly heat that climbed up your neck with orange juice. Jungkook’s fork paused on the way to his mouth, his eyes large and alert. He swallowed loudly, placed the fork back on his plate and then cleared his throat.
“I… I’m not gonna reject you,” he said softly, his tone so gentle it made you curl your hands into fists to brace yourself for the opposite. “I just… I still can’t believe you love me too…”
You always read about how time slows when you are having a stroke. But you were also meant to smell burnt toast and right now other than the smell of the delicious breakfast in front of you, there was nothing suspicious. Yet, your heart was racing, your palms were sweating and you could feel your legs quivering even when you were sitting down.
“Too?” you asked in disbelief and he nodded, smiling but infuriatingly quiet. Slamming your fist on the table, much to Jungkook’s amusement, you glared at him. “Please spell it out like I spelled it out for you,” you seethed.
“Yes, Trix. I love you. Ever since you walked into my dorm room two days after we met, pulled the plug on my PC, made me lose my ranked game and demanded I go outside and make new friends,” he teased with an eye roll.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes. If you stayed last night instead of running back here and reenacting Doctor Sleep, we could’ve talked it out,” he grumbled, the smile still ever present. With a shake of his head, he stood up, making his way over to you and pulling you up from your seat. Eyes blinking and hands shaking, you looked up at him, your skin burning where it touched you – one hand on the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck. His thumb caressed your jaw as his eyes traced over your face.
You felt light headed, your breaths too quick to catch, each nerve ending sparking relentlessly. You bit your lip in an anticipation that only made Jungkook move slower, leaning closer and closer till his nose was brushing against yours lightly. His lips barely touched yours and you were frozen, relishing his breath on your skin, fingers curling into the material of his shirt on his chest.
“Kiss me,” you requested, earning a giggle from your tease of a best friend.
“Okay,” he whispered, finally sealing your lips. It wasn’t the rough kiss of your fantasies, nor  gentle innocence of your daydreams. It was searing, tilting your world on its axis. It felt like he was breathing fire into you, yet your whole body was erupting into goosebumps. It felt like colours bursting in the wind.
It was life changing and you wanted more.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood on your toes to deepen the kiss and he easily acquiesced, his arms fitting perfectly around your waist. His lips moved against yours, the tip of his nose grazing ever so lightly against your cheek. When you moaned against him, too overwhelmed to see anything but stars, he picked you up and placed you on the table, easily fitting between your legs. With a hand on your neck, his thumb gently pulled at your chin till his tongue met yours, making you shiver so violently that he broke away with a laugh, his forehead resting on yours as he caught his breath.
“More,” you asked and his lips met yours once again. This was better than anything you could've ever imagined. You didn’t know how long you kissed, but all you knew was that you never wanted to stop. Especially when he nipped your lower lip in a way that sent a current zapping all the way down to your toes. And then his lips slowed until he was pecking at you, once, twice, three times, his hands cradling your jaw.
Dazed, all you could say was, “Are you going to fuck me on this table?” and Jungkook laughed, loud and boisterous, hugging you to his chest. And what a great chest it was.
“But don’t I need to go get a spreader bar and some bondage tape for that?” he asked with a grin, kissing your forehead, once, twice, three times.
“I mean… we could do that next time?”
“If you think after years of being in love with you, I’m going to let you have your first time on the kitchen table, you are sorely mistaken, Trix,” he replied, a finger coming up to boop your nose.
“Virginity is a social construct!” you protested, but Jungkook just shook his head, kissing away your complaints.
“You fell in love with a romantic, so let me romance you,” he whispered, hands tangled with yours, his words sending a warmth through you.
You never thought you would be someone who would enjoy being romanced. But when Jungkook drove you to the park for your first date with a picnic he had packed from his early morning grocery run, he proved you wrong. Sitting on the grass with Jungkook’s arm around you, you thought about all the books in your collection, and how with their endless words they still couldn’t capture the glow of your love fulfilled.
Perhaps reality was better than pretty hallucinations after all.
-
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Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I appreciate your feedback! 
Please reblog and check out more stories on my masterlist <3
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caelesjjk · 9 days ago
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sanguine - jjk- part one
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⟶title: sanguine
⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au
⟶ pairing: vampire king!jungkook x human queen fem reader
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst
⟶wc: 10.5k
⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, lots of sexual tension, one kiss, a bit angsty, reader is a badass. No smut for this part my fellow horny bitches, but there is certainly smut in the future.
⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.
Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.
Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?
⟶ authors note: hi friends. this has been a whirlwind of a fic and this is only part one lol. it’s my baby in a way because I’ve had this idea for so long. I started writing it long before my king decided to actually grace us all with his vampire concept for his folio. that only encouraged me more to get this done.
A few shoutouts need to be made because without these people I don’t think I’d ever finished this. @jeonjcngkook jords, not only did you beta the shit out of this, but you’ve been there for me while I’ve written it and listened to me whine and cry for weeks. u have no idea how much it means. @haliiimede for reading through and convincing me that it wasn’t trash and giving me such lovely feedback. And also a huge thanks to @tea4sykes for reading through and encouraging me the whole way, ur the best Kay. @missgeniality siya, you absolute angel, I literally owe you big time for this amazing banner. and thank you for making me a new one when jungkook dropped all the vampire content lol. It’s so stunning.
(Vows found at vampireweddings.blogspot.com)
Alright enough blabbing, please enjoy! Send me all the feedback!
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For the good of the kingdom.
For the good of mankind.
That was what your family kept telling you…no, they insisted that this was the only way.
Your father’s kingdom had become wrought with sickness, famine, and the people were starving. All of the resources available had been drained, there was nothing left.
And so, in a desperate plea for help, your father went to the vampire kingdom in the north, with whom your kingdom shared a border. And while the vampire king was willing to help, he wanted to make sure that this alliance was official and binding. He asked that you marry him to join your kingdoms, and that way there would be no reason for any type of betrayal.
You hated the idea. You fought it with everything that you had. The vampires disgusted you with their lust for blood and their strange habits. It was the worst thing you thought could happen.
But your father was right, it was the only choice your kingdom had left, and you had a duty to the people.
With that realization, is how you find yourself under this gorgeous oak tree in the middle of the night. The stars and moon and a few scattered candles are the only light to be found in this open field.
“Welcome one and all, witnesses to both His Highness the King and ______, princess of the human kingdom to our South, as they pledge their dedication to walk the night together. From the night we come, to the night we go, Cursed or blessed to walk the moonlight alone.”
The wedding dress that is chosen for you to wear is dark crimson, a bloody reminder of just who exactly is standing before you. With full lace skirts that drag against the ground, it’s light, airy even. It feels incredibly soft against your skin as your finger tips brush against the fabric but none of that matters as you still feel like you’re suffocating. It’s the absolute opposite of the dress you imagined yourself wearing on your wedding day but it is tradition here in the vampire kingdom for the bride to wear red.
“Sometimes another soul walks our path, Then two become one, in love everlasting. Come forward, Children of the Blood, And welcome this couple to your brood, Within each other, these two are found, Bear witness as their souls are bound.”
The hardest part of this is that it needs to be believable, and at the same time, the subjects from both kingdoms wanted you and the king to hate each other. So the wedding had to be done with official vows, ones that made it sound like the two of you were in love. It makes your stomach churn as the priest continues to speak.
“Please bring your left wrists forward towards me.” The priest said with a soft smile. Though it was gentle, his fangs are still visible, sending a shiver down your spine.
He takes out a red sash from his pocket and gently ties it around both of your wrists, Jungkook’s cold skin brushes against yours and makes you jump slightly. Though it’s as cold as stone, it’s also as soft as cashmere.
Finally, you allow yourself to look up at the man standing next to you.
You hate that he is so beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful being you have ever seen. Soft, thick, black hair slightly smoothed back away from his forehead, eyes almost as black as his tresses and lips that were sharp and hued pink.
When he catches you staring for a bit too long, he merely smirks and turns his attention to you.
“Sorry.” The king mouths to you, no sound coming from his mouth. You look back towards the priest quickly. He holds out a golden goblet beneath your bound wrists.
“Stand now as ye will stand forever, Like this crimson cloth your hearts are tethered, This goblet's contents are your symbols of devotion, So take the rings from the Goblet.”
Your hand shakes violently as you reach into the cup to retrieve the silver band that is to be placed on Jungkook’s right finger. You swallow thickly as you toy with the silver band in between your fingers, your pulse quickening because you know that not only can Jungkook hear the beating sounds of your heart, but all the other vampires present as well. Jungkook does the same with your wedding ring but with more confidence in his motions.
The ring he holds for you is a silver band as well, but it also contains a dark shaded ruby, cut into the shape of a blood drop or possibly a tear in the case of this marriage. But even then, it was stunning.
“______, please repeat these vows after me:
I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”
These vows had been written hundreds of years ago, meant for two vampires binding themselves together…not a vampire king and someone like you who is so very human. But you say them anyway, your heart still hammering in your chest as you turn your body towards the king and take his hand into yours, noticing just how soft his hands are before you slip the ring onto his awaiting finger.
“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back…” You pause when your voice shakes for a moment, “and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”
You place the ring onto his finger and release the breath you have been holding the entire time. Jungkook smiles and takes your hand into his.
“King Jungkook, please repeat the vows to your bride.”
Jungkook waits a moment for you to look up at him, his eyes hold yours and his thumb rubs gently over the back of your hand. You wish you could pull it away…even more, you wish you wanted to pull it away.
“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.” His voice is alluring and even, as if he isn’t nervous about this at all. He slides the ring down your finger and lets it sit perfectly against your warm skin.
The priest hands the goblet to one of his assistants and turns back to the two of you after you’ve both finished.
“Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time passes, remember, like the star should your love burn brightly, like the stone should your love be firm. Be close, yet not so close that you restrict one another. Possess one another, yet grant each other the freedom to grow. Be understanding and compassionate, and have patience with each other, for storms may come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Fear not, lest the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease.” He clasps his hands over your joined ones before he finishes the last part of the ceremony.
“As both your arms and the cloth form the symbol of eternity, may your love endure through this life and all others. As the Gods and the old ones are witness, with those of us present now, I proclaim them Husband and Wife, and thus are they bonded in Blood. The Two are now one. I present to you the Blood King Jungkook and Queen ______ forever bound, eternally free! You are husband and wife for all eternity. You may now kiss each other to seal your eternal bond of love.” The priest opens his arms and presents the two of you to the guests.
A kiss…was it necessary? Would they believe you if you didn’t kiss him? Would he be able to resist biting you? Would he taste of blood on his lips? So many thoughts plagued your mind in the moments before he cupped your cheek and tilts your face towards his.
“It’s just a kiss.” Jungkook whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at his gentle touch.
“One kiss.” You step forward and wrap the arm holding your bouquet behind his back as he leans down to mold his lips against yours.
You weren’t expecting the softness of them, assuming that their appearance would be deceiving. His cool hand on your cheek brings you just the slightest bit closer as your lips brush over his once…twice…three times before your brain catches up with you and you remember who you are kissing.
There are whispers amongst the wedding guests who watch the scene unfold in front of them. Some with disgust. Some with curiosity. However even with the divided opinions in the crowd, they all share the same opinionated attitude. You try to ignore them as best you can.
Your lips separate from his a little too quickly and your hand immediately flies up to cover your mouth and the gasp that escapes you. Jungkook smiles, a flash of fangs when his lips pull back, and gently touches the veil hanging from your head and cascading over your shoulders. He takes your free hand in his and turns you both towards the guests, who clap but don’t seem to be pleased.
“And now the crowns.” The priest turns back to his assistants and picks up the crown that belongs to Jungkook first. The king bends slightly at the waist and the crown is placed gently atop his head.
The crown looks too perfect on him, black and silver metal twisted into spikes with small red gems at the base. It’s as if he has always worn one, perfectly designed with Jungkook in mind. And maybe he has, you don’t know how long he’s been the king after all.
You hadn’t actually seen your crown until this moment. The priest picks it up from a black silk pillow and presents it to you to observe. Like Jungkooks, it too is also made from black and silver metal twisted into even more dramatic spikes. Large, jagged diamonds and rubies cover it in its entirety. It looks ridiculously heavy, and when the priest places it on your head, you find your assumption to be correct. Heavy and cold.
From somewhere nearby, horns and trumpets start to play, signaling the end of the ceremony. Jungkook takes your hand again, and the two of you make your way back down the makeshift aisle your father had nervously walked you down less than an hour ago, and already things feel so different.
You’re quickly whisked away by carriage. The space inside doesn’t feel big enough, you can’t get far enough away from him, but he simply stays on his side of the bench seat and doesn’t move towards you on the ride back to the castle.
Once you’ve arrived, you’re met at the doors by Jungkook's advisor, Namjoon, who you had met a few times beforehand during meetings with Jungkook and your father. He has a kind face, gentle like he could do no harm, but that did not change the fact that he is a still a vampire. Standing next to him is the Captain of the vampire kingdom's army, Yoongi. You had also met him previously, but he doesn’t speak much unless it’s to Jungkook regarding the royal army.
“Did everything go accordingly?” Namjoon asks as the two of you ascend the stairs to the castle.
“It was my wedding, Namjoon, not a transaction.” Jungkook moved to the side and motioned with his hand for you to walk ahead of him through the doors.
“Is that not exactly what this is?” You hear Namjoon say just before you’re inside, Jungkook sighing as he follows.
“He’s right.” You grumble.
“Beg your pardon?” Jungkook says from beside you, his hands clasped behind his back as the two of you walk towards the great hall where the celebration and dinner is being held.
“It wasn’t a real wedding. It’s part of a bargain.” You stop to face him and he does the same, looking at you bewildered.
“Perhaps the circumstances aren’t ideal, but the wedding was real, my queen.” He bows to you, and you’re sure the scowl on your face is as deep as they come.
“Let’s get this night over with.” You grab the skirt of your dress in your fists and begin stomping off towards the great hall. You can hear Jungkook laugh quietly, but you choose to ignore him.
You’re forced to mingle, your hand wrapped through Jungkook's arm as the two of you make rounds through the room. You absolutely despise the whole experience. But soon enough, you’re thankfully seated at the head table and wine is poured into your cup.
You notice that yours and your parents' place settings are the only ones with plates. But of course they would be, no one else in this damned kingdom eats food.
Downing the first glass of wine in one gulp, you signal for an attendant to bring you another one. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you down one glass after another, unable to bring yourself to care about what he could possibly be thinking.
“Do you want any?” You finally ask him after your third glass. A very unladylike hiccup following.
“I think you know the answer to that question already, my queen.” He smiles softly but his jaw is tight with annoyance.
“I’m not your queen.” You say a little too loudly. Some of the guests begin turning their attention to you.
“You have every right to be angry, _____.” Jungkook tries to say under his breath, but you scoff loudly, reaching for the bottle of wine and rudely snatching it from the attendant.
“Angry? That does not even begin to cover it. I am outraged.” You take a swig from the bottle and laugh bitterly. “I am disgusted…and I am not your queen. You and your people are just…fucking vile.” You look up from the bottle of wine to see a look of horror on your father’s face from where he sits at the next table. You know you’ve said too much. You’ve been cruel. “Jungkook…” You start to correct yourself but he cuts you off by standing up from his chair with so much force that it flies back against the wall, causing the guests to look up and stare.
“One thing you are not going to do is insult my people. You can say all the terrible things you want about me, but not them. Not when they’ve given up so much so that your people can live.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet. “Let’s go.”
“Let go of me.” You try to pull your wrist away, but it’s no use against his inhuman strength. “Release me this instant!” Jungkook continues to pull you towards the door, your legs wobbly from wine and the heels on your feet.
“The evening is over. You need to sleep it off.” He pushes open the door and drags you into the dimly lit hallway.
“I am not sleeping with you!” Even though it’s futile, you scratch and pull at the sleeve of his embroidered jacket.
“As if I’d expect that of you.” Jungkook scoffs and swings you around to face him. He maneuvers your body until you’re pressed against the wall with your arms above your head, one of his hands pinning your wrists there.
“Let go!” You try to kick at him but he dodges every time.
“Whether you like it or not, my queen, this is your home now and these are your people. I have and will continue to do what’s best for everyone involved, including you.” His eyes are almost pitch black, a deep red threatening to spill into the iris’ as he speaks through his clenched teeth.
You must stop forgetting that Jungkook is a monster.
“You know nothing of what’s best for me.” You begin moving to spit in his face, but he knows what you are about to do before you have even finished the thought. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, leaving you to glare at him without being able to talk.
“Listen carefully, my queen.” The grip on your wrists tightens slightly. “You are not the only one making sacrifices around here. So when you decide you want to act like royalty and not some drunken heathen, by all means come to me.” You jerk around in his hold, you just want him to get the hell away from you. He seems to understand your request as he slowly takes his hand away from your mouth.
“I fear you’ll be waiting a very long time, your highness. Possibly until my death, but I’m sure you’ll find that day ever so joyous.” You use your body weight to push at him once more and he finally releases you, but stays in close vicinity.
“Don’t assume you know anything about what I find joyous.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder towards the guards who are standing near the doorway to the hall. “Escort her majesty to her chambers, she’s not to leave them for the night.” Jungkook straightens his shirt and jacket, and begins making his way back towards the dinner hall.
“You can’t just lock me away! Do you hear me?” One of the guards motions for you to walk towards the opposite hallway.
“No more talking tonight. Go to sleep.” Jungkook says over his shoulder before he disappears into the dinner hall. You scoff loudly, taking off walking as fast as your drunken legs will allow you to go.
“Stupid, ignorant, pig headed blood sucker.” You grumble under your breath as you continue down the hallway. The dim lighting from the candles doesn’t allow you to see much, but you can see there is art on the walls that you would rather enjoy if you were not so pissed off. And if they did not belong to the most ridiculous man you had ever met.
The guards lead you to a winding staircase where you quickly find out that in your drunken state you are unable to climb them unassisted. At the top of the first set of stairs they split, one set going left and the other going right. The guards gesture for you to head to the left.
“And where does the right go?” You ask with a hiccup.
“To the king's chambers.” One of them replies. Jungkook had not been lying, he really had prepared your very own chambers. You reach the doors to your bedroom soon after.
One of the guards opens the door for you to enter the room. You cross your arms over your chest and practically stomp inside, turning around to face them.
“Your king is sadly mistaken if he thinks he can lock me up for the rest of my life. I’d rather die.” You aren’t sure what you expect them to say, but they merely bow before shutting the door.
As soon as it clicks shut, you grab the skirt of your dress into your hands and begin ripping the fabric apart, tossing the pieces around the room.
“Stupid, ridiculous, hideous dress.” You screech, grabbing the sleeves at the shoulders and ripping them apart too. You bend down to grab the heels off your feet, stumbling around before yanking them off and chucking them as far away from you as possible.
Your chest heaves with short breaths as you feel yourself burning with rage. Reaching up into your hair, you hastily pull out as many of the pins holding it into place as you can. You start to walk towards the wardrobe when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the far wall. You look like a forest witch. And not the good kind.
Changing your mind about finding other clothes, you begin to notice that there isn’t much in your room. A few vases with fresh flowers and a bed with soft, silky white sheets. There’s a white fur rug at the foot of it and a very large trunk atop that. There’s also a small fireplace in the corner with a few small logs in a basket nearby. The room was otherwise quite empty.
Looking through another set of double doors, you find the washroom. There’s a claw foot tub in one corner with several shelves of soaps and oils on the wall behind it.
As badly as you want to bathe, you need to find ways to protect yourself. Weapons. You need to learn the layout of the castle so that you know where all the exits are at all times. And you also need to find some food. Food in a castle full of creatures who don’t eat it. You sigh loudly, almost tripping over some pieces of your skirt on the marble floor.
Looking down at what's left of your wedding dress on your body is almost laughable. It’s mostly just the bodice and a few pieces covering your lower region in a tattered disarray. You cannot bring yourself to care, this dress was a mistake. It was all a mistake.
You walk out onto the balcony and see a ledge that looks just big enough for you to make your way over to the next room. Wasting no time, you swing your leg over the side, feeling a bit dizzy and suddenly remembering that you’re still quite drunk. But there is no time to sober up now, you have missions to complete.
Still barefoot, you balance onto the ledge and carefully side step your way along the stone. It's only about ten feet from your balcony to the next one.
You get a little too ahead of yourself and almost slip just once, but manage to climb over the railing of the next balcony successfully. You slink over to the window and peer inside, seeing what appears to be an empty guest room. Trying the handle for the doors, you’re overly pleased to find that they are unlocked.
Once inside, you press yourself against the wall and move towards the bedroom door. You pray that once you open it, there will be no vampire guards waiting for you. You have yet to secure a weapon and this might be your only chance to do so when so many of the castle's occupants are still at your wedding reception.
Slowly, you open the door, poking your head outside to see the guards are still occupied with watching over your bedroom door. You silently thank the gods, tip toeing into the hall, you're able to make a mad dash as soon as you’ve rounded the corner and gotten out of the guards sight.
You run until you find the winding staircase that you had come upstairs on. Its familiar shape lets you know that you’re going the right way. Eyes darting from side to side, you descend the stairs, making sure there are no vampires lurking about in the halls.
With absolutely no idea where you are going, you take the hallway to the left, and to your surprise, you smell food. The scent gets stronger and more distinct the further you travel down the hallway. You notice a swinging door, the sounds of clanging pans and a soft voice coming from inside. You brave a peek inside the small round window on the door, the person inside has their back to you for a moment, but when they turn around to face you, you almost cry.
Hoseok.
You shove open the swinging door with all your might, jumping onto a very unsuspecting Hoseok, who screams bloody murder at the sight of you. He almost falls backwards, but catches himself on the corner of the counter.
“Get off of me, witch!” Hoseok yells, reaching for a frying pan in hopes to knock out the creature currently hugging his torso.
“Oh, Hoseok, I’m so happy to see you.” You cry into his chef's coat.
“______? Is that really you?” He grabs your shoulders and moves you back to get a look at you. “My god, it really is you. What the hell happened to you?” He picks up a piece of your dress from the floor that must've fallen off in your rush to get to him.
“How are you here? Why?” You sniffle, tears streaming down your face.
“The king asked me to come stay here and be your chef…since you know, they don’t eat food and you do.” Hoseok pats the top of your head affectionately.
Hoseok is your closest friend. You had grown up together back in your father’s kingdom. His mother had been a long time servant of your parents, the most loyal that you could ask for. Hoseok had inherited that particular trait from her. He began cooking as you got older and soon became one of the best chefs in your kingdom. You were very surprised when you heard your father was so willing to let him go.
“My father let you come? Who will make him those banana pancakes he loves so much?” You laugh, wiping your face so you can get a better look at him, making sure that he’s really here in front of you.
“No, not your father, I meant King Jungkook. He apparently gave your father a rather large sum to make sure that I came here to cook for you.” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders and smiles widely.
“Why would he do that?” You hiss.
“I don’t know, _____. Maybe he just wanted you to be comfortable here.” Hoseok gives you another small hug, then moves around you to continue what he was working on before.
“I find that hard to believe.” You scoff.
“Do you want to explain why the hell you look like a swamp witch?” Hoseok is packaging some food and placing it into the cold room that was filled with ice.
“I…may have gotten drunk at the reception…and got sent to my rooms like a child. And I may have thrown a fit of rage about it.” You plop yourself down on a wooden stool in the corner of the kitchen. You learned a long time ago not to get in his way when he was working.
“You? Throw a fit? Could not imagine such a thing.” He laughs before closing the door to the cold room. “So you haven’t eaten?”
“No. I’m starving Hoseok, please make me food.” You whine to your friend and he rolls his eyes in response.
“You’re lucky I don’t beat you with this plate of food. I made this damn dinner for the reception and they brought your plate back to me untouched? You’re on thin ice my friend.” Hoseok pulls a plate of food from the oven that he had been keeping warm there and sits it in front of you.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You don’t bother waiting for him to hand you any utensils as you grab the food with your hands, dismissing the fact that it’s too hot to be eating. You’re too hungry to care.
“One day in the vampire kingdom and you’ve already lost your mind.” Hoseok places a fork beside your plate, but still, you ignore it.
“Do you have knives in here?” Your face lights up, looking around the kitchen.
“I’m a little hesitant to give you any sharp objects right now _____.” Hoseok looks at you with concern reaching his face.
“It’s for protection, Hobi. We’re the only two humans for miles, aren’t you a bit concerned about that?” Your mouth is half full of food as you speak and Hoseok looks disgusted as you stand up and start rifling through his kitchen.
“Of course it’s a little…unsettling. But the king isn’t going to let anything happen to us. Especially you.” Hobi walks behind you, picking things up as you make a mess. You scoff at the last part.
“He cares about me as much as I care about him, which is not at all.” You finally find the drawer that holds the kitchen knives. “Finally! Why didn’t you tell me where they were?”
“Because I think you’re slightly insane.” He puts his hands up in front of him in surrender when you turn around to face him, knife in hand.
“I’m not insane. I’m being…prepared.” You close the drawer and move back towards the kitchen door, peaking out into the hallway through the circular window. You don’t see any movement.
You aren’t sure where to keep this knife if you finally managed to get your hands on, looking around the kitchen for something to use.
“Here, just use this.” Hoseok sighs, handing you a long leather string. “Wrap it around your thigh, that's what all the female warriors do.”
Looking at Hobi inquisitively, wondering how he could possibly know that bot of information, you take the string from his hand and wrap it around your thigh until you can tie it. You’re able to secure the knife between the leather well enough for now.
“Do you even know how to kill a vampire, ____? Is a knife even going to work?” Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at you.
“Father told me once that you have to remove their heads.” You don’t look at him, just continue looking into the hallway.
“And a kitchen knife is going to remove a vampire's head!? I’m going to pretend you didn’t get that from me if anyone asks.” Hoseok motions towards your knife with his head before he goes back to cleaning up the mess you had left in your wake.
“I’m going to go look around some more. I’ll come find you later.” You look at him now, as he picks things up off the floor.
“Please don’t.” He teases, crossing the small kitchen to stand in front of you. “Be careful roaming around this castle.”
“I’ll be fine, Hobi.” You wrap an arm around him and he does the same to you, giving each other a much needed hug. He kisses the top of your head before he lets you go.
“Go on then, Blood Queen. I’ll bring you your breakfast in the morning.” He shoos you away.
“Do not call me that.” You glare at your friend. “Eggs and lots of coffee?”
“As you wish.” He rolls his eyes again and you can’t help but smile.
Pushing open the swinging door, you carefully step out into the hallway, keeping your back pressed to the wall as you follow it through the castle.
There isn’t much to see. Some extra bedrooms, one room that looked like a study and one door that had led to a small patio. You mentally mapped that door in your head and hoped you could remember it well enough to write down when you got back to your rooms.
As you approached the end of the hallway you began to hear voices. You knew you should turn around but your curiosity was too much to battle with. So instead, you made your way to the double doors that had been left slightly ajar.
Inside, the room was full of vampires seated at a very long table. Jungkook is sitting at the head of it, his fingers adorned by silver rings, stroking his chin with worry. You aren’t sure how you know that he’s worried, but you just know. Namjoon paces the floor behind him, babbling to no one in particular it seemed. Yoongi, who is sitting to his right, still appears to be his quiet and stoic self. Not much different to how you saw him for the first time.
There are several others present around the table that you do not recognize. But the real question is why are they here instead of attending the wedding reception?
“Is this a threat we need to be prepared for sooner rather than later?” You finally hear Yoongi say, his voice deep and rumbly.
“We knew taking on the human kingdom was going to cause issues with Taehyung. Because not only did you agree to help them, you married the fucking princess.” Namjoon says, distaste thick in his voice.
“They required protection. This was how we gave them that.” Jungkook doesn’t bother looking up, he merely sits back in his chair and crosses his legs.
“At what cost? Why are we paying for their ignorance?” Namjoon continues to pace the floor behind Jungkook's chair.
It surprises you how Jungkook continues to defend your kingdom when he clearly did not have much reason to. It isn’t as if you had married him on happy terms. The only thing he is really getting out of this arrangement is land, and it isn’t like there is much of it to give in the first place. You’ve been so angry that you really had never taken the time to consider that.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Jungkook says, abruptly standing up from his chair.
You feel panic rise up as you notice that he’s heading towards the door that you’re still standing in front of. You look around the hall frantically, seeing a large statue in the corner to your left.
You dash towards it, trying to keep the sound of your bare feet padding across the marble floor as quiet as possible. You hear the door creak open all the way as you fling yourself behind the statue, flopping against the ground with a thud.
“Shit. Shit that hurts.” You whisper, trying to right yourself into a sitting position.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have the mouth of a sailor?” Jungkook is suddenly standing above you, making you jump with fright, banging your head against the statue that had apparently done nothing to hide you from him.
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to just appear out of nowhere like a damn ghost?” You rub the back of your head and manage to get to your feet to stand in front of him. Jungkook scoffs, trying to hold back a laugh.
“What in the world have you done to your dress?” He asks, reaching towards your torn up skirt. Before he can touch them you slap his hand away, making your hand sting at the contact.
“I had a moment. Not that it’s any of your business.” You attempt to smooth out what’s left of the skirts at your waist.
“You look like a swamp witch.” Jungkook can’t help the smile that graces his face and you want to slap it away for being so beautiful.
“I do not!” You shove past him, stomping back down the hallway where you had come from.
“Would you please stop for a moment?” Jungkook calls after you.
“I will not.” You refuse to give him any further satisfaction. He does not seem to take the hint, his footsteps following after you.
You’ve had enough of him for one night. You reach into the band you had made and wrapped around your thigh to hold onto the kitchen knife you had gotten from the kitchen, spinning around and pointing the sharp end of the blade right at Jungkook’s throat, making him stop in his tracks in front of you.
“Where did you get a knife?” Jungkook dares to ask, an eyebrow raised in question.
“That is also none of your business.” You move the knife so close to his throat that the slightest movement could make you cut him.
“Were you keeping that knife strapped to your thigh?” Jungkook's voice lowers as he slowly raises his hands in surrender. You choose not to answer him, only stiffening your stance. “Incredibly violent…” Jungkook smiles and his fangs extend slightly, making you feel bewildered at his reaction.
“Why are you smiling?” You poke the tip of the knife against his skin.
“Because I like that you’re beautifully murderous.” Jungkook is suddenly out of your sight, making you whirl around to find him, only to be pressed roughly against the wall, the hand holding the knife anchored above your head.
“Get off of me!” You move to knee him in the groin but he’s too fast. Inhumanly fast.
“I want you to be a part of this, you know. I want you to help us help your people.” His grip tightens slightly the more you move around.
“Why?” You seethe.
“Because you’re the queen. My partner in this life. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” The look on his face is so sincere that it makes you halt your movements.
“Jungkook…this is not a real marriage. Why are you so convinced that it is?” With one last push, he releases you and takes a step back.
“I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make you see that it is.” Jungkook tells you with a quiet sigh. “But for the time being, please just come inside and listen to what we’re speaking about. You should be a part of it too.”
You feel the tiniest sliver of hatred melt away from your heart. It makes your chest feel lighter, like you can breathe a little easier. You don’t understand it. You don’t understand him. But you can’t deny that you want to know what’s going on in that meeting room.
“Fine. Let’s go.” You rip your eyes away from his face before it becomes too noticeable that you were looking at him at all.
“Do you perhaps want to change first?” Jungkook asks. “The dress has become rather revealing.”
You glare at him before propping your foot up against the wall, exposing your bare leg to him. You slide the kitchen knife back into the homemade holster on your thigh, adjusting it slightly and letting your foot slip back to the ground as you keep direct eye contact with the vampire king.
“No. I think I’ll attend the meeting just as I am.” You can’t help but smirk a little, pointing your nose to the ceiling before making your way into the meeting room. Jungkook laughs quietly in disbelief, but follows you inside.
All the eyes in the room are suddenly on you. One of the men sitting at the table visibly chokes on air as he watches you walk into the room and takes in your appearance.
“I suggest you get yourself together, Seokjin.” Jungkook walks ahead of you to pull out the chair to the left of his for you.
“Apologies, your highness.” The man named Seokjin splutters slightly, then straightens in his chair.
“Were you attacked, my lady?” Yoongi says, his voice low but still holding a bit of concern.
“No…I was…it's nothing. Don’t let my clothing distract you from the discussion.” You move around the table, choosing to ignore the chair Jungkook has pulled out for you, but instead decide to move to his chair at the head of the table and sit down there. “Shall we?” You ask, a smug look on your face.
“Incredible.” You hear Jungkook mumble under his breath, only meaning for you to hear it, but obviously all the other vampire ears in the room do as well, making everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats.
“Does the queen need to be present?” Namjoon remarks from the seat next to Yoongi.
“Yes, she does. And I won’t hear another thing about it.” Jungkook makes his point clear and moves to sit in the chair he had originally pulled out for you.
“Fine then. We need to start preparing for a war with Taehyung. And we also need to consider that in order to avoid it, we should give up the human kingdom. We don’t need it.” Namjoon is very monotone as he speaks about giving up your kingdom to an apparent enemy.
“Absolutely not.” You say without thought.
“No disrespect, your highness, but I was speaking to the king.” Namjoon dismisses you and you can feel anger start to bubble beneath your skin.
“You say that you mean no disrespect, but you’re sitting there suggesting that we turn over my kingdom, full of innocent people, to your enemy.” You lean forward in your seat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look at the king's advisor.
“I’m not sure you understand the ramifications of going to war with Taehyung, your majesty. He is not to be underestimated.” Namjoon leans forward as well, meeting your gaze with a challenge in his eyes.
“Perhaps someone could explain to me who Taehyung is, and how he has become such a threat to the most powerful kingdom in this realm?” You don’t let your gaze fall from Namjoon’s, challenging him right back.
“If you two are finished with your vicious little disagreement you’ve got going, I would be honored to get the queen up to speed on the situation.” Seokjin says from a few chairs down. His voice makes you look away from Namjoon with a scowl on your face.
“Please. Tell me what you know.” You give Seokjin your attention, ignoring the mumbled curses Namjoon says under his breath.
“Taehyung is the king of the werewolf kingdom to our west, your highness. And I…well I know more than most about werewolves as I myself am one of them.” Seokjin looks up at you then, a golden glow flashing across his eyes when they meet yours.
“I’m confused. If you’re one of them, what are you doing here?” Your curiosity is peaked at this very unexpected bit of information.
“Well you see, my lady, I owe my life to your king. Many, many years ago he had mercy on me and I have pledged my loyalty to him until my dying day.” A smile plays at the corner of Seokjin’s mouth as he looks from you to Jungkook, who also shares the same smile of fondness on his face.
“He saved your life?” You ask, enthralled by this story. A vampire saving the life of a werewolf is unheard of, the two of them becoming friends is even more unheard of.
“He did. And now he has me at his side, even if he wishes I wasn’t at times.” He laughs a little and Jungkook’s smile grows wider.
“You’re too humble sometimes, hyung.” Jungkook says, sharing one last fond smile with Seokjin before he looks back at you. “Seokjin is vital to the way this kingdom is able to live and operate on a daily basis. Don’t let him talk lowly of himself.”
You wish their story wasn’t so endearing. That you didn’t feel a pang of something in your heart for the fondness they share for each other. But no matter how hard you try to bite back your smile, it betrays you, pulling your lips up slightly.
“I am happy to meet you, Seokjin.” You say, sharing one more look with him before the moment is interrupted.
“Could we get back to the point?” Namjoon says, obviously annoyed by the friendly conversation. Why was he so frumpy?
“Of course. My apologies.” Seokjin sits back in his chair with a small bow of his head.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sour puss?” You say to Namjoon, almost causing Yoongi to choke on a laugh.
“My lady, this is not a joke. If you’re insistent on being involved, I beg you to take this seriously.” If Namjoon could blush, you suppose he would be at this point.
“I’m listening.” You roll your eyes a bit and turn to Jungkook, who is watching you with a smirk on his face.
“Taehyung isn’t happy about this…union. He believes your land should be his and we are almost positive he isn’t going to sit back and let it go.” Yoongi takes the initiative to explain this time.
“And for now, as I’ve said before, we double the guard at the border but we don’t engage. I’m not starting a war without reason.” Jungkook speaks now, everybody forwarding their attention to him. “And perhaps we need to set up a meeting with Taehyung.”
“A meeting? What do you hope to come of that, your majesty?” Namjoon looks with disbelief on his face.
“I’m avoiding a war at all costs. I won’t bring unnecessary danger to either of the kingdoms.” Jungkook stands up. “And this discussion is over for now. I’m sure the queen would like to sleep.” You nod, quickly being able to tell that Jungkook is done talking for tonight.
You stand from the table, bowing to the others who stand at the same time as you do to bow deeper in your direction. Jungkook motions for you to walk ahead of him with his hand as you take one last look over your shoulder at the men sitting at the table. More monsters than men…but it was easy to forget such a thing.
“I’m glad you joined us.” Jungkook's voice startles you from your thinking.
“Yes well…I won’t let anything happen to my people. We can’t just throw them to the wolves.” You hope he detects the seriousness in your voice.
“I hope that you can see that isn’t my intention. It never was.” Jungkook walks next to you, his arms crossed behind his back.
“As long as that is clear.” You reach the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your separate bed chambers, stopping on the bottom step and turn to look at Jungkook.
“Loud and clear, my queen.” Jungkook steps up closer and you almost trip over the step trying to create space. “Where is the knife now?”
“It will be in your chest if you do not step away from me.” You growl through your teeth, making Jungkook grin wickedly, fangs appearing under his lip.
“Beautiful and violent. Where have you been all my life, darling?” Jungkook steps up onto the stairs, making you stumble up a few more to get distance.
“You’re some kind of masochist, aren’t you?” You put your hand down onto the handle of the knife. Jungkook throws his head back in laughter. The sound is…certainly not what you expected. He seems so human as he laughs and tries to compose himself.
“Would you like to find out?” He takes one more step up towards you and you’ve had enough.
You lift your bare foot from the wooden stair and press it into the middle of his chest as he stands two steps down from you. You watch Jungkook's eyes as they take in what is happening, roaming over the exposed skin of your legs and thigh.
“Stop flirting with me.” You push slightly against his chest with your foot. “It’s very annoying.”
“Your heart is beating so quick, I’m not sure that you mean that.” Jungkook says in a low tone. The sound of his deep voice tries to pry its way between your thighs, but you won’t let it. “I think you rather like it, actually.”
“You’re not amusing, your highness.” You try to remain unfazed.
“You can’t lie to me. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins…and your breath struggling to even out.” Jungkook tries to take a step up but you push him back down with your foot.
“You’re delusional. Whatever you are hearing is simply because I am fending off a vampire, not because I find that vampire to be maddeningly beautiful.” You wish you had said that differently…surely he will know you’re lying now.
“Why do you fight it?” He questions.
“Fight what?”
“The attraction between us.”
“Because there isn’t any. None. It is nonexistent.” You shove your foot into his chest once more but he doesn’t budge of course.
“Liar.” Jungkook says quietly, you can feel his breath on the skin of your leg. His cool fingers come up to ghost over the skin of your ankle, allowing goosebumps to find home on your skin as your body betrays you even more. “Shall we test your theory?” Fingers continue their featherlight touch up your calf.
“You’re…it’s not affecting me at all.” Your voice shakes slightly as you fight to keep your eyes open.
“More lies, my queen.” When his fingers get to the inside of your thigh, your brain suddenly remembers what’s happening. You kick him in the chest with more force and Jungkook stumbles slightly, giving you a chance to jog up a few more stairs before you speak to him again.
“No more of your unrequited flirting. And especially touching. None of that.” You yell down to him, wishing you could smack the grin on his face.
“As you wish.” He bows to you.
“Goodnight, your highness.” You pull the knife out of your holster and point it towards him as you back your way up the rest of the stairs, making Jungkook laugh out loud again. You don’t look back this time as you dash your way down the hall to your bed chambers where the two guards are still standing. “I’ll be going to bed now.” You huff past them and into the room as quickly as possible.
You press your back against the cool wood of the door, trying to catch the breath you had not realized were holding . He was absolutely infuriating. Ridiculous. Egotistical. And yet… soft and endearing at times. Like when he was speaking to or about Seokjin. It is something you never expected to see.
Looking down at your hand, you see the wedding ring he had given you just a few short hours ago. Shaped like a drop of blood and every bit the color of it. You had forgotten all about it and now you aren’t sure you wanted to take it off. You and this ring have been through a lot already.
Finally, you bring yourself to move towards one of the tall armoires on the other side of the room. Perhaps it’s time to finally change out of your tattered wedding dress.
You look through some drawers until you finally find some silky night shorts and matching camisole. It seems revealing for pajamas, but you also don’t have the energy to keep digging for something else.
With a sigh, you head into the bathroom and make a beeline for that glorious claw foot tub in the corner of the room. You look around and notice the gold crusted faucets at one end of the tub.
Running water. The vampire kingdom had running water for baths. This was not a luxury that you had back in your human kingdom.
“Something decent has come from this.” You mumble to yourself as you turn on the faucets and watch the crystal clear water start to fill the basin of the tub. You grab one of the first glass bottles of soap that you can reach, breathing in its scent and finding it to be lavender. A scent you missed about the gardens in your father’s kingdom. You pour a plentiful amount into the stream of water and watch the bubbles begin to form and you can’t help but smile.
Stripping out of what’s left of your wedding dress, you toss it away and carefully step into the tub. The water is so warm already, instantly loosening your tired muscles and cleanssng your dirty skin. It felt like heaven.
Once the tub has filled you turn off the faucets and sink down into it. You let your head dip beneath the bubbles, letting it washclean your hair and , making it easier to pull the rest of the pins out of it.
It’s quiet in this washroom. Almost too quiet. So you decide not to dawdledauddle for too long, getting yourself cleaned up and grabbing a robe from one of the hanging hooks on the wall.
Making your way back into your bed chambers, you dress into the pajamas you had found earlier and climb into the bed. You feel alone all at once. Too alone with your thoughts.
How would your life play out now that you’re here? Married. To the king of vampires. Jungkook. The blood king.
You want to know more. Need to know more about him and this place.
In order for you to do that, you have to change your sleeping schedule. You need to be awake at night when everyone else is awake.
It took some time for you to get used to but after a couple of weeks you are able to get up and join the vampires during their meetings regarding Taehyung.
You are also able to explore the castle and its grounds more thoroughly. Finding it full of vast libraries and art from different centuries…different worlds it seemed.
Most recently though, you had discovered the gardens. Gardens that had been somewhat neglected by visitors if you were being honest. They were clean and well kept, but they were mostly empty. Not many flowers and things to fill all the spaces in between the manicured bushes and small trees. You wondered if it was because no one could come out during the day to care for them. And the more you thought about it, the sillier it seemed.
You love walking around outside nonetheless. Sitting on the stone benches and watching the fountains. But your urge to do more is constantly bouncing around in your mind.
Tonight, you find yourself changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. You had decided you were going to start digging around in the gardens, whether it is something a queen should do or not, you didn’t care. It would busy your mind and give you something productive to do.
“Where are you off to?” Hoseok calls behind you as you make your way to the back doors.
“To the gardens. I think I’m going to start digging around. Maybe plant some new things.” You turn to see the bright smile on his face. One of the few bright things here.
“There are groundskeepers for that, you know?” Hoseok teases as he approaches you, taking in your very unqueenly outfit.
“I am aware, Hobi. But I’m bored and I need to find something to occupy my time.” You wave him off with a sigh.
“Do you know where the gardening equipment is?” Hoseok asks, hands moving to his hips as he looks at you expectantly.
“Well…no. But I assume that you do?”
“Perhaps. What’s in it for me?” He continues to tease.
“I’m the queen, you have to tell me if I ask.” Your arms cross over your chest.
“Oh now you want to be the queen? Only when it benefits you, I see.”
“Come on, Hoseok, pleeeeease?” You’re growing tired of his antics.
“Let me use your bathtub twice a week, and I’ll tell you where it is.” He puts his hand out for you to shake.
“As if I would deny you that bathtub.” You laugh a little and shake his hand. “Come on then, to the gardening tools.” You jump onto his back as he turns around to lead the way, making him carry you.
“I don’t remember carrying your spoiled ass around being in my new job description.” Hobi laughs, adjusting you on his back so he can walk with more balance.
“It’s in your best friend job description, check your paperwork.” You place your chin on his shoulder and squeeze your legs tighter around his middle.
“Ridiculous.” He laughs louder, making his way towards the back doors to show you where to find the gardening tools.
Hoseok takes you to a small building outside the castle, inside of which are plenty of gardening tools for you to get started with your plans. He doesn’t stick around though, making his way back to the castle to finally get some sleep. Hobi is having a harder time adjusting to the new sleep schedule than you had.
With your arms full of shovels, rakes, and other tools you may or may not need, you find an area near the fountains that you plan to start with. The dirt in this area seems a bit dry and sad looking, so you think if you dig into the soil, you’ll be able to bring the good dirt to the top.
You spend a few hours tilling the soil and sure enough, it already looks so much better than it did before. And even though autumn is in full swing and you’re working by the light from the moon, you’re still a bit sweaty.
“I think digging your way out of here may be a bigger task than you bargained for.” A now familiar voice says from behind you, making you jump at the sudden sound.
“Will I have to live out the rest of my days here wondering when the next time you’ll give me a heart attack will be?” You place your hand over your hammering heart while Jungkook smiles.
“Apologies, my queen.” Jungkook walks closest to where you’re kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his back. “What is it that you’re doing exactly?”
“I’m gardening. Is that not obvious?” You sit the small shovel down and wipe your hands off on your thighs.
“Yes. But why?” He asks curiously.
“Something to do? A hobby? I’m tired of wandering around this castle like a ghost.” You look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Is that something I’m allowed to do, your highness?”
“You’re rather snarky for a queen.” Jungkook smiles again, the sharp points of his fangs showing behind his lips.
“I have been called much worse.” You huff, standing up from the ground, wobbling slightly from being in that position a bit too long.
Jungkook is inhumanly fast, gently steadying you on your feet. One hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. His skin is so cold it sends a shiver through you, goosebumps covering your warm skin.
“So long as you’re here, no one will dare to call you anything less than you deserve.” His eyes are almost black as they meet yours. “Are you okay to stand?”
You shake away the trance you feel when you look at him, stepping back slightly and out of his hold.
“Yes, I’m fine.” You awkwardly stumble over the shovel on the ground, righting yourself before Jungkook has a chance to try and help you again. “Thank you.”
“Shall I help you with this?” He asks, bending to pick up one of the rakes.
“Oh…that’s not necessary, I can manage.”
“I’m well aware that you can manage. But would you like some help…and some company?”Jungkook almost looks shy as he asks. “I think it would be good for us to spend more time together.”
You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you despises the thought of spending time with him. But a bigger part tells you that you long to know him more. To hear his infuriating tone when he teases you.
“Fine. But you start over there, and don’t crowd me.” You point towards an area a few feet from the one you had been working on. Jungkook laughs quietly.
“As you wish, my queen.” He bows at the waist and makes his way over.
“I’ve asked you several times to stop calling me that.” You sigh, pushing some hair away from your face before you continue tilling the soil.
“Why does it bother you so much?” Jungkook gets down to his knees, the brown slacks he is wearing meeting the dirt.
“I am not a vampire, Jungkook. Being the Blood Queen seems like I’m pretending to be something that I’m not.” It bothers you. All those vows that you took about protecting each other are just lies.
“You don’t need to be a vampire to be the queen here. No matter what you hear or what you think, you only need to try and understand.” Jungkook’s quick hands are making much faster work of things than yours ever could.
“Understand what?” You ask.
“Will you let me show you some time? It will be much easier to show than to try and explain it in so many words.”
You don’t understand what he means, but the look on his face tells you that he’s sincere in what he says. And even though you should probably say no, you’re too curious not to indulge him.
“Okay.” You simply state. Jungkook smiles softly and continues his digging.
Another week passes, and Jungkook joins you out in the gardens every night. He brings you new tools to use and lists from the florists in the kingdom so that you can pick out flowers to plant wherever you please. You choose as many as you can find that grow at night, because though they carry all the usual things that flourish in the day time, you know you won’t get to enjoy them as much as you will the ones who bloom at night.
You spend hours in the many libraries within the castle researching the plants and what they need to live well at night. Jungkook joins you there often, following you through the stacks of books and listening to you babble on and on about the flowers.
As much as you wish you didn't enjoy his company, as much as you don’t want to be fond of the sound of his voice, you are very much beginning to.
“_____?” Jungkook says quietly, closing the book that you’re holding in your hands. He doesn’t call you by your first name often, it’s a strange feeling that follows it.
“What is it?” You slide the book back onto the shelf in front of you, turning your attention to him.
“Would you please do me the honor of accompanying me into the kingdom tomorrow night?” His hands are behind his back as he speaks, stepping closer to where you’re standing.
“May I ask why?” You try to pretend his close proximity does not affect you. Jungkook is still a vampire after all.
“I told you I would help you to understand why being human does not mean you cannot be the queen here.” Jungkook brings a hand from behind his back and reaches out gently, brushing your fingertips with his.
“What are you going to show me, Jungkook?” You slowly pull your hand back from his touch, making him smirk at your stubbornness.
“Everything, darling.”
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bangguks · 3 months ago
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a Seokjin classic: OSAKAAAAA
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taejinnies · 6 months ago
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reminder: undercut Jungkook is lethal
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hisunshiine · 7 months ago
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— something in the heir | jjk
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⟢ pairing: knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader
⟢ genre(s): nsfw. 18+. smut, fluff. mutual pining.
⟢ au(s): non-royalty palace au. strangers/friends to lovers (they fall between strangers & friends) 
⟢ trigger warnings: brief mentions of war/battle, pregnancy 
⟢ smut warnings: unprotected sex, clit teasing, breeding kink, creampie, fluffy post coitus cuddles
⟢ word count: 1,942 words
⟢ author’s note: Written for @noonasto as part of the @bangtanwritershq Boy With Luv Valentine’s Event, thank you so much to @peachiilovesot7​ for beta reading this!! i love you happy valentines day to you and kim♡ also i am sorry if this is not my best work ;__; this month has been so hectic 
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You didn’t expect to see him at your door, which isn’t saying much, since despite his build and stature, he’s the owner of the tiniest waist and lightest footfalls. A waist that you’re gripping tightly as he rocks above you with your back against your mattress, his hands holding your thighs as his hips piston his cock, hard and leaking pre-cum, inside of your warm cunt repeatedly.
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“Hey, what about that maiden?”
Jungkook looks over the wooden table to see a flirty smile and fluttering eyelashes pointed in his direction. 
“Nah, she’s a little too easy.”
“Oh, yes, I forget the high and mighty Jeon Jungkook likes to conquer his women when he beds them.”
“If he beds them,” Jimin snickers, “isn’t our ickle Ggukie still a virgin?”
Jungkook throws back his ale, ignoring the guffaws and chatter of his fellow knights. He’s used to their teasing, knowing how easy his hyungs are to get into bed. And while he’s no virgin, compared to his brothers in arms, he’s a prude. 
Jungkook just knows what he wants and what he likes, and that just so happens to be you. The woman who he catches glimpses of randomly throughout the castle when your paths cross. The woman whose smile lights up the damp corridors of the palace. 
“When will you grow up and settle down, Jimin?” he asks, annoyed that he’s still laughing.
“When you decide to deflower yourself with a harlot or three.”
“I can get you in at the brothel next door,” Jin winks his way. “You know I’m great friends with Ji-Soo.”
“I'll pass, thanks.”
“We leave for battle in a few days time…do you really want to leave without telling her?” Yoongi asks, and Jungkook battles the emotions he’s kept hidden away behind his armor.
“If I’m meant to be with her, I’ll make it back home and she’ll be waiting for me.”
Namjoon shakes his head, sharing a glance with Hoseok, who waves his hand to the barmaid, signaling for another round.
“Well, then…we shall make it back alive.”
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You busy yourself with your morning tasks, preparing the gowns for the queen. The younger palace women gossip loudly, talking about the knights who were in the tavern last night. You know the king will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, and that his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. 
You know most of them by name, but none is talked about more than the youngest of the knights. Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook is someone you know very little about, have spent time with even less, but have heard plenty of rumors about. 
Most notably that he’s a cocky son of a bitch who is good at everything, and every maiden he’s encountered has had a hard time getting his attention. As one of the seven knights sworn to protect the current king, he doesn’t have much free time to devote to a wife or kids, and even less to bedding the women who practically throw themselves at him. 
And you understand why they do. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors within the palace walls; young and virile with no bastards or mistresses to mar his reputation. He’s quick with the shortblade, an amazing shot while riding horseback, and his dark eyes and easy smile are like a quenching ale at the local tavern on a hot summer day. You would take the chance if you had it, but you never felt like he was attainable.
As you follow the queen into the chambers to meet with the King for their morning meal, you notice the seven knights gathered around a large war table with small figures mapped out and tiny flags pinpointing locations. You can’t help but to stare at them, their built forms hunched over the table, firm rear ends showcasing how muscular they are. 
A dark pair of eyes follow you as you focus back on your task, and miss the way that his eyes trace your figure in your light tunic as you bow before the king before seating yourself a few feet behind the queen. Unbeknownst to you, oh…you have been a temptress to him. His eyes always seem to find your shape as you run to and fro in the palace. Your work often has you busy tending to the queen or carrying out tasks: mending their clothes, pouring water for their baths—anything she needs.
Despite your view being hindered, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and all of the stories you have heard about him. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land.
That particular rumor about him is untrue, though you wouldn’t know that he’s been infatuated with you since he first walked past you. After their morning meal, that is the last you see of Jeon Jungkook for several months, and secretly you pray every night for his safe return home. Maybe you’ll finally say something to him, and you send up a little promise to the gods that if Jungkook makes it home, you won’t waste one day without saying hi.
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The battle against Soiros is long and enduring, but a sneak attack at the end of the third month tips the scales in the King’s favor. Soiros surrenders in defeat, and the Knights of the Order of Bangtania lead their King home.
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As they’ve been off fighting with the king, their sworn duty to protect him while fighting a war on foreign soil, the town celebrates with fireworks and music to welcome the worn men back to the palace. Kids and adults line the roads, throwing candy and flowers and cheering for their warriors and most of all, their triumphant King, and they all return at dusk, brow-beaten and weary—but alive. 
The king calls for his queen almost instantly, and all of the palace women, including yourself, are dismissed with haste now that she has arrived at his bedchambers, freshly bathed and naked under her robes. 
The king and his knights have been gone for three long months, and he’s ready to create an heir. The battle reminded him of the fact that at any moment, he could be slain, and a successor was necessary for his bloodline to remain on the throne. This sentiment seems to have been the topic of conversation on their trip home. All of the other knights stumble off into the beds of fair maidens, but Jungkook comes straight to find you.
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Despite Jungkook seeing you around the castle that fact that he finds you very appealing, as the youngest knight of the seven, he often finds himself feeling as if he has to behave a certain way, showing he’s worthy of such a high ranking position. 
So he’s never approached you, never said anything to you that would alert you to his thoughts, as lustful as they are. Watching the way your hips sway when you walk behind the queen, Jungkook didn’t understand how anyone could even notice her, when you were so effervescent. 
But the three months away put things into perspective for him. How many times did he have to dive from arrows, dodge a bloody blade, or take another’s life with his bare hands before they could take his? Too many to count. So he understands quite well how the king feels about returning to his wife, and though Jungkook is single, he felt that same fear every time he almost didn’t return home. 
So once he’s dismissed from his duties, he washes himself quickly in the knights barracks before stalking through the palace in search of the only maiden who caught his eye. You. Sitting at your small vanity, you’ve just finished taking down your braid when a loud knocking startles you from your task. Approaching the door, you barely see his face in the flickering shadows of the candle-lit corridor before his lips are upon yours. 
His scent, a woody musk paired with the soft nuances of soap surrounds you, and you gasp as he embraces you. This invites him further in, his tongue seeking yours as you brace your hands on his shoulders and tug him through the threshold into your room. 
This is how you end up finding yourself with your nightgown hoisted up above your breasts, and Jungkook buried to the hilt between your thighs.  
“Jung-Jungkook…” You can barely speak, but you want him to know how good he feels, dragging his thick cock along your walls. 
“You’re so tight, want to fill you up—” he’s panting, hair damp with sweat clinging to his forehead as he tightens his abs to try and hold himself from blowing his load too soon.
“I—I want that too…” you struggle to say, and he smirks at you, a fire ablaze as he realizes you want the same.
“Gonna give you my child, Y/N, want you…want you to give me a son—” his hips flex and your toes curl as you imagine his release, thick and powerful as you let it fill you.
“Yes, please, Jungkook, fill me up.” You stare into his eyes, reaching up to brush some of the hair from his face, and the gentle touch brings his body closer to yours. With a controlled roll of his hips, he takes his hand between your bodies, searching for your neglected nub until his thumb begins to make firm figure eights with your leaking essence. 
Arching your back, you struggle to keep your eyes on him as your walls pulsate around him, and it soon becomes even easier for him to glide within your walls as your release coats him. You tug at his hair when he dips his mouth to your neck, marking and kissing you until he takes your lips and kisses you fervently. 
When his hips stutter, faltering in their rhythm, you know he can no longer hold back, and with a growl, he slams into you one last time as he shoots thick spurts of cum inside of you. After a few moments, he moves gingerly, milking the last of his seed despite the overstimulation it causes and you whimper from the feel. He leans down to kiss your face tenderly before unsheathing himself. 
Rolling his body so that he can hold you in his arms, the two of you bask in the post sex haze of bliss as you try and steady your breaths to match each other. He doesn’t speak, just places soft kisses to your shoulders and back as he holds you closely. 
“I have to pee,” you whine after a few minutes, wriggling to get out of his grasp.
“Stay like this for a few minutes more, I want to make sure that by spring, you will be plump and round with my son.”
You honor his request, enjoying the embrace so much you fall asleep and forget to pee for several hours. 
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9 months later
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The kingdom rejoices from the announcement of the first heir to the throne being born, a beautiful baby boy with hair like his mother and eyes like his father.
You are given a new role within the palace, taking care of the palace babies, as it seems several have been born, including your own with Jeon Jungkook. 
As you nurse your child, another woman helps with changing diapers.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing, eight palace babies born within the same moon cycle!”
“Hmm,” you ponder, turning to her to respond, “must have been something in the air.”
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jjungkookislife · 3 months ago
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Good Kitty
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ღ pairing: boyfriend!taehyung x fem. reader x boyfriend’s bff!jungkook
ღ genre: established relationship au, fwb, smut [18+)
ღ summary: Sometimes you need to curl up under your boyfriend’s desk to suck him off while he games and calls you a good kitty.
ღ wc: 2.5k
ღ warnings: cursing, bdsm undertones, daddy!tae aka daddy kink, brat!reader, some degradation, voyeurism (over voice chat and video call/photos), rough oral sex (f. giving), sloppy bj (with lots of drooling and crying), bd!tae, spit kink, cock slapping, mutual masturbation, pet names (kitten, kitty, baby, baby girl, etc), pet play (oc lies on a pet bed and has a cage), cum swallowing, cum facial
ღ a/n: I’d love to hear from you here if you enjoy this fic <3
ღ date: June 16, 2022
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Taehyung’s gaming area was sacred. It took up more than half the spare bedroom in your shared apartment and sat across from your pretty pink gaming setup. You often game together when possible, but your interest came and went as often as the seasons changed.
Tonight, Taehyung had finished up a stream and decided to continue playing with Jungkook on the line. When Taehyung had caught sight of your bored face, he had moved his black chair out of the way.
“Come sit, baby,” he said in a deep tone that left no room for argument. You stumbled over yourself as you crawled toward the plush cushion under his desk specifically for you.
Taehyung smiles warmly down at you, his hand patting your head. “That’s a good girl.”
You melt.
Usually, you’d have one of your headbands on, but you’d forgotten it in your bathroom while washing your face. You knew Taehyung’s nights often went on into the early morning, and tonight was no different. You sat on your pink bed, your head resting on his lap as you tugged on the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him.
Taehyung didn’t care. He loved when you wore his clothes with nothing else underneath, and tonight was no different.
“Focus!” Jungkook shouts into Taehyung’s headphones.
“I am. Have you forgotten who's gotten us this far?” Taehyung responds with a tick of his head.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters before shutting up. Taehyung smirks.
You rest your head on Taehyung’s thighs for a while, just listening to him converse with Jungkook over their game. He curses here and there, and his knee jerks at one point.
“Shit, sorry, Kitten.”
“It’s okay, Daddy.” You whisper.
Taehyung looks away from his screen, raising a brow. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not?” Comes Jungkook’s perplexed reply.
“Not you,” Taehyung huffs in annoyance. “I was talking to Kitten.”
“Oh? Is she joining us?” Jungkook asks.
“No, she’s in her feline mood,” Taehyung answers as you rub your cheek on his pajama bottoms before looking up at him.
“Ooh, am I in for a treat, then?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Only if you want to stick around. I can’t promise anything,” Taehyung shrugs as your hands rub up and down his thighs. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re tugging them down to his ankles.
“That’s fine,” Jungkook says before he’s cursing, his focus back on the game as he gets shot at.
Taehyung stops patting your head, and you huff, your manicured nails digging into his thigh a little rough.
“Kitty!” Taehyung chastises, but you pout as you try to regain his attention.  
“Claws?” Jungkook jokes, a witness to your catty behavior a handful of times.
“Yes,” Tae looks down at you with a stern gaze. “Seems she can’t keep her hands to herself tonight. Might have to give her something to do.”
You nod enthusiastically, and your boyfriend laughs. “Only if you’re a good girl, Kitten. Bad girls don’t get rewarded.”
“Yes, daddy,” you nod, and Jungkook curses.
Taehyung gives the game his full attention, complacent with you touching his legs and tugging at his shirt every so often. It’s not until your palm pressed against his crotch that he jerks.
“Kitten!” He rasps as he looks down at you.
Taehyung clicks his tongue. He knows better than to fall for your little facade. You smirk, moving back until you’re lying on your small bed.
After all, it was your brattiness that had him hooked on you when you first met.
You occupy yourself with your phone for a few minutes, long enough for Taehyung to forget about you while he’s grunting and cursing as he gets killed.
“That was bull!” He exclaims as he runs a hand through his mess of curly locks. Jungkook cackles in his ears as he agrees, but waits for his best friend to respawn.
When Taehyung is back in the game, you crawl closer to him to palm his cock. This time, he’s too focused to acknowledge you, so you continue playing with his cock until he slowly grows hard.
Smiling to yourself, you tug his plaid pajama bottoms harshly. Taehyung gasps at your actions but only has a split second to avoid being killed in the game.
“Bad kitty!”
“Fuck, is she starting?” Jungkook groans, biting his lip. Taehyung chuckles. “Possibly.”
Looking down at you, Taehyung strokes your face to get your attention. “What do you need daddy to do?”
“Nothing, daddy. Play your game,” you respond softly as your hand wraps around him over his boxers. Taehyung sags into his chair, frowning when you squeeze his length harder than necessary.
You grin as you lean in closer to Tae. Your tongue traces his cock over his boxers. You mouth it, soaking the black material as Tae curses your name.  
“Good Kitty.”
Encouraged by his words, you tug on his boxers, and he lifts his hips off the chair to help you pull them all the way off. His cock slaps against his belly, hard and dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth waters at the sight as he lifts his shirt higher to not stain it.
“Fuck, daddy,” you lick your lips as you stare heatedly at his cock, already feeling the soreness in your throat. Taehyung chuckles, gripping his cock at the base and slapping your cheek. He groans when you stick your tongue out to lick it.
“You just can’t be satisfied with what I give you. You always have to take a little more?” Huh, Kitten?”
“Sorry, daddy. Just hungry,” you giggle as he slaps your face again but leans back in his chair, ignoring his friend’s cursing in his headset.
“Have at it, Kitty.”
With his verbal consent, you jump him. Your hand wraps around the base, but your fingers don’t meet, so you bring in your other hand, and your lips plant a wet kiss on the underside of his cock.
Taehyung smiles, ignoring you as he tries to keep his attention on the screen. You know you’re on your own for now, and that’s perfectly okay as you lower your mouth on the head. Gently you suckle it, tongue swirling slowly around him for a moment before you’re pulled off and get comfortable on your knees.
This is a position you’ve been in plenty of times. Under Tae’s desk on your pet bed with his cock in your mouth, your face on his lap as you suck him off. You’re not in a rush, teasing his slit and slurping his pre-cum enthusiastically.
Taehyung’s groans and soft curses are music to your ears, knowing you’re still affecting him despite his icy demeanor. So you stay in your spot, cock in your mouth and face on his lap as he pets you. His fingers weave in your hair, gently moving his hand as he scratches gently. You moan around him, your whines muffled by his fat cock that sits heavy on your tongue and makes your small mouth ache.
“Such a good kitty for daddy. Look at you so pretty with my fat cock in your mouth. I bet you want me to cum down your throat and fill your belly too,” Taehyung smirks when you whine, thighs pressed together as his hand leaves your hair and moves to your breast. He takes a second to find your pert nipple, pinching it roughly to get you to scream. Your eyes glaze with lust and a bit of anger, but your hand moves between your thighs.
“You should see her, Kook,” Taehyung licks his lips as he looks down at you. “Stuffed full of my cock and rubbing her pathetic little clit. She’s so wet from sucking the head that she can’t even focus solely on me. What a bad kitty she is, don’t you think?” Taehyung grins with mischief as he disconnects the headset and allows Jungkook’s groan to come through his speakers.
Taehyung reaches for his phone, raising it in front of you. You nod as he takes a picture of you to send to Jungkook.
“Fuck,” Jungkook drags out the word, biting his lip as he stares at the gift from his friend. “She looks so hot.”
“You hear that, pretty Kitty? Jungkook thinks you look hot. How about you take your shirt off so he can see those pretty tits?” Taehyung squeezes your face, and you release his cock, making him curse when your spit still connects the two of you.
His game is long forgotten as he stares at you, cock throbbing as you take your shirt off.
Fully naked, Tae takes another picture for Jungkook, who sings his praises as he slides his tattooed hand into his pajama pants. He desperately wishes he was at your place.
“Daddy,” you whine, and Jungkook feels his cock throb in his hand. Fuck, what he wouldn’t do to have you call him that.
“Yes, baby? What do you need?” Taehyung sneers as he looks down at you, stroking his cock. You don’t answer him. Instead, you stick your tongue out for him to shove his cock back in your mouth.
Taehyung smirks. He takes a moment to collect a fat glob of spit and leans over your mouth. You bounce on your knees in excitement as he spits in your mouth, and you make a show of swallowing.
Taehyung pinches your cheeks roughly, keeping your mouth open before spitting in it again, and you try to thank him as he squeezes a little harder before he slides his tongue into your mouth.
“Good kitten,” he smiles with a pleasing look.
Taehyung sits back, allowing you to take control of his cock while he shuts off his game, but leaves his chat open.
“Come suck daddy’s cock, love,” Taehyung commands, and you eagerly take him in your mouth once again. It’s wet and sloppy, saliva dripping down his length to his balls, where you wander to lick him back to the tip.
Jungkook gets off on listening in, but the videos and pictures Taehyung sent continuously surely help. He’s been a guest in your bedroom here and there, more so after he stumbled into your pet bed and the cage you had in your bedroom when there were no pets in your apartment…
Slurping loudly, you make eye contact with Taehyung, taking him deeper only to gag and spit his cock out. He chuckles darkly, wiping the tears from your face and the mix of spit and pre-cum from your lips.
“You’re too overeager, Kitty. You can’t take on more than you can swallow. You’ll get hurt,” he warns sternly, and your cunt pulsates.
You nod. “Yes, daddy.”
Taehyung knows you’ll ignore his warning (as always), which is why he wraps his hand around his cock and stuffs it into your mouth, his finger blocking you from taking too much. Greedily you suck him off, tears running down your face and ruining the last bit of mascara that clung to your lashes after washing your face. The streaks mix with spit and pre-cum, and Tae sneers at the mess he made of your pretty face.
“That’s a good, pup,” he praises, and you whine. Not a pup.
“Fuck, she’s gonna make me cum all over my fucking hand,” Jungkook grunts, head lolling back onto his chair as his thighs and abdomen clench.
“Cum for her. Let her see the mess she makes of you, Kook. She loves that. Loves making men cum and licking it up after.” Taehyung raises a brow as if daring you to oppose him, but you don’t because it’s true. Nothing gets you off harder than knowing you’ve made your man and his best friend cum.
“Fuck, Taehyung! Kitten!” Jungkook groans, lost in himself, as you work overtime on Taehyung’s cock. He groans, falling back into his chair as you bob up and down his length, taking him until he hits the back of your throat and you swallow. Tears stream down your cheeks, and your nose starts to run as you drool all over Taehyung. He grips your hair in a handful, raising his hips off his chair as he thrusts in your throat. You cry out, moaning when he praises you for being his good girl. His good kitty as your hand moved between your legs to rub at your clit.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby girl. Come for us,” Taehyung encourages as Jungkook speaks his filth, trying to wait for you and Tae so he can cum, too. He edges himself, biting back a few sobs as his balls tighten and he grits his teeth. Taehyung hits video call on his phone, and now Jungkook’s got a front-row seat of your boyfriend fucking your throat raw, making it bulge.
“Ah-ah,” you cum hard. Sweet sounds muffled by Tae’s thick cock as he hits the back of your throat again and again before he grips your hair tightly and tries to hold his phone steady.
“I’m gonna cum,” he warns as he fucks your face harder, faster. He only pulls back enough to leave the blunt head in your mouth, your lips wrapped around it securely as he pulls it out to cum all over your face. You cough and shut your eyes as you get rewarded by spurt after spurt of hot cum coating your face.
Jungkook cums right after, nearly in tears as he falls limp into his chair.
“Daddy!” You exclaim in surprise despite being thrilled with the load on your face. Taehyung chuckles, gripping his still half-hard cock and putting it back in your mouth for you to lick clean. You do so, swirling your tongue around him and swallowing before he’s pulling you off him.
“Fuck, Kitten. You sure know how to make me weak in the knees.” Taehyung pants as he gives Jungkook a delightful view of your face. Jungkook shows you the mess he made of himself before wishing the two of you goodnight, thoroughly spent.
You lick around your lips, cleaning up any cum you can reach before Taehyung kisses you and pulls you up onto his lap.
He nuzzles his face into your neck as his hands squeeze your hips. “So good for me, Kitty. I love you.”
“Love you, daddy,” you respond as your fingers toy with his curly hair. He hums in response, his face still buried in your neck as he holds you to him. You sit with your boyfriend wrapped around you, enjoying the post-orgasm glow before he’s kissing you again, teeth scraping against your neck.
“Let’s go to bed, Kitten. It’s time you got your reward.”
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thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌
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© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
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chateautae · 2 months ago
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maybe i do: “one week without sex”
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➵ summary: when a small, petty argument spirals out of control, you and your husband settle on one solution to the problem; betting who can last the longest without sex. it won’t be easy, but you and taehyung are equally determined to win, and you’ll both stop at nothing to secure your victories—even if it means playing dirty. 
↳ part of the maybe i do series!
this drabble can be read as a stand alone, but it is highly recommended to read the series!
➵ pairing: ceo!taehyung x wife!reader
➵ genre: arranged marriage!au, established relationship!au, smut, minor angst, fluff
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 20k
➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption (both parties are able to consent), constant sexual teasing, high-class gang cameo!!, getting caught in the act 👀, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, D/s relationship, dom!tae, sub!reader, big dicc!tae, heavy making out, breast fondling, choking, finger sucking, male and female masturbation, sexting/phone sex, use of a sex toy (vibrator), exhibitionism + voyeurism (with each other), drunk sex, rough, needy sex, riding, hitting it from the back, impregnation kink, creampie <3
➵ a/n: and here it is!! again please excuse the ridiculous word count, i’m attempting to work through writing a sequel for the maybe i do series, so these “drabbles” are just me experimenting with the content! i’ll provide more details when I can heheh <33 thank you endlessly to my wife @amourtae​ for beta-ing!!! i hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated!
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“You’re gonna be late, honey, be quick.” 
“Who cares? I am not leaving you.” 
Taehyung’s hips bang against yours as he delivers precise, quick thrusts. The slapping sound of skin resounds erotically inside his office, even more so your laboured, hot breaths. 
“You need… to go faster, baby.” You manage to pant, fingers weaving through his thick, fluffy locks, rutting your perky breasts against his dress shirt. Taehyung’s desparate digits dig into your thighs as he plunges his cock inside you, each time burrowing further into your velvety, pulsing sex.
Deep, satisfied grunts leave Taehyung’s mouth just by yours, obsessed with your little breaths. He dips down and kisses you, long and deep. Your ass practically bounces backwards across his office desk when he accelerates the speed of his thrusts, propelling into your pussy as he devours your mouth. 
“Tae... the meeting...” 
“I’m trying to make a baby with my wife,” Taehyung ruggedly breathes, lips hot on yours. “A meeting can wait.” 
“You’re already-ngh, fifteen minutes late, ba-by.” You warn him, clutching around his neck for dear life as his cock slams inside you, ceaselessly throbbing. 
How you ended up in this erotic situation? You didn’t expect what Taehyung labelled a quickie to morph into a scene straight out of porn—your outfit for today apparently tempted your husband beyond his control. 
His salacious eyes told you a carnal tale once you visited him for a minor report check, and now your boobs lasciviously jostle against him, spilling out of your top he stripped open, your panties carelessly flung across his chair. 
Taehyung spent his precious, limited window of time before his meeting happily licking and sucking your nipples, dirty-talking you about the hot milf you’ll become once you’re carrying your child; and now his thick length is lodged inside you, fucking into your stomach. 
“Tae...” you sigh, nails scratching down the back of his strong neck. His pillowy lips envelope your neck, leaving addicting kisses down your throat—your pussy violently pulses. 
“Fuck, you make me so hard.” He growls against your heated skin, his hands spreading your thighs to clutch them tighter, something feral possessing him. He leans back to his full height, prying you wide open to suddenly hammer into your tight cunt.
High-pitched moans ceaselessly tumble out of you, soon met by Taehyung’s animalistic groans, praising you and your goddess-like pussy. “Shit, Princess, I swear I’m addicted to you.” He breathes, licking the bite marks he leaves along your pulse point. “Fucking best pussy in the world.” 
Your hand haphazardly reaches behind you, crumpling some of his paperwork as your sex devours his mighty thrusts, bracing for impact. Your lewd noises are endless, watching the way his dick disappears inside you, soon met by Taehyung’s fiery kiss. 
You reciprocate it, moving your mouth in sync with his until you scrounge up a semblance of common sense. “Baby... your meeting...ah!” 
“Fuck them, fuck the meeting.” Taehyung tosses aside all care to plough into your dripping sex. Your pussy juices incessantly flow out of you, fucked to your absolute limit as he feeds your impending orgasm. 
His lips are hot and heavy, only disconnecting to lean against your forehead, his breaths utterly delirious. “Come for me, Y/N.” He pants, pushing your legs back to plunge himself deeper. “Wanna hear my pretty wife come.” He grunts, burrowing his thick, spasming flesh so deep inside you, he caresses your cervix—you instantly cry out. 
“Fuck, Tae!” 
“C’mon, Princess,” Taehyung encourages by your lips. “Soak my dick, baby; let me feel it.” 
He only drives you towards the edge faster, crashing his lips against yours for a heated makeout session. You feel a tight knot bundling inside the bottom of your stomach, begging for release. 
“Fuck me, oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck!” He curses loudly, biting your bottom lip as he’s forced to slow down. “I’m gonna fucking explode, I can’t last.” 
“Me neither.” You whimper like a pathetic whore, sighing with paradisiacal relief—he just hit every spot inside you. 
Relishing in your spongy walls, Taehyung renews his rhymically fast pace that harmonizes your pornographic moans, growing louder, and louder, and louder as your orgasm unravels—
“Mr. Ki–oh dear God!” 
Taehyung comes to an abrupt stop that sucks the soul out of you, his eyes widening in horror. You glance back to share his line of sight—your jaw simultaneously drops to the center of the Earth.
“Oh my fuck—Mrs. Lee!!” You screech, finding her shielding her eyes as she hides behind Taehyung’s office door. Irreversible embarrassment colours your system, Taehyung protectively concealing your naked front against his chest. 
“Mrs. Lee, shit, why didn’t you call me?” He harshly questions.
“I-I tried to Mr. Kim, but you didn’t pick up.” The secretary nervously responds. “The board members are becoming impatient, sir, they instructed me to come find you.” 
Taehyung lets out the most irritated sigh in his life. He reluctantly draws out of your sex once he glimpses at the door, ensuring Mrs. Lee was out of sight. Locating your blazer, he hands it to you, sympathy riddling his features once he sees the shame on your face, helping you shield your exposed boobs. 
“Can’t you at least knock? Didn’t that goddamn occur to you?” Taehyung reprimands her, his tone laced with frustration as you remain mortified, near tears because of the embarrassment. 
“I tried, Mr. Kim, though I don’t—” she hesitates behind the door. “I don’t believe you heard me.” 
Grinding his teeth, Taehyung works himself back into his boxers, tugging up his pants to re-clasp his belt. “Jesus Christ, Mrs. Lee, tell the members I’ll be there in five. And don’t ever breathe a word of this to anyone—you didn’t see anything.” He rigidly demands, soon listening to his secretary’s incessant apologies. 
“I sincerely apologize, Mr. Kim. I’ll let them know immediately and I won’t tell a soul.” The poor lady sounds as though she’s on the verge of sobbing, shutting the door quickly before she vanishes. 
Taehyung huffs out angrily, shrugging his coat back on. His soft hand cradles your face, incredibly attentive. “Are you alright, Princess?” 
“God, Taehyung, that was so embarrassing!” You screech, shoving your blazer against your naked front before hopping off his desk. “You really couldn’t fucking wait until your meeting was over?” 
Taehyung’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, a playful smile tugging his lips. “Princess, it’s alright. It’s actually kind of funny that she caught us.” 
Disgusted, you narrow your eyes at him. “Fuck off, Tae, this isn’t funny! That was utterly embarrassing.”
“Baby, this is going to be something we’ll laugh about together, don’t worry.” Taehyung attempts to lighten your mood, chuckling as he fixes his tie.
You’re filled with crippling humiliation, however, storming away from him. You’re unable to share his light-heartedness—you told Taehyung he was going to be late for his meeting, and yet he didn’t listen to you. “Don’t tell me not to worry, asshole, I told you you were late for this meeting and you just didn’t listen.” You begin searching for your panties he’d slung somewhere, utterly annoyed.  “Now I’ve just been completely humiliated. I don’t think I can look Mrs. Lee in the eye again!” 
Sighing, Taehyung perches his hands on his hips. “Baby, it’s fine. It was just Mrs. Lee—I’m sure she hears us all the time whenever we have sex in my office.” He waves off. “I’m just glad it wasn’t a man; I would’ve had to kill him, otherwise.” 
Mortified, you snap an irritated look at him, tightly clutching your bare chest. “That is not the same as her finding you balls deep inside me, it doesn’t matter who found us. Why couldn’t you just listen to me when I said we could have sex after your meeting? We could’ve entirely avoided that.” 
Taehyung softens at your anger, gesturing for you to be at ease. “Princess, people have sex all the time, and people walk in on people having sex all the time. It’s normal, you’ll be fine.” 
Fed up with him, you exhale a scoff. Locating your panties on his chair, you shimmy them on. “God, you’re so irritating sometimes. I don’t want anyone walking in on us having sex, Taehyung. I don’t want anybody fucking seeing that, especially me.” 
Rubbing his temple, Taehyung notices the frailty of your vulnerable tone paired with your glistening eyes, searching for a solution. He lets out a long, deep sigh, watching you tug your bra back over your breasts. “Baby, I’m sure Mrs. Lee knows what sex is and how much of it we have—pretty much everyone does. Not to mention everyone also knows we’re trying to get pregnant, and it’s normal for conceiving couples to constantly have sex, what’s your deal?”
You can’t believe his audacity right now, shaking your head. He doesn’t understand that you feel uncomfortable being seen like that, irrevocable shame spreading across your entire system—you tightly clutch your body to hide it. “You just can’t go a goddamn day without getting your dick wet, isn’t that it? You really couldn’t wait the half an hour your meeting would’ve taken before you blew your load inside me? Was it really that difficult?” 
Taehyung’s face immediately twists with disgust. “What the fuck? Don’t make it sound like that;  I just wanted to make love to my gorgeous wife so we can start a family, why are you getting mad at me?” 
“Because you really can’t fucking keep it in your pants!” You blow up, tugging your dress pants back up your legs, soon buttoning your blouse. “And now I’m left with an uncomfortable, mortifying memory because of you!” 
“What? You literally went along with it, you can’t keep it in your pants, either!” Taehyung argues back, accusingly pointing a finger. 
“God, you know what? I bet you can’t even go a day without us having sex.” You challenge him, your husband scoffing behind his desk.
“You’re talking to me as if I don’t know self-control?” He barks. “You’re horny all the time! I bet you can’t go two days without my dick.” 
Agitated by his boyish attitude, you childishly counter him. “Oh yeah? I bet you can’t go three days without my pussy!” 
“I bet you can’t go four days!”
“Five days!” 
“Six days!” 
“Ugh!” You frustratingly grunt, tucking your blazer over your arm. 
You shove your husband aside to retrieve the work you originally came with. Your eyes bore into his, ploughing your finger into his broad chest. “A week, I bet you can’t go an entire week without sex, you sex beast!” 
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how long you last before you’re craving our sex again—you wouldn’t last three days with your libido, woman!” Taehyung dramatically gesticulates, clearly as wound up as you. 
 “Says my idiot husband who comes in me at least twice a day, your libido won’t last either!” You challenge him before vexedly stomping away, grabbing his office door’s handle.
“Are you challenging me, Mrs. Kim?” Taehyung leans his delectable hands on the surface of his desk, narrowing his eyes from across the room. If you weren’t so used to your husband’s fierce, sexy eyes, you would’ve folded right then. “Because I assure you, I haven’t lost a day in my life, and I don’t plan on starting now.” 
Scoffing at his use of his CEO voice, you strengthen your own. “Wrong, you’re getting taken down, Mr. Kim, and it’ll be by your dear wife.” You condescendingly smile. 
He huffs, folding his arms over his chest as you pry open his door, calling out to you. “Then my dear wife doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into, she’s going to lose!” 
Not giving a fuck anymore, you power-walk out of his office. “You’re late for your meeting, Kim!” You holler, sending him a gracious middle finger before pointedly slamming the door shut. 
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“Yes, I need you to authorize the transaction, Jimin.” Taehyung fixes his Gucci glasses on his face, scribbling away on his Surface. “He’s an important associate of mine, he came all the way from Hong Kong. I want him in a nice room for the weekend.” 
Later that evening, you attempt to drown out Taehyung’s business talk. You were currently occupying your swing on your backyard’s porch, indulging in some light reading to at least keep your distance from your infuriating husband. 
But alas, you live in the same house as him, so ignoring him was a lost cause.
You’re seriously unsure why Taehyung decided to conduct his business after hours downstairs, even that, in the entertainment area. His constant chatter was distracting you from reading, having already sent him death glares from outside on multiple occasions, only for him to shoot a mocking look back. 
He usually used the library or his study for work, though it seems he didn’t intend to exactly work, either. He’s dressed in his home clothes; a loose white, Celine t-shirt with baggy, black shorts. He only ever used his glasses whenever he was diligently reading—perhaps he originally intended on scrolling through some news on his Surface.
“Huh? I don’t know, I’m a little stressed, I guess.” He suddenly replies; Jimin being the sweetheart he is most likely asked him how he’s doing. 
“Yeah, he’s a fucking tycoon in Hong Kong, I’m seriously hoping he takes up my proposal.” Taehyung complains. “It’s stressing me out; I need to be able to distribute in Hong Kong and I’ve heard he’s not big on involving himself with the Korean market.” 
Taehyung continues humming in acknowledgement or nodding, before his eyes suddenly shift in your direction. You scramble once he catches you watching him—his face suddenly scrunches into one of scrutiny. “I don’t know, Jimin, usually my wonderful wife helps me out with my stress, but she’s being an annoying brat right now.” 
Scoffing, you shake your head with disbelief, staring daggers at him through the ajar doors. 
“Fighting? Pft, no way. We totally aren’t fighting, not when she uselessly yells at me in my own office when I did nothing wrong.”
Done with his crap, you slam your book shut, stomping inside the house. “You liar! You fucking deserved it, Kim!” 
“I didn’t deserve shit!” Taehyung barks back, not even minding that he’s on call. “How’d you feel after that denied orgasm today, huh? Sure you’re not going to rub one out without me right now?” 
Exclaiming with disbelief, you threaten to throw your book at him. “You-! Have fun coming into some fucking tissues instead of my cunt, asshole!” 
That’s the last thing you get out before thrashing your feet up the stairs, listening to Taehyung yell a ‘whatever!’ as you whack your bedroom door shut.
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The next morning, you groggily awake in bed, despising the AM. You were glad you’d fallen asleep before Taehyung crawled into bed last night; he must’ve stayed up late. Craning your neck over your shoulder, you find him fast asleep next to you. 
He’s laying on his side; his left hand tucked underneath his bread-like cheek, his right loosely cradling your bare waist. It seems he got hot during the night—the blanket was completely kicked off his feet. 
Remembering that you’re pissed at him, you remove his arm—it didn’t matter how cute he looked when he slept, or that he cuddled you to fall asleep, or that he was right; your denied orgasm yesterday left the sight of his bare body igniting heat between your legs. 
Clearing your throat, you make your way towards your bathroom to start your day, forcing yourself to ignore the invasive memory of sucking Taehyung off in the shower two days ago.
Finishing up, you carelessly waltz out to find your sleepy husband half-awake in bed, scrolling through his phone. Your gazes meet when he glances up—you dab your damp face with a towel. 
“You’re up early.” He flatly notes, returning to his phone.
“I fell asleep early last night, genius.” 
He sighs upon hearing your attitude, raking a hand through his beautiful head of hair. “Are you coming to work with me today? Or should I call Mr. Kang to drive you?” 
Lightly scoffing, you toss your towel in your hamper. “I can drive myself. It’s the 21st century, Taehyung.” 
He decides it’s too early for your snarky comebacks, waving you off. “Yeah, yeah.” He casts the duvet off himself, rubbing his sleep-laden eyes. 
You haughtily step towards your walk-in closet, determined to ignore his presence for the rest of the day, before Taehyung suddenly stops by the bathroom. He scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shuffling his feet—he seems to be contemplating something. “Um… Princess, listen.” 
He’s still willingly calling you princess? He usually doesn’t when he’s pissed at you. That puts a small smile on your face, schooling it when you tip your chin in his direction. “What?” 
“I did some thinking about… yesterday.” He begins with a wince, choosing his words carefully. “I realized I was insensitive to laugh about what happened, or suggest that you should laugh too. I should've acknowledged that you felt uncomfortable being seen intimately or naked like that, regardless of who saw us.” He admits. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine your feelings.” 
Surprised by his apology, you stare at him wide-eyed, speechless. Taehyung merely stands with puffed cheeks, incredibly displaced. He awkwardly blows out air once he discerns you won’t say anything. “Right, I’m gonna wash up.” 
He begins stepping towards the bathroom until you stop him. “Taehyung, wait.” 
He swivels around, his sweet, coffee brown eyes meeting yours. 
“Th-thank you.” You swallow, awkward about this too. Taehyung has always been an aware, accountable man able to read between the lines, a trait of his you thanked the heavens for. He never apologizes in the midst of a fight, however. He always adored proving you wrong, currently leaving your jaw figuratively attached to the floor.
“No problem.” He nods, before disappearing into your shared bathroom. 
You’re left extremely conflicted. On one hand, maybe you should end whatever childish war you both started; he’s already acknowledged his mistake and was genine about it. One the other, you’re curious as to how Taehyung would fare without your sex; would he be able to last like he says? 
Curious, you decide on ruffling his feathers today, nibbling on a mischievous smile. You spin around to skip towards your walk-in closet, only cunningness in mind. 
Your fingers coquettishly graze the ‘scandalous’ section of your wardrobe. 
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You knock against Taehyung’s office door before propping it open, peeking inside. Taehyung hasn’t noticed your presence yet, too absorbed in his work. You find him standing as he diligently reads papers, grazing his perfect, slender fingers across the sheets. He appears strikingly handsome, thin glasses adorning his face, his rolled up dress shirt sleeves deliciously showcasing his biceps. 
“If you’re someone that isn’t my wife, please leave and speak to my secretary.” His caramel-smooth, though commanding voice sparks something inside you, swallowing it away. A smirk soon forms on your face, shutting the door. 
“Thankfully it is your wife, Mr. Kim.” 
He lifts his gaze to acknowledge you, though upon doing so, his eyes widen in shock. He observes you in your entirety, blinking multiple times before he finds your line of sight—his irises harden with seriousness. “What are you wearing?” 
Tipping your chin, you fold your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight onto one leg. “What do you mean?” 
Your condescending tone causes Taehyung’s eyes to narrow, scrutinizing you. “I asked; what the fuck are you wearing?” 
Scoffing at his tone, you tilt your head, attitude laced in your comeback. “Maybe you should ask me nicely, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung swallows, watching his Adam’s apple bob before he wets his lips. He lifts one of his gorgeous hands to fix his glasses, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. What are you wearing, Jagiya?” He voices much more politely, and you send him an accomplished smile. 
“I’m just wearing one of my regular office outfits.” 
“But why are you wearing one entirely in ruby red?” He challenges, watching his eyes intending to be reprimanding, but they have the slightest hint of lust. He’s not going to survive this one, at all. 
“What’s the matter with me wearing an all-red outfit?” You mount a hand on your hip, keeping his eyes hostage.
Your husband scoffs. His digits clutch his mouth, tracing the outline of his luscious lips until he cradles his masculine, impeccably-carved chin. “You know what the matter is.” 
Feeling playful, you decide to push his buttons. Your walk is alluring as you make your way towards Taehyung’s desk, your each step slow, purposeful. You challenge his fierce eyes with your tempting ones, inviting him into your trap. Reaching his desk, you confidently strut in front of him, allowing him to catch a view of your shapely curves in your form-fitting outfit. 
All you were really wearing was a tight pencil skirt with a short peplum top. The neckline only cut low enough that the cleavage was tasteful. What had to be ruining Taehyung was the colour; he adores red on you, and can never keep his hands to himself whenever you wear it—not to mention when you pair it with a skirt so tight your ass looks biteable, and ruby-coloured lips to match.
You lean a hand on his desk as you peer up at him; you swear it was like you were facing the devil. 
“Actually, I don’t know, Mr. Kim.” You play dumb, your innocent eyes and sweet tone causing Taehyung to flex his jaw, but he remains stoic, arms folded with a schooled face. 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, examining you up and down. “Are those the red diamond earrings I gave you in Rome?” 
Tilting your head, you step closer to him. “Yes.” 
“You do know red diamonds cost a million dollars per carat, right?” Taehyung reminds you—you take another step closer.
“Yes.” 
“And the earrings I gave you have 6 carats worth of red diamonds?” 
“Yes.” 
“So you’re wearing my $6 million earrings to work?” He cocks a brow, scrutinizing you. “Why in god’s name are you wearing them?” 
Nibbling your velvety, red lip, you nonchalantly shrug, adopting his sense of unbotheredness. “No reason.” 
Taehyung merely sighs; he knows you’re doing this to fuck with him. He stalks towards his office chair and plops down, tucking both his hands behind his head as he kicks his feet up on his desk, eyeing you with his sexy, dark eyes. “Well, is our business done here?” He condescendingly questions. “Or do you need to stand there and prove your point longer?” 
Shocked by his audacity, you laugh through your scoff. You swat his feet off the desk, his legs collapsing to the floor as you promiscuously seat yourself where they were. You lean your hands back, crossing your legs to seductively present yourself—your husband angrily glares at you. 
“Actually, our business isn’t done.” You snark. “I still need to prove you’re a sex-hungry beast, which shouldn’t take more than…” You purposefully peek at the watch on your wrist. “What? 3 minutes? Before you need to get your dick wet?” 
Taehyung dips his head with a sigh, leaning his elbows on his manspread knees. “Are you really still on about that?” 
“Yes, I am.” You bite back. “Especially after you decided to wage a war you knew you’d never win, and accuse me of being the loser.” 
Taehyung shakes his head, bitterly chuckling. “You’re really fucking funny if you think I’m the one who started this; it was literally you, babe.” 
“Awh, can Taehyungie not step up to the challenege?” You overly pout. “Is he afraid of being a sore loser?” 
Taehyung massages his temple, puffing air through his lips. “My god, this woman of mine is impossible.” 
Without warning, you suddenly advance towards him, hands shackling onto the armrests of his chair. He lets out a soft exhale when you bring your lips just before his, piercing his eyes with a carnal look of lust. “And you’re incredibly sexy, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung shifts his hips in his seat, the column of his throat bobbing as he stares you down, but his eyes reveal his failing composure. “This has to be against the rules.” 
Your hands slide over Taehyung’s delicious thighs, slowly stroking him. His lap twitches in response, subduing the sound he almost lets out. 
“What rules?” You coo. 
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut when you move an inch towards his crotch, laughing through his struggle. “This is unfair, baby. You’re evil.” 
“Me? Evil? Never.” You purr with a saccharine sweet tone, letting your hands skim closer to his cock. Taehyung exhales harshly as he challenges you with his eyes, flaring with anger. But, you only draw closer, enough that your lips are separated by a mere hair’s length. “I’m just making sure you know who's going to win, loverboy.” 
You quickly peck his lips, trailing a finger along the side of his jaw, your voice seductive as ever. “And by the way, I’m wearing your favourite red set underneath.” 
Taehyung nearly chokes as you draw away from him, swaying your hips as you take your leave. Your husband storms behind his desk, hearing him rapidly rise from his chair with his comedic accusations. “You’re evil, you’re evil I tell you!” 
Maniacally giggling, you continue your walk out, listening to your husband throw a fit. “How can you wear those lace garters knowing I can’t rip them off? You witch!” 
You hide your innocent chuckle behind your hand, daring to turn and provide him with a small tease of what you’re wearing underneath. Once the said lace garters meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw drops—he’s even livelier than before.
“Wait until you’re home, Kim Y/N!” He valiantly shouts. “You’re not going to win!” 
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“Ah fuck,” you curse, nearly knocking into the wall. You lazily remove your shoes in the foyer, your system a bit wonky after some drinks with your co-workers tonight. You toss the contraptions aside, wearily checking your bag for your phone. 
“Honey, I’m home!!” You call out, not certain when Taehyung arrived home. You’d decided to indulge in a night out to avoid coming home to him today; you knew you’d ruffled his feathers a little too much, and you were unsure how your husband would retaliate. 
Hearing silence, you groan, contemplating that he’s either not home, or most likely asleep. You welcome that possibility, tuckered out yourself. Sluggishly stalking up the stairs, you paddle towards your bedroom door with a yawn, seriously awaiting some well-needed shut-eye. 
Your senses are currently haywire, so you’re unable to hear or see much, which makes the next minutes of your life completely unforeseen. When you mindlessly open the door of your bedroom, your jaw drops to the center of the Earth, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. 
You find your husband openly masturbating in bed. 
Now that you focus, the sound of slapping skin and laboured groans should’ve clued you into his salacious activities, but you’re clearly too dense. “Taehyung, what the fuck?” 
Your voice causes Taehyung to open his eyes, landing on you as he breathes unevenly. Sweat glistened upon his honey-coloured skin, his pillowy lips hung open, chest rapidly inflating and deflating. 
What surprises you the most is Taehyung doesn’t even appear the slightest bit embarrassed, no, your husband has the smuggest smirk plastered on his handsome face. He doesn’t stop his movements, either, rather slowly strokes his cock, almost as though he were teasing you, inviting you to join his raunchy shenanigans. 
And fuck, did the alcohol in your system kill your defence mechanisms, pussy pulsing at the sight of his throbbing, hard, thick flesh in his palm. 
“Welcome home, babe.” Your scheming husband smiles, continuing to beat his goddamn meat, completely unbothered by your presence—you feel like a fuse short-circuiting. “K-Kim Taehyung, I asked you a question!” 
“What am I doing?” He condescendly repeats. “I’m doing what you should be doing.”
You huff when Taehyung dares letting out a deep, mellow groan, fucking into his fist faster, his stomach muscles contracting as he no doubt reaches his high. You wish you could tear your eyes away, but the sight of his cock makes your mouth water, your lady bits tingling. 
How much you want to run over and spear yourself on his dick. 
Snapping out of your trance, you stand your ground. “Taehyung, my loving, kind, dear husband, may you please put your cock away?” 
“Why?” 
Infuriated, you grind your teeth. “Because… Because this is unfair! You can’t just have your dick out like this!” 
“Why not? You’re the same person who literally wore the sexiest outfit possible to work and made me want to rail you over my desk.” 
Smacking your hand to your forehead, you attempt to calm down, searching for a solution—funny how he still hasn’t stopped masturbating, weakening your guard. “Taehyung, this is cruel. You can’t be touching yourself in front of me, there has to be rules in this war. Every war has rules!” 
“Says the woman who literally flashed me her underwear and said ‘what rules?’.” Taehyung retorts, returning to his regular program. He suddenly squeezes the head of his meat that elicits a deep, masculine moan from him; the sound literally hardens your nipples, dampening your panties. 
“Ugh! You’re the worst, the worst!” You shout, throwing your hands up in the air. 
Taehyung dips his head back with a laugh, sending you the most shit-eating grin in the world. “All you have to do to end your suffering is come here and sit on this dick, baby. That’s all it takes.” 
His words stir something hot inside you, biting down on your teeth to subdue your horniness—you’re quite literally seconds away from throwing away your pride and straddling him. But, you then realize it’s what he wants; your husband is incredibly clever at gaining his way, and you won’t let him win. 
Never. 
“Fuck you, if you wanna play dirty, then that’s how we’re playing.” You point a scolding finger at him, met by your husband’s amused expression, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 
“We already play pretty dirty, babe.” 
Wanting to throttle the irritatingly gorgeous man, you huff out with annoyance and flash him a middle finger before disappearing into your bathroom, slamming the door shut. 
“You better not have your cock out by the time I’m out of here, asshole!” 
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You watch Taehyung get ready for the day with your arms folded over your naked breasts, legs kicked up on the bed with an irked expression. You’d washed up for the morning, but after Taehyung’s little stunt last night, you’re too pissed at him to continue your day, watching the infuriating man hum along to a useless tune as he knots his tie in the mirror. 
He steals a glance at you through his reflection; you avert your eyes, incessantly wiggling your foot. 
“Are you not coming to work, Jagiya?” He asks with a purposefully sweet tone.
Smacking your lips, you remove the clip from your hair, letting your strands loose and comfortably reclining in bed. “No.” 
Humming in acknowledgement, Taehyung completes his tie. He tosses on his Louis Vuitton suit jacket next, adjusting the buttons of his sleeves. “Any particular reason for your absence, Mrs. Kim?” 
You pop an eye open, shooting him a scrutinizing look. “My company‘s asshole CEO.” 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, amusedly smirking. He reaches out for his laptop case, glimpsing at himself one last time in the mirror before he approaches you. 
“Well, your asshole CEO’s off, then.” He jests, landing a warm palm on your shoulder to kiss your cheek. The domestic gesture makes your heart flutter, attempting to remain unphased when his soft lips press against your skin. “Eat a good breakfast and lunch before I’m home, pretty girl.” He reminds you as he smooths your hair. 
When he pulls away to leave, your hand grapples onto his wrist, stopping him. “Wait.” 
He faces you, eyebrows raised in anticipation. You purse your lips together and shuffle over to him, tugging him closer to you. You spring up onto your knees, now levelled with his chest—your hands curl around his tie. 
You silently fix the loose knotting, tidying it up. He observes you with a schooled face, unevenly swallowing. Your smaller hands smooth over his impeccable suit once you’re finished, sliding towards his biceps to hold them. 
You lift your eyes to meet Taehyung’s coffee brown irises, observing him. Taehyung peers back at you, caught in a silent, magnetic gaze with one another. You flit towards his wide, pillowy lips, tempted by their perfect shape, and you lean forward to softly kiss him. 
Taehyung’s eyebrows climb at the gesture, confused when you pull away. You cock a brow in response, tone haughty. “What? I can’t kiss my husband before he goes to work?” 
Suppressing a smile, Taehyung lightly scoffs, wrapping an arm around your naked torso and pressing his lips to yours. You feed into his kiss, an arm clinging to his neck as the other splays across his jaw. You kiss him harder, driven by Taehyung squishing your bare boobs against his tailored suit. 
He lightly groans when your tongue teases the seam on his mouth; he’s quick to open up. His tongue slips inside you, licking exploratively as you unabashedly make out with him, Taehyung’s movements growing hotter by the second. Your husband suddenly breaks away, a smirk plastered on his face. “Feels like we haven’t kissed in ages.” 
You laugh through your nose. “It’s only been two days, Taehyung.” 
“Two days too long.” 
Suddenly, Taehyung tosses aside his laptop case and cradles your figure in his arms, tackling you onto your bed. You yelp hitting the sheets, the sound muffled once Taehyung crashes his lips onto yours. 
He manuevers his mouth languidly but with a sense of roughness—desire. His long fingers slide into a hand of yours as the other curls around your neck, cupping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. He holds your face in place, kissing you hard and deep as he effortlessly takes control of your body—you’ve never felt anything more powerful. 
His hand around your throat slowly sinks past your collarbones, sliding down until your naked breast is within his palm. He squeezes you, slowly kneading the flesh as he simultaneously moves his body in the motion of thrusts—you whimper pathetically throughout the godly pleasure.
Taehyung lets out a deep, shaky groan when his hardening cock nudges your pussy folds, tightening the grasp around your breast. He pinches your nipple all of a sudden, moaning into his mouth. 
You’re seconds from biting his supple lower lip until you both hear a rhythmic buzzing. 
Taehyung pops off your mouth, cursing. “Fuck.” 
He fishes for his phone in the pocket of his dress pants, glimpsing at the caller—he accepts the call with an eye roll. 
“Hello? Yeah, I’m on my way.” He curtly informs, focusing on his conversation while you admire his slightly swollen, wide lips, and his stupidly handsome face. Even if you’re still pissed at him, it doesn’t make him any less stunning. 
“Oh, we got the report this morning? Then yes, I’ll be holding a meeting first thing in the morning. Mhm. Yup, right before the conference.” Taehyung continues for about a minute or so before he ends the call amicably, returning to you. 
“Alright, I have to go.” Taehyung proclaims with a sigh, tucking his phone away as he locates his laptop. Once he nabs it, he sends you a harsh look, lips scornfully pressed together. “And new rule: no kissing.” He tuts with a finger, crawling off your body and soon, your bed. “Only very quick pecks.” 
You bitterly scoff, rising from the mattress. “Not my fault you can’t control yourself, loverboy.” 
Taehyung playfully narrows his eyes at you as he fixes his suit. He approaches you to cradle your shoulder again, but instead kisses your forehead, long and affectionate. He draws away to gaze into your eyes, lifting your chin with a curl of his finger. “I’ll be going.” 
He pecks your plushy petals before stepping away, playfully tapping your underboob. “Wear a shirt of mine if you get cold.” 
You grumpily pout at him when he sends you a show-stopping grin—you can’t stand that he’s so perfect sometimes. You watch him disappear through the door, plopping down into your sheets with a frustrated huff. 
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“Ugh, look at him.” 
You kiss your teeth as you lay flat on your stomach, legs flailing in the air while watching on your laptop. It’s the live stream of Taehyung’s official announcement regarding his new subsidiary for learning centers. You’d completely forgotten that was today, though gladly your presence wasn’t needed for it. 
You dreamily sigh as you watch your husband confidently speak, pouting with your cheeks in your palms. Why did he have to be so good-looking? It’s a genuine question; you can imagine the amount of people currently fawning over him.
You, on the other hand, are semi-pissed. Not only did he have to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but being without his touch for two days now has left you squirming more than usual. Your makeout session didn’t help, either—you’d literally gushed buckets of cum by the time he left you laying on your bed. 
Frustrated, you groan grievously before smacking your laptop shut—if you ogle at him any longer, you’ll go insane. Anytime you see Taehyung being the ever-so composed, intimidating, professional CEO at work, your pussy never keeps quiet. 
Any time you watch him type away at his laptop or scribble across papers, your mind shifts towards those same hands shoving his digits inside you. Any time he licks, bites or touches his lips, all you consider is how he drags those same plushy petals along every part of your body, worshiping you. 
The worst is seeing his concentrated, gorgeous face—if only people knew how many times you’ve seen that same handsome face wedged between your legs, lapping at your cunt.
You slap your hands over your flustered face once your hormones begin settling between your legs. The constant ache within your sex is pulsing unavoidably, biting your lip to manage it. It didn’t help that you were still in bed, smelling his intoxicating scent in the sheets. 
You kick at them, feeling incredibly horny. His black Louis Vuitton shirt hugging your frame was exacerbating everything, constantly ruminating about how many times he’s fucked you in this shirt. 
Now you’re even worse off, bunching up the damn fabric in your hands to find some relief, to channel this throbbing within your pussy elsewhere, but it’s no use. You snake a hand down towards your core, pushing past the band of your underwear. When your fingers caress your sex, you instantly gasp. “Shit, I’m so wet.” 
The slick that oozes out of you is shocking; you swear you’ve never once leaked this much essence on your own. How is it possible that Taehyung makes you horny when he’s not even here? He’d have a field day knowing that, especially considering your little squabble at the moment. 
Recalling the very thing, your gears start shifting, contemplating a delicious revenge plot. His behaviour yesterday was utterly cruel, stroking his thick length right in front of you knowing you’re unable to do a thing. 
The second your fingers slightly move across your slick pussy folds, an idea pops into your head. 
Scrambling off your bed, you patter over towards the end of the hall, finding the most entertaining part of your home; your sex room. 
You giggle evilly, ready to place your plan into motion until you ram into a hurdle—Taehyung always locks the room. You curse, remembering that he proclaimed it’s to ensure you never venture in by yourself and either a) plan something sneaky behind his back, or b), use it to play with yourself. 
Funny how your husband knows you so well; you’re going to violate both rules. 
The universe shifts in your favour when you consider your options. You know Mrs. Choi and Seo own a copy of the key since they’re the ones who clean it; sometimes it amazes you how loyal the kind ladies are, they’ve never once judged a damn thing about your kinky sex life. 
You kiss your teeth once you consider they’re currently out, so it’s no use. You contemplate where Taehyung could possibly hide his copy of the key. Surely he’s smart enough to personally keep it on him, though has an extra in case one of the housekeepers loses theirs. Pacing the second floor, you constantly rummage through your mind attempting to figure out exactly where he could’ve stashed the copy. 
It’s only when your eyes land on your bedroom, do you finally have an ‘ah-hah’ moment. 
Your fingers clasp one of the brand new photos Taehyung framed in your bedroom; he’d enlarged your wedding photo to hang above your granite fireplace downstairs, replacing the frame he kept on his night table with a photo of you and him in New Zealand. 
You remember him explaining to you why he chose the distinct photo; he described your emotional New Zealand trip as a key moment he realized he’d love you for an eternity. At the time, the sentiment melted your heart considering the pressing situation then, desiring to have a closer look at the photo, but Taehyung had snatched the frame from your grasp, scolding you. 
He oddly claimed he didn’t want you to break the frame, and ordered you to never touch it. You’d simply let it go then, but something constantly nagged at you about his behaviour. 
Following your hunch, you grasp the frame to carefully open it. Once you lift the back, the smile that graces your face is utterly conniving—he hid the key behind your photo. 
It made perfect sense considering it’s out-of-the-box genius, just like your husband, but also someplace Taehyung could easily access, and one he’d also remember. 
Shuffling down the hall, you unlock the sex room to scour inside it. You faintly remembered the exact drawer Taehyung kept all the vibrators, letting your fingers brush over various sizes, shapes, and colours of the toys. 
Settling on a lilac wand, you snag it with eagerness, quickly shutting the drawer and door before returning to your bedroom. 
Leaping onto your bed, you snatch your phone off your night table, clicking on your conversation with Taehyung. You find his messages from two days ago, telling you to visit his office; if only he knew it would lead him to his downfall today.
[11:07 am]: taehyung 
Usually, Taehyung never took more than a few minutes to respond to you. Only if he’s urgently tending to something would he inform you he’s busy, though you know his conference ended 10 minutes ago; he’s most likely on his phone, anyway. 
You receive a read receipt a minute later, though Taehyung doesn’t text anything. You quirk a brow, tapping over your keyboard again. 
[11:09 am]: taehyung 
[11:09 am]: hello 
Again, the read receipts are there, though his messages remain non-existent. You grow annoyed, wondering if he’s possibly ignoring you—but even if he is, why would he leave the messages open to read? 
[11:10 am]: hello husband 
[11:10 am]:  husbiebun
[11:11 am]: most handsome man in the world
[11:11 am]: man that rocks my world 
[11:12 am]: man that owns my pussy
[11:14 am]: taehyung
[11:14 am]: baby
[11:14 am]: answer me 
[11:15 am]: i’m going to keep texting you until you respond to me 
[11:15 am]: Taehyung
[11:15 am]: Mr. Kim
[11:15 am]: tAEHYUNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Husbiebun <3: JESUS CHRIST THIS WOMAN
Husbiebun <3: i was going to message you but had to speak to an executive, I’m back in my office now 
Husbiebun <3: what did you need?? 
Feeling slightly guilty, you shove it away, reclining against your headboard as you toy with your underwear—you feel extremely compelled to tear it off. 
[11:15 am]: i’m sorry, i just wanted to talk to you
Husbiebun <3: it’s okay, what did you want to talk about? 
Husbiebun <3: are you not feeling well? 
Annoyingly endeared by him, you hide your flustered face behind a facade of seriousness. 
[11:15 am]: i wanted to facetime, are you free right now? 
Husbiebun <3: facetime? sure, i’m not exactly free but i can keep you on while i work
Husbiebun <3: i’ll call you in two minutes, love 
Feeling giddy inside, you physically force yourself to school your face—how could he still make you feel butterflies in your stomach when you’re more than a year into your relationship? 
You’re still that whipped for him, huh? 
Suddenly, Taehyung’s contact name with the precious photo you took of him in front of the Eiffel Tower lights up your screen, swiping to accept. 
The call connects, revealing Taehyung in his Gucci glasses, sitting behind his desk as he twiddles with a pen. He waves at you with a kind smile—his gorgeous face brings you instant ease. 
“Hey, Princess.” 
“Hi, Taehyung.” 
He masterfully twirls the pen in his hand as he refocuses on the sheets before him. You can’t exactly see his work—his phone is propped on his desk, though you can tell by the hot furrow in his brow he’s working hard. 
How incredibly sexy. 
“How’s your day been?” He affectionately queries, busy studying lines. 
“Good, I’ve been chilling in our room with my drawing tablet.” 
You see him crack a fond smile. “Have you eaten?” 
“Yes, I have.”
“Good.” He praises, nibbling his luscious bottom lip. “What did you eat?” 
You tap your chin attempting to remember. “I had avocado toast and a mango-pineapple fruit bowl.” You recall, soon having an ‘ah-hah’ moment. “Oh, and Mrs. Choi made me eat grapefruit and oranges this morning; I wonder why.”
“Ah, that’s good.” Taehyung brightens up, swiping his slender fingers over his laptop’s mouse pad, then referring to his sheets. “I asked Mrs. Choi and Seo to start serving you more citrus fruits; vitamin-C is good for getting pregnant.” 
Your cheeks instantly flush, impressed by his innate care and initiative—he’s so charming. “Oh, I didn’t know.” 
“Mm,” the deep hum of his baritone voice is hypnotizing, nearly melting your insides. “Always eat your fruits, Princess; good girls eat their fruits.” 
You fall silent secretly doting on him—sometimes he turns you into a complete pile of mush. Your bashful smile never wipes off your face, unable to contain the fluttering of your heart. By the time Taehyung glimpses at you through the camera, he notices, fondly chuckling. “What did you want to talk about, pretty girl?” 
You shyly pout watching him write, toying with the end of your shirt. “Honestly? Nothing much, I just watched your conference and thought about how…” you trail, speaking through protruded lips. 
“Hmm?” He mellifluously hums. “What did you think about?” 
You twiddle your fingers, stealing glances at his breath-taking side-profile; his beauty was truly carved by the gods. “I thought that you looked really handsome.”
Taehyung’s lips contort with a faint smile, inscribing his impeccable signature on a sheet. “You wanted to call me to tell me I looked handsome?” 
“Well, that; and I also considered how many other people probably thought the same thing, and I wanted you away from ogling eyes.” You haughtily explain, crossing your arms. 
Taehyung warmly chuckles; you adore the smile that graces his lips. “You’re a certified cutie, you know that?” 
Sheepish, you giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding a stupid grin. Taehyung glimpses in your direction at the sound, flipping a page. “I see you decided to wear clothes.” 
Flashing a look at your shirt, you narrow your eyes. “Why? You don’t like when I’m naked?” 
“I love when you’re naked,” he replies. “I just know you get cold.” 
You nearly scoff—Taehyung is sincerely too perfect sometimes. How can he make you feel horny, giddy, and absolutely adored within a matter of mere minutes? All while he’s not even here? It’s as though your anger towards him was dissipating, pissing you off.
Reminded of your original revenge scheme, you lay flat on your stomach, slowly pressing your body into the satin sheets. Kicking your legs up, you carelessly swing them while resting your cheek in your palm, closely watching him through the camera. “What would you have done if I wasn’t wearing clothes…” You voice seductively, biting your lip as you contemplate your next word. “Daddy?” 
Taehyung instantly cocks a brow as he pauses. “What did you just say?” 
“I just asked what my punishment would be for not wearing clothes right now, daddy.” 
Taehyung slowly smacks his lips, lightly laughing before he returns to his work. “I wouldn’t have done anything, honestly.” 
“Really?” You voice lilts with a question mark. “Nothing ruffles your feathers about me being home half-naked without you? What if a board member of yours sees you FaceTiming your wife with her boobs out?” 
Taehyung snorts, tapping his pen on his paper. “First of all, I only FaceTime or video call you in my office, and nobody comes in here without a scheduled appointment; except you.” He matter-of-factly states. “Second, it’s completely fine if your boobs are out at home; I see them all the time. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m good.” 
You ironically pout hearing his answer, heart sinking in your chest. “So you don’t get turned on seeing my boobs anymore?” 
Taehyung’s eyes instantly widen, panicking as he turns towards the screen. “No, no, Princess. I love your boobs, I just know you like being braless at home so they’re normal to me, and I wouldn’t punish you for it.” 
Hmphing, you puff your cheeks. “Well in that case…” Your hands grip the hem of your shirt, stripping it off. Taehyung steals a glimpse at you, completely normal as he views your braless frame—it’s when you hook onto your panties does he say something. 
“Princess, what are you doing?” 
“What? You don’t mind if I’m naked at home, don’t you?” 
He visibly swallows, clearing his throat. “Aren’t Mrs. Choi and Seo home?” 
“They’re grocery-shopping, and they’re women, anyway.” 
Taehyung slowly wets his lips, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Be my guest, then.” 
Smiling proudly, you slowly, seductively strip off your underwear, entertained by Taehyung glancing towards his screen—he’s attempting to act unbothered, but his bobbing Adam’s Apple gives him away. 
You sling your underwear elsewhere, watching Taehyung as he returns to work. Again, you feel yourself gush watching him in his element, driven by your now naked frame. Your hand curls around the purple wand you snatched earlier behind your phone, devising your set-up. 
“So… I guess my dommy husband has let up on his punishments then, huh?” 
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. “What makes you say that?” 
“Usually you would've punished me for being naked without you, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, diligently scanning his work. “As long as you’re not touching yourself, I’m okay with it.” He explains. “My wife can be naked in her own house.” 
Your lips curve similarly to the Cheshire Cat, mind brewing with deception. “And what if I was touching myself?” 
Taehyung freezes when he flips a page. “Huh?” 
“What if I was touching myself, Mr. Kim?” 
Cocking a brow at your audacity, Taehyung’s tone is authoritative. “Are we not currently in a war abstaining from sex? Think carefully about what you’re saying, Y/N.” 
His harsher timbre makes your body shudder with pleasure, fuelling your neediness. “Well, technically, this isn’t sex, it’s masturbating.” You correct him, finally revealing the vibrator. “And I think I’m gonna do it now.” 
Clicking on the toy, Taehyung’s eyes visibly widen, unable to fathom what he sees. “Y/N, where the fuck did you get that? How did you find my key?!” 
“I know my dear husband too well.” You snark, biting your lips as you press the vibrating toy to your collarbone—your nipples automatically harden. 
Taehyung’s eyes harden watching you, speaking seriously into his screen. “Y/N, you know touching yourself is against one of my rules, stop right the hell now.” 
“Awh, does Taehyungie think I’ll actually listen to him?” You chide, slipping the vibrator towards the top of your breast. You instantly hiss, carnal eyes meeting his angry ones. “Hilarious.” 
“You goddamn—“ Taehyung swipes a troubled hand over his face, huffing out. “Listen, baby, if this is about yesterday, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe I played too dirty, but I sincerely apologize. You can stop now, alright?” 
You scoff, ignoring him and letting your vibrator touch your nipple—you gasp, throwing your head back against the headboard. Taehyung kisses his teeth, his voice more urgent. “Princess, stop this instant—you know my rules about toys and touching yourself. I don’t tolerate it.” 
Neglecting his warning, you slide the vibrator lower, moaning as the buzzing sinks through your skin, stirring delicious arousal inside you. Taehyung kisses his teeth when he listens to your erotic sigh.
“Jagiya, listen to me; let’s put the vibrator away and talk, yeah?” Taehyung attempts to negotiate, his tone much sweeter. “Isn’t this whole argument of ours childish in the first place? We’re both grown adults trying to become parents; let’s handle this in a civilized manner, alright?” 
Sending him the most deadpan expression ever, you purposefully descend the vibrator towards your slit. Soon, the digits of your unoccupied hand slip through your folds, feeling your dripping cum. You lightly gasp, swishing around your essence with fascination. “I hope you know I’m very wet right now, Taehyung. All because I watched you be my sexy CEO husband—I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
You gently moan once you slide through your cunt towards your clit, lightly brushing the pulsing bud. Your husband scoffs on the other end when you shudder, exasperated. “Y/N, listen to me! I swear if you touch yourself right now, I’ll go insane, and your punishment will reflect that.” 
“Good, that’s exactly what I want.” 
And without further ado, you press the vibrstor to your throbbing clit, erupting a sensual sigh from you. Your body jerks alive, head leaning back into your pillow—Taehyung instantly shouts through your screen. 
“Y/N, you brat!” 
You listen to him constantly repeat that you’re a stubborn, disobedient bad girl, and the punishment he’ll deliver for your behaviour will destroy you, but you evilly laugh as a response, sweetening your tone. “I’ll be pausing my video now, by the way, so all you’ll be able to hear is my moans as I touch myself, but you can’t see or do anything about it, Mr. Kim.” 
You watch his eyes glower with anger, fed up with your audacity. “Kim Y/N, I swear if you—” And Taehyung disappears when you pause your video, finally able to unabashedly play with yourself. With neither of your housekeepers home as well, you lay back, indulging in rubbing the vibrating wand against your pussy. 
The moans you let out are pornographic, your skin set alight by the delicious buzzing. It prompts cum to ooze out of you like clockwork, your clit gloriously stimulated as you enjoy the absolute freedom, relishing in yours otherworldly pleasure. 
You’re pulled out of your piece of paradise when you hear Taehyung’s menacing voice, evidently done for. “Y/N, I swear to God, if you moan one more time—” 
“Ngh,” you sigh, rutting your eager hips against the lilac toy. 
“Oh my fucking—Y/N!” 
“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched cry, melting when the buzzing wand sends shockwaves of arousal through you. You dip it lower, teasing your fluttering hole—you instantly spasm with need, desiring something within the walls of your cave. “Ah! Oh my god…” 
“Y/N,” Taehyung sounds painfully desparate, practically begging you. “You have to stop, baby, I can’t listen to you moan like that but not see you.” 
“Fuck, Taehyung.” You pant, rubbing the wand against your fiery hot cunt. “I get why… you don’t let me use toys.” You swallow harshly, ready to plunge the thick, vibrating toy inside you. “I need this inside me, ugh.” 
“No fucking way.” Taehyung vehemently denies. “Don’t you dare put it inside you, do not.” 
“But it feels so good, baby.” You sigh, head spinning with delirium. You’ve never been able to indulge in the use of a vibrator, now completely enjoying the free reign you own. Playing with yourself is immensely pleasuring, your eyes hooding over, pussy leaking all over your once impeccable bed sheets. “I’m so wet, Taehyung, fuck.” 
“You’re the brattiest little thing I know,” Taehyung grits, before he deeply sighs, quite literally beseeching. “You can’t do this to me, Jagiya. Let me come home, I swear I’ll pleasure you in any way, just wait until I’m home.” 
“No, you can’t… get away with yesterday.” You breathe harshly, feeding off the delicious vibrating. You click the toy to increase its speed, crying out when the stronger vibrations spasm through you. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Y/N, you did not just increase the speed of that vibrator!” 
Ignoring him, your mind explodes with colours, floating in paradise as the buzzing wand delivers waves of pleasure. “Ngh, Taehyung, oh my fucking god!”
“That’s it, that’s it!” Your husband hollers. “I’m coming home, I’m coming home this instant!” You listen to Taehyung rummage around on his side, but you’re far too fucked out to even sense his anger. 
“Shit… shit, shit, shit.” You gasp, grinding your teeth to manage the fluttery sensation within your gut. You can feel something deliciously simmering, ready to release. “Fuck, I’m getting close, oh shit, I’m close!” 
You listen to Taehyung order someone on his end, speaking harshly into the receiver. “I swear I won’t forgive you for this, Y/N, less than ten minutes and I’ll be home, just wait.” 
“Awh, I’m so scared–ah!” You moan through your taunt, sighing out with pleasure. 
“Baby, stop moaning, oh my fucking God stop moaning.” Taehyung sounds as though he’s losing his sanity, evidently clenching his jaw. “I’m driving and my phone’s fucking connected to my car, stop moaning!”
“Ngh!” You moan louder, half taunting, half because you’re constantly teasing your spasming hole. 
“Fuck me, I can hear you everywhere, stop moaning!” 
“God, this feels amazing,” you deliriously sigh, erotic noises bouncing off the walls of your room. “Fuck you… Taehyung… for not letting me use vibrators.” 
“This is why, you slut.” Taehyung hisses, his rough tone lighting your squirming body on fire. “You’re the epitome of a disobedient brat; you know exactly what kills me and use it against me!” 
“What? Being able to hear me, but not see me? Or the opposite? You’re such a simple man, Kim Taehyung, so–oh my god.” You erupt with a heady moan when you plunge the tip of the wand inside your pussy hole, unable to contain yourself.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re torturing me, Princess. Either stop or mute yourself, you’re killing me!” 
“You can just… hang up–fuck!” 
“It’ll kill me even more knowing you could orgasm without me,” he reasons. “Five minutes and I’ll be home, five fucking minutes, dammit!” 
“You can just wave the white flag, Tae.” You coo, strangling fucked out groans. “All you need to do… is come home and put your dick inside me, baby, it’s that simple.” You chide him just as he did yesterday, indulging in your sweet revenge.
 “You know I can’t do that!” He shouts. 
“Can’t? Or won’t–ugh.” 
“You’re so–! This is cruel, Y/N, you’re completely violating the rules, this is a crime!” 
“Rules? I don’t remember those–oh god.” 
“I told you to stop moaning!” He angrily directs. “You need to shut your pretty mouth before I do it myself.” 
“Awh, is Mr. Kim gonna punish me? What if I can’t stop—ngh!” 
“Y/N, shut up!” 
“Come home and fuck me, Mr. Kim, fuck me like the whore I am, fuck me like your needy little sub.” You purposefully coo, melding it with your graphic moans. 
“You witch, you’re a witch!” He cries out, sounding as though he’s hanging by his last thread. “What happened to my good girl, huh? When did she get so bad?” 
You smirk, lacing your timbre with seduction. “Your good girl’s gone, Mr. Kim,” you purr. “You need to come home and fuck her into her place.” 
“For fuck’s sake!” Taehyung howls, his voice utterly fed up. “You’re done, you’re done!”
“What?” You retort, swept up in the intense moment. “Didn’t want me to discover vibrators because they’re better than your dick?” 
Now that is what ticks Taehyung off, his voice roaring through the phone. “Oh you little—you’re fucking in for it!” 
All you hear is the FaceTime call cut out, too distracted by your pleasure to pay any real attention. Your orgasm bubbles— swirls around inside you as your toes curl, your eyes roll back and your body operates on sheer pleasure alone. 
The vibrations ripple throughout your sex, curious as to how the wand would feel inside you. You sheath it inside without a care, exploding with a mewl when the spasming toy greets your eager walls. It feels glorious, shuddering with pleasure as you indulge in the gracious vibrations. 
You’re reaching your limit, so sucked up into your own world you crazily speed up the vibrator, needing it to beat inside your pulsing walls until you unravel like a wind up toy. The vibrations ceaselessly ripple through you now, the speed so delicious your hands automatically latch into the headboard behind you. You hang on for dear life as a powerful orgasm sneaks up on you, building, building, and building, your moans unstoppable, your pussy walls throbbing, your legs shaking, body begging for your much-needed release. 
And just when your cries reach a crescendo, your bedroom door suddenly swings open, revealing your winded, cross husband. “Y/N-!” 
He never finishes his sentence, because the most powerful, earth-shattering orgasm erupts within you, your body jerking off the bed as you convulse. Every muscle in your body tenses with immeasurable pleasure, falling into your sheets, skin slickened with sweat, utterly spent of all your energy. 
You pant wildly as you come down your high, barely able to register Taehyung’s glowering eyes and his rageful, reprimanding voice. “You did not just—I can’t believe you!” 
Feeling the weight of your body sink into the mattress, your half-lidded eyes are the only thing able to move, sliding over to an angry Taehyung. “You’re literally evil, a goddamn witch!” He shouts, throwing his arms up in the air. “I swear I’ll only tolerate this shit in our home, you better not pull this revenge crap when we’re in public!” 
You have nothing to counter him, breaking into a fucked-out grin as you send him a thumbs up, elated that you’d successfully gotten back at him. “This is… for yesterday… asshole.” 
“Y/N, I’m serious.” Tahyung presses, pushing his jacket backwards to perch his hands on his hips. “You know we have Hoseok’s dinner this Friday; I swear if you don’t behave by then, I’m going to retaliate far worse than you.” 
You soak in his threat paired with an accusing finger, though it only inflates your ego. His challenge ignites something inside you, gaining enough strength to bite back. “Scared I’m going to win, loverboy?” 
Taehyung scoffs. “You’re not winning, you damn brat.” 
“We’ll see about that.” You retort, staring down Taehyung with scrutinizing eyes as he shoots back a fiery look. He eventually has enough, storming out of your bedroom as a string of complaints leave his mouth. 
You plop back into the sheets, floating on the cloud nine by the time sleep threatens to wash over your blissed-out, exhausted body. 
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The next three days of your life consisted of sheer mayhem.
Taehyung wasn’t kidding when he proclaimed the level of his retaliation. Peace has been a fragile concept in your household ever since, having transformed into a makeshift battlefield where you and your husband snag every opportunity to gain your revenge on each other. 
Tuesday morning when you’d hopped in the shower, Taehyung slipped inside in the middle of your shampooing. You cocked a questioning brow as you faced him—he shot back an unbothered shrug. 
“What? I can’t shower in my own house?” 
Rolling your eyes, you sighed as you returned to lathering up your hair, allowing him to do whatever he must. You both washed up quite normally, pretty distanced from one another until Taehyung began purposefully invading your space. 
He constantly reached over you for his shampoo, body wash, even your loofah with feigned innocence, deliberately brushing up against your naked body each time. Eventually, his hands naturally began roaming your wet skin, and here came your perpetual doom. 
The sensation of his touch felt intensifying, biting your lip to manage your arousal when he skimmed your sensitive spots. When his pillowy lips found their way to your neck, you melted into his strong chest, relishing in the shower water streaming down your entangled figures. 
His fingers traversed your body sensually, stroking you with such purposeful seduction, you nearly moaned. It wasn’t until his flesh caressed your backside did you recognize his sneaky scheme. You swatted him away with a scoff, sneering at him and his cunningness—your husband only flashed you a shit-eating smirk. 
That following day, you decided to be Satan's spawn. You twirled your pen as you eyed your gorgeous husband lead this morning’s meeting, watching him effortlessly carry himself with grace and professionalism—you ignored the arousal he stirred inside you. 
Once the meeting finished, you purposefully stalled on collecting your papers, watching Taehyung bid a farewell to everyone as they exited. Once your unsuspecting husband rose from his seat to vacate the area, you ambushed him, blocking him from opening the door. 
His eyes widened with surprised, though hardened into scrutinizing slits once he figured out your game. You argued for all of five minutes before you walked the delicious man back to his seat, shoving him into his chair. You slid a leg over his lap, seductively toying with his Tom Ford tie.
He watched you do so, his jaw flexing as he tongued the inside of his cheek. “Having fun, Princess?” He  condescended. “You can play with me all you want; we all know at the end of day I’m your boss, and the CEO your pussy.” 
Bitterly laughing, you harshly pulled him towards your face with his tie, eyeing him down. You let a finger glide over his perfect cupid’s bow and down the column of his throat, brushing his lips with your own. “And at the end of the day, we all know you’re an absolute simp for me, so who really owns who?” 
Taehyung remained adamant you’ll break first, challenging you back, though once you leaned over and whispered something scandalous in his ear, he erupted into angry flames, simmering with betrayal. You proudly strutted out the meeting room, an accomplished smile plastering across your face.
Who knew going commando could get your husband’s panties in a twist? Men are sincerely so simple.
But, come the next day, Taehyung decided he’s not fucking around anymore. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when your office door unexpectedly shut, flitting up to find your Adonis-like husband leaning against it, dressed in an incredibly dapper, three-piece navy blue suit. Taehyung tilted his head, piercing your soul with his playful irises, hands shoved into his pockets. 
You quirked a suspicious brow, questioning him of his arrival. “What the fuck do you want, loverboy?” 
He raised his brows at your tone. “I don’t think that’s how you address your boss, Mrs. Kim.” 
“My bad,” you retorted. “What the fuck do you want, Mr. Kim?” 
Tonguing the inside of his cheek, a smug grin teases Taehyung’s lips at your use of an honorific, his index finger sliding across his bottom lip. “I’m here to speak to you as Mrs. Kim, a talented architect. I wanted to discuss something very important.”
Clearing your throat, you unwillingly welcomed him to sit. “Be my guest then, sir.” 
Taehyung twitched at your use of ‘sir’, suppressing a cough. He unbuttoned his debonair suit as he seated himself across from you. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I’ll cut right to the chase, you must be a busy woman.” 
You appreciatively smiled at his politeness. 
“Essentially, what I wanted to discuss is quite personal, though I wanted your opinion as an architect regarding the matter.” He began; you followed his example of professionalism.
“Of course, what’s the matter, Mr. Kim?” 
“Well, as you know, I’m married.” He proudly established, toying with his wedding band. “To this absolutely gorgeous, stellar woman. Love of my life, really, wouldn’t have it any other way.” He casually proclaimed—you attempted to hide your flushed cheeks as he spoke. 
“I see; how lucky you are?” 
“Very lucky indeed.” He gracefully smiles. “However, she has this horrible habit of being an insufferable brat and disobeying me—so I’ve been devising many ways to punish her.” 
Gulping, you nearly choke on your spit, trying to follow whatever act he’s performing. “Pardon me?” 
“Yes, we have a Dom/sub relationship and I’ve been considering ways I can punish her for her attitude.” Taehyung nonchalantly admits. “I was thinking about installing some new things in our sex room to ensure she obeys me.” 
Coughing, you can barely look the man seriously in the eye—he’s surely fucking with you, but his Oscar-worthy perfomance had you following his every step. “W-wow, she sounds like a handful.” You grimace, scrunching your nose—who knew you’d be referring to yourself in third-person today? “Though isn’t this a bit too personal, Mr. Kim? It may be unprofessional to discuss something of this matter with one of your employees.” 
From across your desk, Taehyung gave you a look darker than hell itself, shattering all your confidence. He had single-handedly submitted you with his intimidating eyes, soon rising from his seat. He rounded your desk, settling behind your chair, gulping when you felt his domineering aura permeate your back. 
He leaned over, placing his hands either side of you against your desk to trap you, his lips dangerously close to your ear—he brushed your helix with a hot, deep whisper. “Are you suggesting I don’t know how to be professional at my own company, Mrs. Kim?” 
The sharpest surge of arousal spiked through your cunt, shuddering when his heady Invictus cologne flooded your nostrils. His aftershave was killing you; did he just have to fucking shave this morning? 
Weting your lips, you swallowed harshly, shaking in your heels. “I wouldn’t do such a thing, Mr. Kim.” 
“Mm,” he hums. “That’s what I thought.” His caramel-smooth, baritone voice lights your pussy on fire, squirming when he speaks again. “Now, I still need your professional opinion, Mrs. Kim.” 
“Y-Yes.” Your palms begin sweating, tightly clutching them together to resist shoving your tongue down Taehyung’s throat—how could he intimidate you and turn you on in the same breath? He’s a powerful, powerful man. “What would you like to ask?” 
“I’d like to ask about the architectural science and safety measures of installing something in my sex room.” His unbothered, breezy tone ticks you off, yet arouses you the same; how could he ask something so blatantly scandalous? This man was truly never one to fuck with, especially when he was serious. “It’s for my wife.” 
Holding your breath, you clear your clogged throat. “What-what would you need to know?” 
Embodying the devil himself, Taehyung’s voice dropped an octave, voice deeper than the depths of hell. “I wanted to know the best way I could suspend her from the ceiling.” 
Your eyes widened, face burning so hot your cheeks could’ve melted. You shoveed your hands between your thighs, attempting to manage the wave of cum he gushed out of you. You nearly scream when Taehyung curls your hair behind the ear his lips brushed, his sweet, heated breaths lighting your skin on fire. 
“Tell me, Mrs. Kim.” 
You clutch the fabric of your skirt for dear life, pressing your thighs together. Your breathing was uneven, hitching as Taehyung’s intoxicating presence made your heart roar inside your chest. Your raging hormones screamed at you to simply jump the tempting man—jump him and bounce all over his perfect dick until you release a year’s worth of orgasms, let your sweaty bodies rut against each other until he spills his hot seed inside you. 
But once your pride takes over the conversation, you grow angry, commending him for his clever attack, but never surrendering. You turn towards him with glowering eyes, batting his hand off you. “How’s about I tell you to fuck off, Mr. Kim?” 
Taehyung heartily laughs, entertained by you. “Why, Mrs. Kim? I was simply asking a question, how dare you speak to your superior with that tone?”
“Perhaps you should ask your gorgeous, talented, wonderful wife.” You snark. “She doesn’t even sound like the problem, this all seems like a you-problem.” 
Taehyung leans back to his full height as he rounds your desk, wearing a confident, shit-eating smirk. “We’ll see if it’s a me-problem when she’s the one hanging from my ceiling.” He bites back, leaning his hands on your desk. “Absolutely naked, ready for my taking.” 
His sinful stare grips your very soul. You inhale sharply when you feel his dominant, alpha male energy permeate you, pussy aching to be full of him. When he shot one last bounce of his brows, his suave walk out of your office lit you up like a firecracker, nearly throwing your pen at him. 
The constant battle for a winner continued into Thursday, wildly scandalous shenanigans headlining your useless war. 
Sending each other endless thirst traps on snapchat, cheeky nudes, erotic voice notes, teasing touches, sudden naked appearances in close vicinity to each other—absolutely nothing was left off the table. 
Taehyung even purposefully brought his work out equipment home to exercise in front of you, coaxing essence out of like sap from a tree—you nearly ripped his shorts down to gobble up his cock once you spotted the glistening sweat on his lean muscles, heard his deep, masculine grunts as he lifted, watched him heavily breathe between each set. 
You’d bought the skimpiest lingerie set possible to raid one of his conferences at home. He was seated on your spacious love seat in the entertainment area, eloquently speaking about some transactions with his financial team. He sounded incredibly sexy, even looked it, too—sleeves rolled up, top of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his delicious chest.
You adored the rageful look in his eyes once you presented yourself, completely unbothered. You made room on his lap as you carelessly sat yourself on his crotch—it was your throne, anyway. He shot you an irritated expression as you courageously tipped your chin, clicking Netflix on your gigantic TV. 
You casted your bare legs over the leather armrest, cozying up your ass over his clothed dick. Taehyung twitched when he felt your pussy—your lace panties were unfairly non-existent. 
He cleared his throat as he continued listening to the others in his meeting, attempting to ignore your nearly naked body casually sitting on him. He snuck glances at your cleavage, two round globes supported by a push-up bra, though attempted to (unsuccessfully) ignore it. His arms caged around you once he began working on his laptop, effortlessly typing away. 
You leaned your head against Taehyung’s warm chest, snuggling into him like a puzzle piece. 
Your revenge plan began when you finally arrived at the perfect scene to start it all, considering the movie you chose, of all films. 
Fifty Shades of Grey. 
You let the sounds of Christian and Anatasia having sex fill the room, even putting up the volume just to hear them better. Taehyung flashed his annoyed eyes at the screen, rolling them when he sees you upping the volume. He remained unbothered until you maneuvered your ass over his crotch for comfort—you rubbed his subtly erect member, feeling it twitch. 
He subdued a groan when you did it again, promiscuously adjusting your position. Your husband remained adamant on ignoring you, containing himself. But when you purposefully gyrated your hips over him, Taehyung instantly grappled you, digging his fingers into your skin.
 “Y/N, I will literally fuck you against our TV.” He hissed, his irises furiously glowing with warning. “Sit still and watch your movie, or the TV won’t be the only thing I break.” 
You swallowed harshly hearing the sternness in his timbre—he was serious about possibly fucking you so hard he breaks your back. You decided to oblige, settling against his chest again to silently watch your movie—you actually liked the Fifty Shades franchise, anyway.
Things remained a little tense after that, but not malicious. Dinner later that day was lukewarm, both of you eating in silence, until somehow, the tension boiled over. 
Taehyung had sent Mrs. Choi and Seo home earlier that day, leaving you and him to clean up. Washing dishes should’ve been perfectly normal, if it weren’t for the many times you both constantly brushed each other, already vibrating with so much sexual tension, Taehyung threw his drying towel away to take your lips. 
He had pressed you into the kitchen counter, hoisting you onto the surface as he ground his hips into your barely dressed pussy, robe flung open. Your perky breasts rubbed against his shirt—you were still wearing your lingerie set, and clearly he’d had enough. His hands constantly roamed your body, brushing your bare thighs up and down, up and down until his fingers instinctively slid towards you center, swiping through your damp panties. 
You gasped into his mouth, eliciting something carnal to ignite his eyes. Before you knew it, a full-on, heated makeout session ensued. 
Clearly the 5 days you’d gone without each other had you craving the other in irrevocable ways. Taehyung’s pants were hot against your lips, biting, sucking, licking them as though he were starved, as though the only meal he craved was you.  
You hissed when he pressed the pads of his fingers into you, incredibly sensitive down there. Your hands naturally aimed for his belt, your hips shamelessly riding his masterful fingers. It wasn’t until you ripped open his pants did reality strike you both like lightning—you pulled away from each other instantly. 
Taehyung accused you of attempting to seduce him, while you spat back that he’s the one who started it. The argument lasted long enough that you both decided to sleep in different rooms—sharing a bed would not only heighten your anger, but the craving to jump each other’s bones. 
Now, Friday had arrived, also known as operation Hoseok’s dinner party, and also day 6 without sex. 
“Hob-ah, how’s your recent club been doing? Wasn’t there an issue with one of the bouncers?” 
“Jimin, c’mon, just choose a goddamn gift for your fiance’s birthday already.” 
“Jungkook, stop playing with your dick and fess up—you’re clearly into your wife.” 
The ridiculous chatter is endless as you and Taehyung’s friends gather at an exclusive restaurant for a night out, Namjoon and Seokjin accompanied by their wives, while the rest indulge in friendly conversation. 
Hoseok was celebrating the stellar news about the progress with his new beau; they’d started officially dating.
Everyone currently bugged the poor girl with nitpicky questions, throwing around harmless jokes and insults at an embarrassed, though elated Hoseok. Taehyung indulge in here and there, though predominantly remained focused on his phone; it seemed he was receiving important emails tonight. 
Your husband examined his screen carefully as he reclined in the restaurant’s booth, which should’ve been okay, if it weren’t for the firm hand he kept clasped on your thigh. It was a habit of his: Taehyung claimed he always needed to be touching your scrumptious thighs. 
Currently, he danced the tips of fingers across your bare skin. It was something harmless and ingrained in him, your husband drawing useless circles and patterns as he scrutinized the lines of a dense email. You ground your teeth trying to manage the constant touch of his hand; you were a pathetic whore for Taehyung’s gorgeous, veiny, gigantic hands caressing you, and you were near exploding. 
His rings looked impeccable, paired with the Patek Phillipe watch you gifted him for Christmas hugging his wrist, his wedding band glimmering under the restaurant’s ambient yellow lights. 
You squirm your toes trying to contain yourself. His fingertips are stroking the inside of your thigh, tirelessly teasing you with lewd ideas. Once he travels a mere inch towards your core, you’ve had enough, suddenly shoving his hand off you. Taehyung sends you a puzzled look, asking what’s wrong through his coffee irises. 
You respond with a mocking look, annoyed. Taehyung shoots a ‘what the fuck’ expression as you cross your arms, ignoring him. It only makes him press you harder, clasping your arm to encourage you to look at him—the tension between you two catches the eyes of a certain someone.
“Oof, trouble in paradise, friends?” Seokjin notes beside you. 
You and Taehyung both turn heads, caught like two deers in headlights. 
“You’ve both barely spoken to each other, is everything alright?” Seokjin considerately asks. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.” 
Swallowing, you let Taehyung do the talking. “We’re fine, hyung. Thanks for asking.” 
“You sure?” He queries. “You know you both can come to me with anything, I have plenty of experience with my own relationship. I feel a little sad seeing you guys like this.” 
Touched by Seokjin’s concern, your eyes soften. Taehyung light-heartedly laughs, landing a friendly palm on Seokjin’s shoulder. “It’s nothing like that, hyung. Y/N and I are just… having a competition, you could say.” 
“A competition?” He quirks a curious brow. “What kind?” 
Taehyung flashes you a look as though asking your permission to proceed—you send him a confirming nod. Leaning towards Seokjin’s ear, Taehyung whispers the details about your current kerfuffle; Seokjin immediately erupts into hearty laughter.
“No fucking way, you guys are having a competition to see how long you can last without sex?!” 
Seokjin being the ever-so loud, rambunctious member of the group, the entire table is privy to your childish war, erupting into amused cackles.
“What? These two?” Namjoon points between you with a snort. “These two who can barely keep their hands off each other? You can’t even take them out without risking getting booked for indecency.” 
“No goddamn way,” Hoseok comments, stifling his giddy laughter. “Namjoon’s right, I bet there isn’t a single universe where these two fuck bunnies even last two days.” 
“Two days?” Jungkook chips in, clucking his tongue. “That’s being nice, hyung. They could barely last a day with the amount that they fuck—I literally have trauma with calling them because I know I’ll hear a porno in the making like last time.”
“Taehyung, how could you not tell me this?” Jimin acts scandalized, slamming his hand on the table; he may be a bit drunk. “I’m your best friend!” 
“Woah, okay, calm down, you clowns.” Taehyung gestures at his friends. “Jimin, it’s between Y/N and I, so I didn’t say anything. And you three, for your fucking information, we’ve gone 6 days without sex, so shut the fuck up, will you?” 
“6 days? Holy shit, somebody write this down!” Seokjin hollers, wiping his fake tears. “It’s a historical day for society!” 
“6 days without sex? Oh, these lovebirds aren’t lasting. Someone call the psych ward, they’re gonna go insane soon.” Jimin proclaims. 
“You kidding me? Give them both some alcohol and I bet they’ll fuck like wild animals when they get home.” Jungkook slams his hefty wallet on the table, scouring for bills. “Who wants to bet money on it?” 
Namjoon retaliates. “At home? Please, Jungkook, 70,000 won says they’ll do it in the Mercedes before even getting there.” 
“Who says the restaurant’s bathroom is off limits?” Hoseok chimes in. “130,000 that they’ll fuck in there; even Eunbi’s bathroom wasn’t safe.”
“Please, Hob-ah.” Seokjin grievously laments. “I still have nightmares about that.” 
“Okay! All of you, shut the fuck up!” You derisively sing-song, scolding the rowdy boys. “You guys just love picking at our sex life because of you’re jealous of it.” 
“Exactly; you’re all just bitter you don’t have a relationship like ours.” Taehyung spits at them as he curls an arm around your shoulder; you back him up with vehement nods. 
“Ew, I don’t wanna to be like you two nasty, lovey-dovey losers.” Jungkook retorts. “I’ve already got a crazy sex life of my own, thank you very much, which by the way I gotta tell you all…” 
And Jungkook goes on to explain an insane update on the current fuss with his wife, finally lifting the hot seat you and Taehyung had found yourselves in. The night continued with fun-filled laughter, chatter, and a plentiful amount of food—shit only hit the fan when alcohol was served. 
You and Taehyung both adopted the mindset of drowning your sorrows, inhaling shot after shot. You both became much more free-spirited once liquor entered your systems, finally loosening up enough to have a good time, forgetting all about your petty bet. You laughed into Taehyung’s shoulder as he told you charming jokes and shamelessly flirted with you, he smiled from ear-to-ear watching you cutely giggle—you remained closely entangled together the whole night, lost in the other’s eyes. 
Your drunken giggles were endless as you and Taehyung piled out of the restaurant with the rest of your party, your arms slung around his neck, his snug around your lower back as you fooled around. You’re both busy chuckling at Taehyung trying to kiss you when Namjoon patted your husband’s shoulder. 
“Hey, Taehyung-ah, you two getting home alright?” 
Taehyung shoots Namjoon a narrow-eyed look, slurring his words when he speaks. “Who d’you think I am, hyung? Ovously I wouldn’t dive-drive when I drank alcol.” Your husband hiccups, which causes you to laugh at him. 
Namjoon’s lips curve with a fond, dimply smile, laughing. “Alright, lovebirds. Get home safe.” Namjoon affectionately claps Taehyung’s back. The pair of you send him a drunken thumbs up before Namjoon locates his wife. Taehyung suddenly faces you, cupping your cheeks. 
“Hey, Princess.” He hiccups, his lips pouting as he stares at your plushy ones. “I’m sowry I drank when I’m the diver-driver; I shouldm’ve been more reponsible.” 
Your heart melts as he drunkenly rambles, cupping his cheeks back. “Is okey, Taehyung.” You coo, communicating with him in pout. “You work hard enough; you deserve a bwreak.” 
He brightly grins as he bops your nose, causing you both to stupidly laugh. Mr. Kang ends up finding you two, greeting him as though he were your saviour. He sincerely was, because once he began driving, the alcohol caused you both to disregard your surroundings. Your husband tugged you over his lap and connected your lips for shameless kisses, touches, even temporary stripping of clothes. 
You both incessantly giggled and smiled throughout the steamy session, happily enjoying each other’s company. Mr. Kang even faintly smiled at you two before placing up the partition. 
Arriving home, you burst through the door, liquor having stunted your ability to have a logical conversation. Tossing away your shoes, you run towards Taehyung, hooking your arms around his gorgeously carved neck. 
“Taehyung! Oh my god, we’re home, this is our home!” You drunkenly marvel. 
“Right? Our home, all ours.” Taehyung joins in on your fun, palms encasing your waist, slowly waddling you both inside after shutting the door. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if it wasn’t just us two, though?” 
“Yes, yes!” You excitedly shout. “We need babies, we need so many babies!” 
Taehyung warmly chuckles, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. “I don’t know about so many babies, Princess—it’s gonna hurt you.” 
“But I want your babies!” You angrily pout, leaning your chin on his strong chest. “You don’t want my babies, Taehyung?” 
Taehyung softens at your intoxicated expression, sickeningly in love with you. His palms affectionately encircle your waist, holding you close. “Of course I want your babies, baby. But pregnancy is a lot—I don’t want it to hurt you.” 
“But I need your babies!” You valiantly proclaim, crashing your lips against Taehyung’s so powerfully, the man nearly tumbles backwards. You end up toppling him over your couch, straddling him as he cradles your body over his. 
You both drunkenly make out, sloppy and disarrayed, relishing in each other’s taste before you break away. “I wanna have your babies, Taehyung.” You pout, a sad look dawning on your features. Your soft irises fall to his neck,toying with the top button of his dress shirt. “Why can’t we have a baby?” 
Taehyung’s heart sinks hearing your frail voice, lightly brushing some hair from your face. “We’ll have a baby someday, pretty girl.” He comforts you, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “We’ll keep trying, I promise; I’ll give you all the babies you want.” 
You attempt to blink moisture out of your eyes as depression washes over you; sometimes Vodka really backfired on your emotions. Lately, things have been difficult trying to conceive with Taehyung; you've been trying for 6 months now, and you’ve gained nothing but disappointment. 
“But we keep trying… and no babies.” Your bottom lip slightly trembles, sniffling. “I want a baby, Tae.” 
The brokenness of your tone is what shatters your husband; it sounded like a cry from deep within your soul. Taehyung’s palms immediately encase your cheeks, his heart softening. He hates the sad pout on your lips, even watching your eyes gloss over. Heart-broken, he softly exhales, pressing your mouths together sweetly, so gently, you were certain your insides melted. 
His kiss ignites something inside you, springing up onto your knees to gain some leverage. You use the height advantage to devour him, Taehyung’s hands sensually roaming your body. Your hips grind into Taehyung’s instinctually, deep groans slipping past his lips. 
You shudder into his mouth when he thrusts up into you, your clothed cunt welcomed by his rising member. You take his bottom lip between your teeth to bite him, licking over your teeth marks before plunging your tongue inside his mouth. 
Your husband licks your tongue, sharing your saliva without a regard for anything as ferality overwhelms him—you share the same sentiment. 
“Taehyung,” you breathe, hormones surging through your veins. “Put a baby in me, I want your babies.” 
Your plea is hot against Taehyung’s lips, constant smacking noises filling the room as you nastily makeout. Taehyung groans when you grind down over his crotch, deliciously rubbing against his clothed tip. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty girl.” 
His uneven breaths light you on fire, driven by sheer lust. Paired with the alcohol and six days with absitinence, your mind is stupidly desparate for sex right now.  
“Wanna have your babies, Tae.” You moan into his mouth, Taehyung’s hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh. He lifts up your skirt to roam your bare cheeks, smacking both as he guides your hips over his lap, growling out deep, masculine groans. 
“Oh, I’ll fucking put a baby in you,” he pants, slithering his tongue inside you. You can taste the Whiskey he drank, melting into his strong body as his digits emblazon your ass. 
You run on adrenaline, craving Taehyung with such carnal need, you’re uncontrollable. You hotly whisper against his swollen, wet lips, fingers weaved through his sexy hair. “Taehyung, please… fuck me.” 
Taehyung’s eyes shine with desire, pupils dilating at the request. His body tenses, his cock twitches, his muscles even readying themselves, but he needs to ask. “Baby… are you sure—”
“Please, Tae,” you beg, tugging his luscious locks. “I’m fucking aching for you.” 
Your cunt flutters over his lap, sighing when the shape of him caresses you. You’re so incredibly sensitive, cum gushes out of you like waterworks. You physically shudder, bracing Taehyung’s shoulder as your hips develop a mind of their own, grinding over his crotch. 
Taehyung still hesitates, leaving affectionate pecks along your jaw. “Say it,” he commands, thrusting up into your sex once again. “Say you want me, Princess, say how much you want it.” 
“I–I want it, Tae, so badly.” You strangle out, pussy drowning with your essence, vibrating for his flesh to be lodged inside you. “Want you inside me… want you to fuck me like a bad girl, fuck me like a dirty slut.” 
Taehyung shudders out a sexy, deep groan, his dick twitching inside his pants. “Fuck, Y/N…” 
“I’m so fucking horny, baby. I need you.” You beseech, arm slinging around his neck to bury your hand in his hair, your unoccupied one tugging his tucked dress shirt out of his pants. “Fuck me right here, right now. Fuck me like your pathetic whore.” You drunkenly plead, promiscuously rolling your hips over him, body operating on alcohol and insufferable horniness alone.
Taehyung literally growls, an animalistic need overwhelming him. He snatches your waist and spins you to his side, rapidly pinning you to the couch. He crawls over you and cages you underneath, lips crashing into yours. 
His hands quickly ride up your skirt, tearing off your clothes before his thumbs cling to your underwear, stripping it off with hot finesse. He instinctively unclasps his belt, removing the irritating thing to push down his pants, freeing his incredibly hard, rock-solid length. Your grabby hands demanded his clothes be off, quickly stripping him as well to reveal his deliciously masculine body. 
Everything else that occurred afterwards was a blur to you, only able to remember certain details. You recalled your husband’s gravelly, husky groans, his hands desperately gripping you, the dark, plum-coloured kisses he embellished on your skin. 
You remember his powerful body manuevering over yours, the incessant sounds of his laboured breaths by your ear. You seldom remember the hot things he whispered, but you remember the way you felt, they way he felt, the way your pussy throbbed for more, the way your fingers tugged his hair, eventually scraped down his neck to leave red trails along his sweaty skin, the painful, but pleasurable burn between your legs.
But, next thing you knew, the alcohol intoxicated your head so much, unprecedented exhaustion overwhelmed your body. Taehyung exhibited the same symptoms, his thrusts losing precision, harshness, until suddenly, he lost speed altogether. His hips eventually stilled, barely able to keep his eyes open. 
Yours threaten to fall shut, too, only recalling the mutual look you and Taehyung gave to each other. You faintly remember him pulling out of you before he collapsed over your body, your own succumbing to unavoidable fatigue. 
The only reminder he was even next to you was the soft, familiar beating of his heart, and the sheltering warmth of his skin. 
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Taehyung awakens to the feeling of something on his chest, groaning as his eyes flutter open. He rubs one before peeking down, focusing on the particular weight over his heart—his eyes widen immediately. 
You’re lying completely naked on his chest. 
He curses under his breath, his head finally clear enough to understand his reality. He sees himself naked as well, running a stressed hand over his groggy face with a curse. 
“Fuck… did we have sex?” 
All Taehyung remembers from last night was his poor decision to drown in Whiskey, and the incredible horniness that attacked him as a result. He remembers making out with you, remembers getting handsy, recalls the faint memory of dirty-talk, but scarcely remembers the actual sex. 
He blinks multiple times as he gazes at you, your frame softly rising and falling as you sleep. Once his mind comes up empty of any other excuses, he sighs as he comes to his conclusion. 
“Yeah, we definitely had sex.” 
Groaning, Taehyung curses when he remembers your petty little competition, worsening his already agonizing headache. It should probably be the least of his concerns, but he’s still pissed he can’t remember who initiated things, meaning another future argument with you. 
Kissing his teeth, Taehyung snatches his phone and taps his screen, registering the time. It’s nearly the hour Mrs. Choi and Seo come by the house to begin cooking breakfast. Taehyung’s head falls back against the couch, grievously sighing.
Taehyung carefully maneuvers himself out from under you, affectionate with your slumbering body. He slips on his boxers and pants from last night, next locating a blanket. He drapes a light one over your naked figure, soon hoisting you up in his arms. 
He’s making his way towards the stairs when the door suddenly swings open, making dreaded eye contact with his two housekeepers. The ladies pause upon seeing a shirtless Taehyung carrying you bridal-style, though Taehyung’s quick to defuse the moment.
“Good morning, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” The two ladies kindly greet him, removing their jackets and shoes. 
“Sorry about the mess,” Taehyung ticks his head in the direction of your sprawled clothes. “We’d drank last night and weren’t exactly in our right minds.” 
“That’s alright, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Seo politely assures him. “You and Mrs. Kim are young lovers, sir, you should enjoy your youth.” 
“That’s right, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Choi chimes in. “Young love is precious, never let us old ladies stop you!” 
Taehyung cracks a fond smile, laughing. “Thank you, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.” 
“Would you like us to cook some hangover soup for yourself and Mrs. Kim?” Mrs. Choi asks as she meanders in with her purse. 
“Yes, please, though only some for me right now, Y/N’s still sleeping.” Taehyung’s eyes shift to you in his arms, silently doting on your angelic, sleeping face. “I would like her food to be served when she’s awake. I want it nice and hot for her, if you don’t mind.” 
“Of course, not at all.” Mrs. Choi benignly reassures, already stepping into the kitchen. 
“Thank you. Prepare some ibuprofen as well, she’s a horrible drunk, as usual.” Taehyung jokes, earning a laugh from the ladies. Mrs. Seo guarantees Taehyung that everything will be in place for you, finally making his way towards the staircase. 
“Oh, and remember to serve her citrus fruits,” Taehyung calls out as he ascends the stairs, protectively carrying you. “Lots of fruits for her, in general. And don’t forget her vitamins, please.” 
The ladies nod affirmatively before returning to their work, leaving Taehyung to vanish upstairs. 
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“Shit, my car’s in the shop.” 
You lightly hit your fist against your palm, kissing your teeth when you recall your lack of transportation today. It’s currently a calm, late Saturday afternoon, having spent the last hour getting ready for your evening out with Hana. 
Thank God your massive headache subsided after your delicious hangover soup, your housekeepers really were the best cooks. They must've been magicians, though, because their food had also granted you the ability to regain your memories from last night. 
You muffled your scream into your pillow when you remembered you and Taehyung having sex; your sore legs were enough to know it was real, too, and not a dream. You whined at the idea that somebody lost the competition, and you’re unsure of exactly who it was, but 70% sure it was you. 
As a result, you decided to subconsciously ignore Taehyung today. Thankfully, he spent his morning out, having gone golfing with some board members before returning home to work quietly in his study. 
Memories of last night’s steamy, sweaty sex entered your mind every now and then throughout the morning, though you forced yourself to pretend it didn’t happen, and that it didn’t count, either. 
Swallowing your pride, you sigh as you patter over to Taehyung’s study, lightly knocking on the door. 
“Come in.” You hear him request, carefully twisting the knob open. You clear your throat as you waddle inside, Taehyung’s gaze lifting from his laptop to observe you. He visibly brightens, as though his body has an innate reaction to your presence, though he schools himself, returning to his work. 
“Good afternoon, Princess.” 
The addressment curves your lips in the slightest, lacing your fingers behind your back. “Good afternoon, Tae.” 
“How’s your headache?” He queries, sifting through paperwork. “Mrs. Seo told me you slept in because of it.” 
“Yeah, I could barely get out of bed, honestly. Though the hangover soup helped, and the ibuprofen, too.” You detail. “They told me you specifically requested both. Thank you.” 
“No need to thank me, love.” He replies, flexing his neck sideways with a grimace before focusing on his work; his shoulder seemed to be bothering him. You hesitate offering him a massage considering the awkward tension from last night, though his voice interrupts your thought. “Why did you come to my study, did you need something?” 
“Oh, yeah.” A figurative lightbulb pops into thin air above you, extending your hand. “Could I have the keys to your Mercedes? My car’s in the shop.” 
He furrows his brows. “My car? Are you going out?” 
You grab the ends of your blush pink baby doll, lightly swaying the thin satin fabric, even puckering your lips to indicate your makeup. “A bit obvious, isn’t it?” 
Taehyung sends you a deadpan expression. “With who?” 
His stoic energy ticks you off, letting your sarcasm loose. “My secret boyfriend.” 
Your husband shoots you a harsh look. “Be serious, Y/N.”
Letting out a long, deep sigh, you confess. “With Hana; she wants to complain about my brother.” 
“Will you be out all night?” 
“Don’t think so, I’m visiting the site of the new headquarters building Sunday morning and I want to sleep well.” You honestly inform him—he amicably nods. 
“Alright, I’ll give you the keys, but do me a quick favour first, please?” He asks, pointing towards one of his shelves on his left. “I need one of those old logs on the 7th shelf, could you grab it for me?” 
Nodding, you follow his instructions indicating which specific log, stepping towards his shelf. You kiss your teeth registering that it’s too high, locating a nearby stepping stool. You almost climb onto it until you suddenly freeze, remembering something vital; you’re wearing nothing underneath your babydoll. 
You face flushes once you consider that if you climb the stool, you’ll be flashing Taehyung your bare pussy. While on another day that wouldn’t have been a problem, the current sticky situation made you feel shy about it—he could potentially believe you’re seducing him. 
Clearing your throat, you timidly clasp your hands together, facing him. “Um… it’s a little high for me, I think you’ll need to grab it.” 
Taehyung tilts his head. “You can use the stepping stool; it’s specifically for you.” 
Rolling your eyes, you decide to admit the truth. “Well, I’m not wearing anything underneath this, and last I remember you think I’m trying to seduce you 24/7, Mr. Kim.” 
Taehyung instantly recognizes your dig, narrowing his eyes at you. He huffs out before drawing back his chair, rising from his seat. His long legs carry him so fast you have limited time to move out of his way, Taehyung simply reaching over your head. 
It’s a minor thing, and yet, it’s the soft hand Taehyung clasps around your hip as he reaches up that lights your skin on fire. His touch through the thin babydoll feels exhilarating, suddenly reminded of his body on yours last night. The sex drought had surely made you insane; how could his domestic touch and mere presence behind you make you squirm? His larger body always made you feel so small, but in a way that ignited your bones. 
You shrug off his touch once the image of his broad frame in comparison to yours ruins you—Taehyung cocks a suspicious brow as he retrieves the log. He returns to his desk without questioning it, plopping down the heavy binder before opening his drawer, unearthing his keys. 
“You know the rules; both about my car and going out.” He reminds you, jangling the keys. “Think you know the car ones, but I think you need a reminder of the going out ones.” 
You tilt your head, curiously contorting your lips. 
Taehyung tongues his cheek, swallowing. “You need to kiss me before you go.” 
Your eyes widen, awkwardly shuffling your feet. “I thought you said no kissing?” 
“I said quick pecks are allowed.” 
Seeing his point, you roll your eyes. You paddle over to him, watching him turn his chair to face you. He nonchalantly leans back, manspreading his expansive legs as he blankly waits for you, holding out the keys.
With slightly flustered cheeks, you swallow, carefully leaning down—his domineering presence is sincerely wounding your resolve. Your hand cradles his bicep as you tenderly press your lips to his, kissing him. You’re surprised when he actually reciprocates it, kissing you back. Feeding into the sweet liplock for all of six seconds, you pull away before his scent hypnotizes you, snatching the keys. 
“Thank you.” You quickly mumble before scurrying away, yearning to be out of his study already. Taehyung doesn’t say anything else, which at first, makes you glad, though on second thought, causes your heart to sink. He didn’t mention last night; would he not have used it to solidify his win? Or is he purposefully ignoring it because he’s pissed?
Did he possibly not even remember last night? There’s no way, you’re certain Taehyung woke up first and tucked you into bed; he surely found you both lying naked together, too. 
Swallowing your pride, you swivel around on your foot. “By the way… um, about last night.” 
He lifts his gaze, paying attention to you. “Yes?” 
“It… it doesn’t count.” You manage to say. “We were both drunk, and it’s hard to remember, anyway.” 
Taehyung furrows an intimidating brow of his. “I understand, but it still completely counts, Y/N. We had sex.” 
“We fell asleep before we could even orgasm, Tae.” You argue. “It doesn’t count, alcohol just makes us really horny.” 
“We were already horny before the alcohol, Y/N.” Taehyung reasons. “It does count; we couldn’t control ourselves and had sex, let’s consider it a draw.” 
You exclaim with confusion, hand finding your hip. “What? A draw? No way some drunk sex ends everything at a draw.” 
Your husband sighs behind his desk. “Yes it does, Y/N. Like you said, neither of us really remember it, so it’s no use analyzing who seduced who first. Let's act like grown ups and call it a fair draw, okay?” 
Scoffing, you fold your arms over your chest. “It was probably you who lost, anyway.” 
“It was you, actually.” Taehyung’s quick to bite back. “I have better tolerance and therefore better memory of last night; I remember you starting things, Y/N.” 
“We can’t be sure of that,” you retort. “We were both wasted and clearly very horny, you just don’t want to admit that you lost.” 
Taehyung crudely laughs. “Win or lose, drunk sex means a draw, end of discussion.” Your husband finalizes. “Even though it was technically you, I’m being nice and letting us end off on a draw; cherish my kindness, sweetie.” 
Indignation immediately floods your system, puffing your cheeks at him. “Shut up, you didn’t win for shit, your tolerance isn’t even that much better than mine.” 
“Yes it is.” 
“No it isn’t.” 
“Yes it is.” 
“No it isn’t.” 
“Yes it is!” 
“No it isn’t!” 
You and Taehyung immaturely fight again, stuck in a constant back and forth of who gave into who first. 
“Actually, it started at the dinner table when you couldn’t even keep your hands off me, you were clearly trying to make me horny!” You screech.
“Actually, it started when you purposefully wore that skirt and those thigh-highs, it wouldn’t be the first time you weaponized your outfits to make me horny!” He retaliates.
Hollering at each other for another five obnoxious minutes, you grow fed up. 
“Ugh! You’re an insufferable sore loser, you can never stand letting me be right with your damn ego!” You irritatedly shout.
“My ego? You never stand for an option where you’re wrong, you’re worse!” He loudly counters.
“Goddamnit, you’re so stubborn!” 
“You’re more stubborn!” 
“Fuck you, Taehyung. You know what? Let’s just never have sex again, yeah?” You condescendingly finalize. 
“Okay, fine, no sex.” Taehyung nonchalantly shrugs. “Suffer without it, you horny brat.” 
Your jaw drops at his audacity, eyes burning with anger. “Fine!” 
“Fine!” Taehyung yells after you, his eyes similarly simmering with frustration. 
“Fine, no sex!” 
“No sex!” He repeats. 
“No sex, ever again, never ever!” You bark.
“Never!” 
“Never!” 
“Good.”
“Good!”
You stare at him, and he stares at you. Your blood boils with anger underneath your skin, but your cunt vibrates, grinding your teeth to manage the feeling. Taehyung remains unbothered with his folded arms and reprimanding eyes, but his constant swallowing gives him away. 
Nobody says a word, nobody moves a muscle, and yet the tension enlivens whatever frustration is simmering, the energy absolutely palpable. 
Holding your gaze, Taehyung grinds his teeth, biceps tensing underneath his dress shirt as he seriously contemplates something. He lets out a long, deep sigh afterwards, shaking his head. “Godamnit, so what if I lose…” 
Suddenly, Taehyung kicks out his chair, abandoning his desk to walk over to you. He grabs your face faster than the speed of light, and crashes his lips against yours. 
You’re winded, eyes wide with shock at the sheer force of his kiss, but the carnality excites you, wantonly swinging your arms around his neck. His eager  hands glide down your body, feeling all of you in your thin babydoll before clasping the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump. 
You instantly moan into his mouth when you hop into his arms, having missed the taste of him. He’d just had something sweet; the hint of vanilla cream and strawberries explodes over your taste buds, slithering your tongue further into his mouth.
Taehyung shudders out a deep groan, swirling his tongue around yours when greedy lust overwhelms him. He becomes impatient, effortlessly carrying you towards his long corduroy couch. Taehyung quickly seats himself as he positions you over his lap, his hands greedily wrapping around, hungirly embracing you.
He presses your body into his, encouraging you to grind your hips over him. He pries away for air, breathily speaking against your lips. “Not wearing anything underneath, huh?” 
You lightly chuckle, swiping your tongue over his pillowy lips. “Nothing at all.” 
With mischief gleaming in his eyes, Taehyung attacks your lips, making out with you shamelessly as his hands travel downwards, suddenly cupping your bare ass. He squeezes you, even teases your damp core in a way that makes you jump in his arms, squeaking. 
He heartily laughs before snatching the ends of your babydoll, his timbre husky when he speaks. “I really love this on you; a babydoll for my babydoll,” he pecks you, “but I’m tearing it off.” 
Simultaneously, Taehyung strips off your nightwear in one swift motion, leaving you bare over his clothed figure. Your fingers grapple onto his hair as your pussy earns god-like friction over his dress pants, whimpering like a needy slut. 
The feeling ignites an insatiable hunger inside you, biting down on Taehyung’s bottom lip. You tug on it, watching it bounce back to its place with dilated, ravenous eyes. His look of sheer bliss leaves you craving him like a drug, done with denying yourself your gorgeous husband. 
Grabbing his shirt, you pin Taehyung down on his couch, his eyes excitedly shimmering when his back crashes into the cushions. “Fuck, baby…” 
“I’ll go insane without you.” You unevenly breathe, fingers making quick work of his buttons. “Take this off, now.” 
Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, ripping open his shirt as your hands visit his pesky belt, nearly ripping it off him. Your husband eagerly watches as you shove down his pants, smirking as he tucks a casual hand underneath his head. “Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.” 
Playfully narrowing your eyes at him, you suppress a laugh. “Says you of all people.” 
For your revenge, you clasp Taehyung’s unoccupied hand and tuck it against your soaked, dripping pussy folds. You let out a broken shudder, bracing your hands against his strong, expansive chest. Taehyung curses underneath his breath, fascinated by your wetness. 
“Shit, baby, you’re fucking soaked.” He coos. “Is this for me? Do I make my baby this wet?” 
You obediently nod, lightly grinding your hips into his hand, adoring the way his gigantic palm easily envelopes your cunt. You bite your lip to suppress raunchy moans, Taehyung’s caramel-smooth voice gracing your ears. “Do this over my cock, baby. Put me inside, yeah?” 
You mewl hearing his words, wrapping your palm around his erect member. You free him from the confines of his boxers, gushing brand new arousal when you feel how deliciously hard he is. His thick veins, his impressive girth, the delicious heft of him. Stroking his pulsing shaft, Taehyung melts underneath you; clearly you’re not the only one who’s been dying for sex. 
“Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.” You mock him. 
“Fuck off.” 
“Fuck me, Taehyung.” 
He lightly laughs at your wittiness, and without further ado, you elevate your hips, aligning him with your entrance before piercing yourself on his dick. 
You gasp when he enters you, surprised by how large Taehyung feels. He’s always been big, but something about your recent promise of abstinence made Taehyung feel foreignly large, falling forward upon his body. 
It’s imperative you stop, digging your nails into his chest when the ache harms you. “Fuck…” 
Taehyung worriedly grips you. “What’s wrong, Princess?” 
“You’re big… you’re so big, Taehyung.”You struggle to speak, breathing through the intrusion of his flesh.
“Shit, I feel too big after a while, don’t I?” He curses, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, soothing you. “Take what you can, Princess, only what you can.” 
His gentle voice nearly waters your eyes, feeling your love for him meld with your incredible horniness. Your walls soak him in thereafter, as though Taehyung were returning home. The pain simmers long enough that pleasure explodes inside you, walls adjusting to his size. They pulse erratically, but adore the familiar insertion, welcoming him with open arms. 
Once you’re entirely speared over Taehyung’s cock, animalistic grunts leave you both. Your body feels as though it’s on white hot fire, and Taehyung’s stomach contracts attempting to hold back his load, hungry eyes beaming up at you from below. 
“Y/N, I swear to God…” He breathes, barely able to speak, throwing his head back to regain himself. “If you ride me right now, I’ll fill you with an entire fucking soccer team.” 
Ligtly chuckling, you elevate your hips, slowly drawing him out of your sex just to slowly sink back over him. You both shudder with pleasure at the electrifying sensation, hormones raging, bodies eager for each other. 
Taehyung’s tight groans drive your tenacity, slowly sliding his cock in and out of you until you become addicted to him, addicted to the feeling of him constantly entering and leaving you, filling the very end of you. His dick is akin to ecstasy, riding him as though nothing else could satiate you’re intense hunger.
You reach your hands back to clasp onto his thighs, letting your body bounce over his cock without shame. The drag of his flesh inside you feels earth-shattering, losing your mind to the explosive friction, the slippery, sloppy sliding. 
Taehyung becomes obsessed with the erotic scene before him, greedy hands worshipping your jostling body, his tender words praising you for the goddess you are. 
“Holy fuck, Y/N.” He groans with blown out eyes, gripping your maneuvering hips. “This so fucking hot, you literally drive me insane.” 
Eating up his words, you are gyrating your hips, serving your clit the attention it deserves. This time you lean forward, fingers digging into Taehyung’s taut stomach as you relish in his perfectly shaped member, feeling his thick veins and throbbing meat serve you heaven on a silver platter. 
Taehyung’s hand snakes up your body, lightly clasping around your neck. He listens to your moans heighten in pitch as he carefully grips your throat, watching your hips roll over his spasming meat. 
“My fucking god,” he swallows, timbre deep and husky—needy. “You’re the most gorgeous woman on Earth.” 
Simultaneously, Taehyung slips his fingers into your adjacent mouth, prompting you to swirl your tongue around his digits. Your moans become muffled as a result, eyes falling to your crazed husband beneath you. He eats up your fucked out expression, tears brimming your eyes as your orgasm deliciously simmers inside you, burning brightly between your thighs. 
You suck his fingers, riding him like a Harley, so close to losing yourself in the throes of your pleasure, it’s hard to maintain your equilibrium. Your head is spinning, your body is aching, blood is rushing so rapidly inside you you can’t even manage to keep up—you’re only able to register your cunt smothering Taehyung’s cock as though it were fostering a symbiotic relationship. 
Light-headedness plagues you before Taehyung suddenly rises from his laid position, drawing his fingers out of your mouth. He cautiously cradles your weak body against his front, protectively enveloping you in his warmth. 
“Stay with me, baby.” Taehyung purrs, softly throbbing inside your sex. “I know it’s good, but don’t let it all rush to your head; you’ll have a sub drop, babygirl.” His loving voice resurfaces you, feeling him guide your chin downwards to find his eyes. “Stay awake for me—I need more of you.” 
He casts some strands from your face as you deliriously nod, mimicking his calmer breaths. Once your breathing is more leveled, Taehyung’s gigantic hands weave around your ass. He grips you hard as he taked the wheel, controlling the tides of your sex, languidly, sensually fucking up into you. 
You whimper, sighing as Taehyung masterfully maneuvers your hips downwards as he thrusts up, burrowing a home inside you. He continuously sheaths himself inside your velvety walls as you gasp against his mouth, suppressing your moans. 
“Why are you being quiet, Princess?” He lightly reprimands, pecking your lips. 
“Mrs. Choi… and Seo,” you moan, hiding your flushed face in his neck. “They’ll hear us.” 
“Let them,” he growls in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Let them hear it; let them hear how good I fuck you.” 
Tired of holding yourself back, you relax every limb in your body, letting yourself openly react to your husband’s godly love-making. Your breasts jostle as you bounce up and down his cock, skin slapping against skin, addicted to the heat of his body. 
“God, how was I ever gonna survive without this, huh?” Taehyung groans, holding your body hostage as he jackhammers into you. “You and your perfect pussy? My pretty girl?” 
You gasp for dear life when Taehyung pierces himself so deep inside you, you nearly scream. “Fuck-!” Your body’s vibrating, ecstasy coursing through your veins as you lose all sense of sanity, hands clutching his sturdy shoulder for dear life. “Taehyung, let me reverse cowgirl you, turn me around.” You breathily request. 
Taehyung lets out a proud huff as he maneuvers you over him, positioning your back to face his front. You sigh out pronographically as he guides your hips over his cock this way. The leverage you gain is powerful, your palms grappling his knees to develop a crazy, pornographic pace over his dick. 
You indulge in the angle change, freely bouncing as you please. His flesh constantly scrapes your frontal walls, losing your mind. Taehyung lets out a string of breathy curses, fucking you from underneath in accordance with you. You reach back for support, your husband instantly intertwining your fingers as you incline forward, and he reclines back, both of you fucking each other like horny bunnies. 
Your salacious noises are endless, no doubt echoing throughout the house and reaching the working housekeepers in your home, but neither of you care when the sex was so god-tier, your orgasms feel as though they’ll be cosmic.
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, baby, slow down.” Taehyung warns you, hissing with pleasure. “I’m literally gonna cum, holy shit I can’t hold back.” 
“Then don’t,” you coo, swiveling your hips over his perfect cock, toes curling with undeniable pleasure. “Fill me up, Taehyung. I meant what I said last night, I want your babies.” 
“I meant what I said, too.” He suddenly tugs your back flush agains his front, embracing you from behind. He morphs his fast and hard thrusts into slow, deep strokes, moaning into your ear. “I’ll give you all the babies you want.” 
You bite your lip as you whimper, hugging his hands around your stomach as he intimately fucks you, laying affectionate kisses across your naked shoulder. Your hand snakes into his hair behind you, sighing pleasurably as he kisses your pulse point, languidly making love to you. 
“Tae… don’t drag this out.” You beg, gripping his locks. “I need to cum, it’s been too fucking long.” 
“Yeah? Want me to make cum?” He huskily whispers, hands closing around your breasts to fondle them, seductively caressing your nipples. You jolt with white hot electricity, whimpering over him with a nod. 
He suddenly lays a hand on your tit, lightly slapping it. “How many times do I have to tell you about words, Y/N?” 
You shudder as essence oozes out of you, coating his throbbing dick. “Yes, Taehyung, please.” 
You feel him smirk against your skin, suddenly gripping you. “Then you better hold on tight, babe.” 
Swiftly, Taehyung lifts you up from the couch and shoves you against the coffee table in front of you, pinning your front to the frigid, cherry wood surface. It takes you some seconds to realize you’re bent over, ass out for him before he plunges back inside your pulsing pussy, grappling onto your hips. 
Your fingers scratch the table as Taehyung delivers hard, rough thrusts from behind, fucking you with delicious ferality. He pleasures himself to the nines, grunting animalistically as he gives it to you. “God, your ass, Princess, I’m in love.” 
You moan loudly, shoving your face into the table. “Fuck, Taehyung, my clit, please fucking touch my clit.” 
Taehyugn doesn’t need repetition, slithering his hand towards your throbbing pearl and fondling it with tight circles, drawing tantalizing patterns. You practically screech, shivering with pleasure as he fucks you senseless, does you right in every possible way. 
Your husband’s hips slam against yours with each thrust, each precise stroke coiling that wire inside you so, so tight, you’re crying out with unprecedented pleasure. 
“Fuck, I need to see your face,” Taehyung breathes, releasing a throaty groan. “Let me see your pretty face when you moan like that, baby.” 
Taehyung grabs where he must to turn you on your back, effortlessly man-handling you. He hands slam either side of you, now entangled in an incredibly intimate missionary position. Your legs automatically lock around Taehyung's waist, and his hands cradle the back of your thighs, spreading you wider. 
He brokenly groans when he shoves himself deeper inside you, his face mere inches from yours. “Holy fucking shit, fuck…” 
“Such a foul mouth, Mr. Kim.” You tease, voice lilting with a moan when he thrusts into you. 
“Sex this nasty with a gorgeous wife like you can do that to a man.” He snarks, burrowing deeper to reach the end of you. Your eyes physically glimmer with wanton need as he strokes your fluttering sex, feeling your heart glow brighter which each delicious fuck. Taehyung hoists one of your legs up on his shoulder, cradling it to him as he becomes impossibly close, smothering your smaller body underneath. He cleverly rolls his hips, serving both himself and your throbbing clit. 
You moan against his mouth, Taheyung relishing in your breathy little reactions. His other hand slips underneath your head to cushion you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His beautiful coffee irises pierce yours, ensnaring your heart.
“Princess…” he breathes, grunting as he rocks his hips. “I love you; I love making love to you.” 
Your chest explodes with colours, eyes revealing your emotion as you keep his gaze. 
“That’s why… I like having sex. It’s not about getting my dick wet… or blowing my load in you…” he shudders out a painful moan as he slows down his thrusts, no doubt pulsing with his release. “I love feeling your skin on mine, being intimate with you, feeling our bodies move like they belong together.” 
You swallow back tears; something about the sincerity in his voice softens you, puddy in his hands. 
“I love making you feel good, I love seeing the pleasure in your eyes, the way your body craves me. I love it all, baby, I love you.” He affectionately coos, passionately shoving himself inside you. “And I want us… to have a baby. I want a little me and you running around, I want to have a family with you, to share my life with you.” 
It’s no surprise moisture floods your vision, sniffling it away. “Taehyung…” 
“So please, never think I’m only here for the sex. I’m here for you, I’m in this because I love you, Y/N.” His tone seeps with saccharine sweet truth, watching his coffee orbs softly swirl. “And I wanna show it to you like this, by making love to you—making love for hours and hours until you finally grasp how I feel about you.” 
Emotions clogs your chest with undeniable tears, narrowly able to manage them before a sudden long, deep stroke of his ultimately unravels you—both physically and emotionally. Your hands clutch his bread-like cheeks, eyes glistening with genuity. “I love you more, Tae.” You coo. “I love making love with you, I want to share a family with you, too.” You speak from the heart, feeling every cell in your body vibrate with such intense arousal, you suddenly erupt with an earth-shattering orgasm, nearly blacking out. 
This feels far too powerful compared to a regular orgasm, though, left completely winded, body jelly-like. It’s only when you feel something incredibly wet dribbling down your thighs do you sense what’s really happening. 
“Fuck, oh fucking hell… baby, you just squirted.” You hear your husband enthusiastically voice. “Oh that’s sexy, that’s so fucking sexy.” Taehyung’s voice is rich with fascination, his cock picking up the pace inside you. “Oh shit, I’m coming, I can’t hold it back—” 
“Come, Taehyung, come inside me.” You sweeten your tone, sloppily kissing him. “Come inside my tight pussy, baby.”
And Taehyung paints your walls entirely white with his hot, abundant cum, letting out a feral grunt that indicates the sheer size of his load. He hisses as he slowly fucks you, watching your fluids mix together between your bodies. 
“Shit…” he lightly curses, viewing your chest constantly rise and fall, your legs terribly trembling. He gains enough viable strength to draw out of you, your cunt immediately leaking out his seed, but Taehyung’s quick to swipe it back inside you, tucking his palm against your battered hole. 
“Soak my cum back in, baby.” Taehyung softly requests. “Let me feel you do it.” 
Following alon , you squeeze your walls as firmly as possible, letting him feel your fluttering pussy. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, fascinated as he watches. You’re barely conscious, only able to register his words and movements, but your surroundings are fading, limbs utterly spent. 
You nearly fall over when you attempt to rise, Taehyung catching you in his arms with panic. “Woah, woah, are you okay, Princess?” 
Taehyung seats himself back on his couch, cradling you in his sheltering arms over his lap. He curls your hair behind your ear, analyzing your sleepy, exhausted features. “Was it too much, baby?” 
You can’t even speak, simply shaking your head—only one thing remains fresh on your mind. “Let’s… never… do that again.” 
Fondly chuckling at your weary state, Taehyung presses his lips to your temple, affectionately kissing you. “Never again, babe.” 
Smiling at that, you cozy into his chest, letting sleep drift you away from the real world. You’re almost a happy goner when you hear your husband’s rich, caramel voice, his palm rubbing your back.
“So… wanna go for round two?” 
You pry an eye open, shooting him a puzzled look. “Wh-what? 
Taehyung snorts. “Round two, babe, in our sex dungeon. Did you really think you could make me go sexless for a week and I wouldn’t want to fuck you for hours?” 
Swallowing, your eyes soften with pleading. “Taehyung, you’re insane!” 
“What’s insane is that I didn’t get to make love to you for 6 days,” he counters, grabbing your chin to lift it, his amused eyes meeting yours. “Now I’m going to make up for each day I didn’t get to, starting with a little surprise.” He suddenly leans down towards your ear, letting his lips ever-so-faintly brush you. 
“I’m edging you with the very same vibrator you dared touch yourself with.” He grits, fierce eyes piercing your very soul. “And we’re gonna do it for each and every time you disobeyed me.” 
Choking on air, your eyes widen, begging for Taehyung to grant you mercy, but he only shoots back an evil, devilish grin, spelling your inevitable doom—you’re not surviving this at all.
Your erotic, needy moans resound around your home later that day as Taehyung deliciously punishes you, bouncing off the walls to even reach your silent listeners downstairs.
Mrs. Choi and Seo can’t help but giggle together as they vacuum the first level, their cheeks coloured a bright red. 
“My my, what young love they have.” Mrs. Choi light-heartedly jokes. 
Mrs. Seo snickers in response, knowingly smiling. “I have a feeling they’ll stay young for a long, long time.”
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jeonqkooks · 2 months ago
Text
strictly platonic | jjk
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Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.
pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genre: best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut
warnings: jk is kinda annoying sometimes but he isn’t bad yk, jk being a dumb dumb and emotionally constipated, inexperienced reader, pining!, swearing, mention of inflation 😔, mention of alcohol consumption, half a second of toxic jealousy, denial of feelings, big dicc!jk obvi, kissing, making out, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, breast play, riding, multiple orgasms, crying during seggsy time, stomach bulging
word count: 19.4k
playlist: daylight - taylor swift; from afar - vance joy
note: the closer i was to finishing this fic, the more anxious i became and as i’m writing this a/n, i’m a blubbering mess of nerves 🥴 this is a result of me being obsessed with college au’s and the classic bff2l trope, and she’s also the longest piece i’ve written!! idk i guess that’s it. oh and kudos to whoever can spot a tongue tied reference <3
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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Over the years, you have accumulated a list of annoying things about Jeon Jungkook.
He’s very loud, and has absolutely zero subtlety. He’s competitive—perhaps to an alarming extent—and chews with his mouth open sometimes. He’s way too stubborn for his own good and would rather eat soap than admit he’s in the wrong. He’s childish and full of pride at the same time, which is always a combination for disaster.
He can be selfish though he doesn’t mean to; maybe it’s just a side effect of being an overgrown baby. He needs to cuddle when either of you sleeps over, or else he gets agitated and won’t stop whining until you slot yourself into his side.
Jungkook hogs the blanket. He forces you to go on 6AM runs with him. He thinks everything you own is also his by extension, but not vice versa. He constantly blasts music while you’re trying to study, and only turns it down a couple notches when you threaten to tell his mom about that time he was in middle school and broke one of her previous vases, but somehow managed to pin it on the dog.
Despite all that, Jungkook is very charming, effortlessly so. Ever since he had that growth spurt at 14, girls started flocking to his side and vying for his attention, and surprisingly, his previously quiet self morphed into someone more confident and outspoken.
Throughout high school and now halfway into university, Jungkook has become the person that guys wanted to be, and girls wanted to be with.
He looks as if Apollo had descended from the heavens and made himself home among mere mortals. With fluffy dark hair, sparkly Bambi eyes, a jawline that can cut glass, and a well-toned body underneath his oversized hoodies, he’s the textbook definition of “boyfriend material”. Wherever he goes, Jungkook just exudes that charisma that makes people stop and say, “Wow. That. I want that. Where do I get myself someone like that? Do they sell them on Amazon?”
He’s smart in that casual and infuriating way where he still manages to ace all his classes without ever really trying. All his professors adore him even though he’s almost always late to class and hands in his assignments at least a few days late without giving any kind of notice or excuse. 
Jungkook seems like the total package—someone that mothers would love to call their son-in-law. (But, not everyone is privy to all his flaws like you are.)
And if all of that isn’t enough to knock the pants off of every wide-eyed college-aged girl, he’s a Fine Arts major who looks like he came straight out of a Pinterest moodboard, who wears a pair of those thin-rimmed glasses in class that always makes the TA just a little distracted. Who carries around a leather-bound journal wherever he goes like he’s a Shakespearean protagonist, just in case inspiration strikes and he needs a place for his sketches. It’s the journal that you saved up for three months to get him as a high school graduation gift, but also the very same one that everyone on campus daydreams about having a page dedicated to them in it.
(No one knows this other than a handful of his closest friends and family, but Jungkook doesn’t draw people, unless a school assignment requires him to do so. That’s his one rule when it comes to his creativity. He says it’s too easy, that the beauty of human beings is limited but more importantly, it’s fickle. Instead, he prefers to portray nature and inanimate objects, things that “remain eternal”, whatever the hell that means.)
There are, however, a couple of downsides to having godly looks and being the campus heartthrob.
You reckon this inconveniences you more than it does him. You can’t recall how many girls have come up to you for advice on how to approach him. Or how many love notes you’ve been asked to pass since ninth grade, only for him to skim and toss them.
(Jungkook doesn’t actually throw them away; he just never responds to any of them, thereby bestowing upon you the honor of watching smiles drop from eager lips when you regurgitate the same lines of “Sorry, he’s not looking to date right now” to his admirers.)
The attention gets to his head sometimes, but at least he’s never contracted the same asshole disease that guys get whenever someone throws a couple of looks their way.
You’re his messenger of heartbreak, as he once so annoyingly called it. It helps that he’s your best friend, and you make him treat you to a nice meal after each time. If it happens to be someone especially persistent who would constantly badger you unless you give them his phone number, he would throw in five extra coffees for all your troubles.
What doesn’t make it easier, though, is the fact that you’re also one of those lovestruck girls whose heart he breaks on a daily basis, but you’ll never let him in on that little secret.
You’ve known him nearly all your life, and you’ve been in love with him for half that time.
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You should’ve gotten started on your philosophy paper ages ago, aka three weeks prior when your professor sent out reminders telling your class to do just that. But what have you been up to instead? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Well, you’ve been entertaining your clown of a best friend through all his shenanigans, but you always do that anyway.
Granted, the paper shouldn’t even be that long—5 pages maximum, no external sources needed beside the weekly class readings—but what’s important is the principle right? You need to start holding yourself to higher standards now that you’re starting an internship soon. 
Nevertheless, you left your assignment until the very end again, and now the paper is due in two days. As you hunch over your laptop at your desk, trying to compare and contrast the differences between Plato and Aristotle, your main distraction rolls into the room like a tornado.
“Eunji broke up with me,” Jungkook declares loudly as he barges in, drops his backpack to the floor with a thud, and plops onto your bed. He doesn’t even need to check to know where you are; he just buries his face into a pillow and groans in frustration.
You’re not fazed by his sudden entrances anymore. He does this at least once a day, just storming into your place and making himself at home. To be fair, it’s probably your fault for giving him a key, but oh well, he gets best friend privileges you suppose.
“Congrats?” you say confusedly as you swivel your chair around to face him. “I thought you wanted to break up with her?”
He straightens his form as much as he can on your too small bed, and props himself on an elbow to look at you. “Did you not hear me?” he says with a frown. “She broke up with me. I got dumped!”
You roll your eyes but you entertain him with a scandalized gasp anyway. “How dare she! This is unacceptable!” Maybe it’s a little too much, because he’s glaring at you and proceeds to chuck a stuffed koala on the bed at your head.
“It’s not funny!” Jungkook groans again, louder and more dramatic this time as his limbs flail about like a petulant child. “I’m heartbroken. Get the stash.”
“The stash” is your drawer of fancy snacks reserved only for special occasions or emergencies. 
He’s weaseled his way into The Stash more than you. Another annoying thing about Jungkook is that he steals your food.
“Stop being dramatic, and stop getting into my stash! Inflation is going up and you know how expensive those vinegar chips already are.”
It’s a losing battle; you know it every time you open your mouth to scold him.
When he sits up, crawls his way over to the edge of the bed, juts out his bottom lip and widens his eyes to stare at you like a Golden Retriever, you feel yourself melt a little at the sight. Sure, you’ve developed somewhat of a tolerance to it after him having pulled this trick on you countless times before, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to it.
You groan and go to fulfill his request, sullenly throwing him the bag of chips and a couple of candy bars. Jungkook punches the air triumphantly.
Anywho, he goes into detail about how he had envisioned the whole ordeal to go, what he was going to say to Eunji to soften the blow of the breakup because as much as he thought they were a bad fit together, he still wanted to be cordial and maybe even remain friends in the future.
That all went out the window when she suddenly stopped him before he could launch into a big speech though.
“She said she wanted to get back with her ex!” he recants exasperatedly, stuffing his face with the chips you bought with your hard-earned money. “Jinyoung or Junyoung or whatever the hell his name is. The one that looks like the flounder from The Little Mermaid and ran into the basketball pole that one time!”
“That’s mean.”
“It’s true, I saw it happen!”
You tear into a candy bar and take a bite. “So you got your ego bruised. Big whoop.”
“But it’s… It’s not something that happens to me often! Or ever!”
“You’re not the center of the universe. You sound like a douchebag.”
“Don’t.” Jungkook gives you a pointed look. “You know I’m not like that.”
“Yeah, I know,” you shrug indifferently, “but you sound like it.” 
He grunts in response and goes back to his top priority mission of dropping crumbs all over your bed. You both munch on your respective treats in silence for a few moments. With your eyes trained on nothing in particular, you think about Plato’s ideal state and how much he believed humans were rational beings capable of establishing structured societies. Truth be told, that’s really all you got. You haven’t been doing a very good job at paying attention in this class.
The muscle bunny next to you clears his throat, breaking your train of (very limited) thoughts on Greek philosophers. He doesn’t meet your eyes, only keeps them fixed on the bag of chips in his hands.
“So, um,” he starts, fingers fiddling with the paper wrapping, “I might have said something to Eunji after she said she wanted to break up.”
“What?” You raise a questioning eyebrow. He hesitantly looks at you and you gasp. “Jungkook! Did you slutshame her?”
“The fuck– No! Why would I do that?!”
“Then what did you do?”
“I told her…” he stammers before dropping the bag in his lap and raising his hands up in surrender. “Wait, you have to promise me you won’t be mad.”
“Jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him, cautious of what he has to say. “What did you do?”
“You have to promise me first.”
“Just freaking tell me, you dipshit.”
“If you won’t promise me–”
“Ugh, fine! I promise! Now what the fuck you say to do Eunji?”
Jungkook threads his fingers together and stares at you like he’s an anchorman about to give you the latest news of the day. “I told her I wanted to break up because you and I want to date.”
Alarms ring and sirens blare. Your heart stutters foolishly in your chest. Bits of chocolate get lodged in your throat.
What the fuck?
“What the fuck!” you screech in disbelief. “Jeon Jungkook!” Grabbing the nearest pillow, you whack him directly in the face. The man tumbles off your bed with a high-pitched squeal, taking the half-eaten bag of chips along with him. Golden crisps fly everywhere.
“Ow! What the fuck? You promised!” 
“What the fuck do you mean “What the fuck?” Jungkook! Why would you say that?!”
The man rubs the spot on his ass where he landed on, and glares at you with those stupid eyes of his. 
“I couldn’t think of anything else!”
“Oh, you dipshit.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell her what you were supposed to in the first place?”
“What, that I thought we weren’t compatible? Yeah, right. The girl had just told me she wanted to be with another dude. Anything I said afterward that didn’t involve me dating someone else would sound like I only wanted to save face.”
“You do only want to save face,” you deadpan. Why does he have the mindset of a 12-year-old girl?
“Well she doesn’t need to know that,” he shrugs, picking a chip off the floor and throwing it in his mouth. Ugh, gross. “Anyway, the damage is done. Sue me.”
“Oh my God,” you groan in absolute vexation. “How do you manage to get more stupid by the day? Okay, fine. Now you’re just gonna be even more embarrassed when she finds out that you lied, because you and I are not dating.”
Jungkook rubs his imaginary beard for a few seconds, still sitting among the chaos of sliced potatoes and humming as if in thought. “I’ll figure something out.”
You chuck your almost-finished candy bar at him, which he catches and eats the last piece. “God, whatever. It’s your problem. Now clean this up.” You gesture to the mess in the room.
“You made me fall.”
“I don’t care. Clean it up!”
“...Yes ma’am.”
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“Jeon Jungkook.”
“What? And stop saying my full name.”
“Well, then stop telling me to kiss you.”
“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“Jungkook!” you shove him in the shoulder. “We were in the second grade!”
“So? Still counts. I tell everyone you were my first kiss.”
Your frown falters to make room for surprise. That’s… new.
You were in primary school; obviously he was your first kiss too. You don’t go around telling people that though.
“Why don’t you just… I don’t know, find someone new to date? It’s not like there’s a short supply of people who would be willing to do that,” you deflect.
Jungkook has been bothering you all morning with this absurd idea. Your paper is due in six hours and he keeps moping around your room, begging for your help in his dumbass plan. 
(The plan in question—which he claims to have been birthed from his big wrinkly brain and bathed in brilliance—is to convince Eunji that you two really are in a budding romance.
The first step of this scheme of his? Post a picture of you kissing.
Every other step after that? Pretend to be lovesick puppies every time you’re seen in public together. Which may also involve locking lips for people to see.)
“But I told her that there’s something going on between us!” He gestures to the both of you. “You and me! Specifically!”
“Sure, let’s assume that’s a valid argument–”
“Which it is.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up. Hypothetically, I get why you’d think this could work. But why do we have to… kiss? Why can’t we just hold hands or cuddle or something?”
“Okay genius.” Jungkook pokes a finger at your temple. “We’re not exactly lowkey with the PDA. Everybody knows we do all of that. No one is going to believe it! The only things we haven’t done are kiss and fuck. Unless you want to make a sex ta–”
You wave your hands in the air to stop him from finishing that sentence as your cheeks heat up. He’s right; you’re just fishing for excuses at this point. It’s true that you two are quite affectionate with each other, even in public. You do everything that a couple does minus the, well, kissing and fucking—except whenever he has a girlfriend of course. You can’t count how many people have mistaken your friendship for something because from the outside, it does look that way, doesn’t it? You don’t like to dwell on this fact, but you can’t deny it either.
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up. Fine, why do you even have to post it online? Everyone on campus, and I mean everyone, would see it.”
“Well, duh.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes now. This motherfucker sure has a lot of attitude for someone who needs a favor. “I can’t exactly slide into Eunji’s DMs and randomly hit her up with a photo of us sucking faces.”
“We’re not sucking faces. Jesus– Okay, would the group know? How do you even expect to convince everybody else? You’re literally asking me to be your–” you swallow before continuing, “fake girlfriend.”
“The group” being all of your close friends. You have an odd pack of them, to be honest.
Taehyung is probably Jungkook’s second best friend only after you, what with being in the same major and having the same gaming interests. It’s uncanny how similar they are sometimes; it’s like two peas in a pod. Two peas that pass one brain cell back and forth in a game of mental dodgeball.
Namjoon is a senior whom you met while trying to sell an old bookshelf through Facebook Marketplace. You thought he was a creep at first; he had no profile picture and the only post on his timeline was from seven years prior, and it was a photo of a tree in black and white. When you arranged a meetup with him to exchange the goods, you made Jungkook go with you in case Namjoon was a kidnapper and/or murderer. Of course, that didn’t turn out to be true at all, and he’s been like an older brother to both you and Jungkook ever since.
Yerin is Namjoon’s ex, and it’s a wonder how they can be in the same tight-knit circle considering their history. But they always reassure everyone that the breakup was amicable and cordial, that there was no love lost between friends. Another fun tidbit is that they started out as roommates, and they still live in the same apartment to this day. Go figure.
It’s not surprising that they’re the most level headed out of all of you; you often joke that they’re like divorced parents to you, Jungkook and Taehyung.
Yerin might be the closest person you have to a role model. She’s calm and collected, but she never takes shit from anyone. You’re the only two girls, so that’s another reason why you’re naturally drawn to her. That, and the fact that she’s the one of the only two people who know about your little secret concerning a certain Bambi-eyed boy. (You like to think that you’re a good actress when it comes to pretending you only see Jungkook as a friend, but Yerin—and by extension Namjoon as well—is just ultra observant.)
And Yoongi… you don’t know why he’s even in the group, or how you all became friends with him in the first place. He graduated last year and is working part-time at the university as a TA while he figures out what he actually wants for a career. You reckon it might be a little late to start doing that, but oh well, everyone’s got their own process. (Come to think of it, you vaguely recall Jungkook adopting him into the group after he found the older man eating cheese sticks alone near a trashcan on campus and thought he was exuding “sad old man energy”.)
Jungkook gives you a devilish grin, and you already regret hearing what he has to say before he’s even uttered it. “Don’t you worry, sweet child. I have it all planned out.”
“Instead of working on your portfolio? Great use of your time by the way.”
“Zip it. Don’t distract me,” he chides and pats the top of your head. “We’ll spill after the photo goes up. Taehyung will definitely yell in the comments about how I didn’t tell him so at least that’ll look believable.”
It’s not like you’re entirely opposed to this idea. Sometimes when you’re cuddled up together in bed, watching a stupid movie of his choosing, you wonder what it’d be like to feel his lips on yours. Would they be as soft as they look? What kind of kisser is he? Is he the type to dive right in from the get-go—all hard and heated—or is he the type to start slow, ease you into it and douse your lips in warmth and honey before finally prying your mouth open with his tongue?
Every time you think about kissing Jungkook, it stings a little right where your heart is. Every time you think about anyone else kissing Jungkook, it hurts even more.
You want to kiss him, God knows you do; you just hope that if there was ever a day where he wanted to kiss you too, it’d be sincere and real. 
Not just for show because he can’t stand to lose to his ex-girlfriend in a game where he’s the only player.
“Jungkook,” you sigh. You really don’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m your friend, your best friend. Don’t you think it’d be weird if we kissed?” You take a breath before continuing. “I know it’s just pretend, but still.”
Even if you didn’t have feelings for him, it would be weird as hell. You don’t know anyone who has tested the waters of friendship and kissed, on the mouth, regardless of the circumstances, and lived to tell the tale. It always implodes.
Actually, maybe that’s not entirely true. People are a lot more open-minded now, and mere kisses don’t mean as much as they used to. But to you, they still do. Especially a kiss with Jungkook. Especially when you’re in love with him.
“It won’t be weird. My cousin makes out with his neighbor all the time and they’re still friends,” he shrugs.
“They what– How is that remotely related to this? They’re not best friends.”
“Exactly! We’re best friends. We’re too close for anything to come between us. I mean, you’ve seen me naked before.”
“Dipshit, you were changing and left your door wide open!” 
He only shrugs again. The nerve on this clown. It’s true what they say, isn’t it? All men have is the audacity.
You punch him in the arm and trudge over to your bed, plopping onto it with an exasperated groan. Every minute that passes by is a minute that you should be reading about Greek philosophers, not arguing with your friend about his godforsaken brain babies.
The bed dips beside you, and something shifts in the air. Jungkook tugs on your hand and pouts, whipping out the puppy dog eyes again. You turn away from him and face the wall.
If you give in to this, you’re not sure if you’d be able to act normal around him again. Not after having had a taste of what it’s like to kiss him. To be with him, to be loved by him in that way.
You don’t know what you’d do if your friendship suffers the consequences of this reckless decision. He’s one of the most important people in your life—your less-than-platonic feelings for him notwithstanding. You grew up together, you’re each other’s rock and strongest support system, you know one another better than you know yourselves.
He’s your chosen family, and the bond that you two have is the most special you’ll ever know. He’s the only one you want to comfort you when you’re feeling low, and the only one you come running to to share your happiness. He’s your person, and you know you’re his person too.
His. In more ways than one.
“Hey.” You feel his arm wrap around you and pull you toward his body, your back pressed against his chest. “Sorry for being annoying about this,” he says more softly now, and for a second you think he’s about to nix the topic completely, seeing your reluctance to participate. But then he continues and you remember that he’s still your good old stubborn Jungkook.
“I promise it’ll be fine. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like we have feelings for each other, right? We’ll know that it’s not real.”
You’ve lost all mental capacity to ponder about Aristotle at this point. You remain silent, too lost in your head about this whole fake kissing fiasco. While all of these thoughts and scenarios are running through your mind, your best friend is completely oblivious. He’s only thinking about how to one-up another girl.
When you take too long to respond, he shuffles nervously on the bed. “You’ll do it, right? We’re good?” he asks. “Because I have to head to a class right now…”
No. The simple word sits on the tip of your tongue, caged in by your teeth. If only you could open your mouth and hurl it at his head.
No. You use it every day with ease. You say it politely preceding a Thank you when the cashier at the convenience store asks if you’d like to buy a chocolate chip cookie to accompany your best friend’s banana milk. You say it with slight annoyance in your voice when your mom asks if you have a boyfriend yet. You say it casually and teasingly when Yoongi asks if he could have one of your friends’ phone number.
So why can’t you say it to Jungkook now? Every fiber of your being is resisting his plan, but the motor cortex in your frontal lobe just won’t let you verbalize it. When you really think about it, have you ever not gone along with his shenanigans, however stupid they may be? Sure, this one may take the cake as the most hare-brained conspiracy he’s come up with, but the person asking for your help is still him.
You heave a sigh and squeeze your eyes close. “Shut the fuck up and go to class, Jungkook. I have a paper to finish.”
The man leans closer to you warily until his lips are right next to your ear, thinking it’s a good sign that you haven’t shut down his idea.
“Fine. I’m going now,” he whispers. “Love you, bye bye.”
Thirty seconds pass and his face is still hovering over your head. You know what he wants. You say it so he’ll finally leave you alone, all the while wishing that there isn’t an alternative meaning behind your words.
“Love you too…”
He grins and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “See ya later!” he calls as he dashes out the door.
Sometimes, Jungkook can be selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.
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Fortunately, you managed to finish that dreadful paper ten minutes before the deadline. Unfortunately, that was the last thing on your to-do list of high priority tasks, and you had no other excuse to avoid being roped into Jungkook’s scheme.
There is one thing that might deter him, though. You could tell Yerin about this whole thing and she and Namjoon would be more than willing to shut it down for you before anything happens.
You could, but you don’t.
Honestly, the logic of the plan seems flawed, but that’s not something that you’re too focused on in all of this.
Oh, those two are going to have a field day picking apart your brain, aren’t they?
You’re sitting next to Jungkook on your bed, nervously toying with the loose threads of your shirt as he prepares to enact the first phase of his plan. He’s even gone as far as to dub your room “campaign headquarters”.
“Your dozens of admirers are gonna hate me,” you tell him. “They’ll say I sabotaged them to get you all to myself.”
He tilts his head to look at you. “But you don’t usually care about stuff they say.”
“I don’t,” you agree, sighing. “Okay, what if I want to get a boyfriend?”
“Do you?”
“No, but what if I change my mind–”
“You’re stalling,” he says. “I know I’ve been bugging you but you don’t have to do this if you aren’t 100% on board.”
“I know. I just…”
You just what? How do you tell him that once you do this, it’ll just make it infinitely more difficult to pretend you’re not in love with him?
Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes gently as the atmosphere turns more serious. “It’s me,” he tries to soothe you, even if he doesn’t know exactly what for. “It’s just me.”
You take a breath before you can look at him. When your eyes lock, he just smiles, and you can’t believe that you’re about to kiss that smile.
“Okay, so what do we do?”
“Just be normal. You’ve kissed other people before. If it makes things easier, pretend I’m Eunwoo.”
Your mind is too troubled to notice how his jaw slightly tenses as the words leave his mouth.
“Yeah,” you exhale, “okay.”
You had a thing with Cha Eunwoo last year. He was nice, very handsome, and he asked you out after you did a group project together for class. He was always the perfect gentleman, and he genuinely seemed to care about you. If things were different, you think you might’ve actually wanted to pursue a serious relationship with him.
But after three months, Eunwoo broke things off though you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. He was about to go on exchange for six months abroad, but that’s not why the relationship fell apart. He was willing to do long distance with you, but he said he felt like you were always putting him second after Jungkook, and he didn’t think that would change any time soon. If your best friend was first priority while he was still there, what would it be like when he was gone?
Well, maybe Namjoon and Yerin aren’t the only people who are privy to your little secret. You reckon Eunwoo must have known about it too, because the last thing he said to you was “Call me when you figure it out.” You never did though.
You didn’t tell Jungkook this; you only said that the pair of you just didn’t think long distance would work, but you’d always have a soft spot for Eunwoo.
Jungkook starts the timer on his camera and turns to you. Ten seconds, you can do this. Think of Eunwoo’s gorgeous eyes and that pretty smile. Just pretend he’s Eunwoo. Pretend he’s Eunwoo…
You close your eyes as he leans in. Eunwoo’s face pops up in your head.
Ready. Set. Action.
Your lips touch, and as quickly as Eunwoo appeared in your mind, he vanished just as fast. Something within you shatters but you ignore it for now; you can always open that door later. Right now, there’s only Jungkook—simultaneously in the center of your mind, at the forefront, lingering in the back…
Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook…
With his lips pressed against yours, he waits for the sound of the camera going off before pulling away from you, but he doesn’t stray too far.
A second isn't nearly enough to answer all your questions about what it’d be like to kiss him, but at least you’ve been allowed a glimpse into it now.
It happened in a flash but it felt like an eternity. In that split second, the fantasies in your head came true and fizzled out all at once. In that fleeting moment, you could pretend that he was yours, in every sense of the word. You could pretend that it was only one out of countless kisses you two would share. You could pretend that there wasn’t any line to tiptoe or any word that you had to keep unsaid. 
If only briefly, you could pretend that Jungkook loved you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to.
A lifetime within a second, and you’re oh so tempted to never leave that illusion.
He tilts his head and grins like he just won you a stuffed animal at the carnival. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Your faces are still way too close for comfort. You don’t even think you’ve been breathing. It feels like an airbag was deployed within your chest when your heart crashed so suddenly against your ribcage, but you soldier on.
Clearing your throat, you punch him in the arm. “You better hope you didn’t give me any disease.”
He scoffs playfully and turns away to grab the phone. He examines the photo and when he deems it good enough to post, a tiny twisted part deep in your psyche wants to object, to find any reason to dismiss the picture he took just to have a reason to do it again.
You watch him type in a cheesy caption, ‘Been a long time coming,’ along with your username and a purple heart tacked on at the end, and send it out for the whole world to see.
There’s really no going back now. 
Jungkook was right though; Taehyung is one of the first people to comment on the post.
vantae: BRO FOR REAL?? NO WAY WTFFFFF
jaykay97: @vantae 😉
He turns to you when his other college friends start to come through with their own comments expressing surprise or congratulations. He gives you a grin, one that’s blinding and makes his eyes crinkle.
“I’ll refill The Stash for you.”
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“Hey, what the fuck?” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “What do you mean it’s not real? Your tongue was in her mouth.”
“His tongue was not in my mouth, oh my God.” You reach across the table and smack him over the head, knocking off the glasses perched on his nose in the process. “The photo is… real. But we’re not dating.”
Jungkook silently nods in agreement beside you as Taehyung sends you a glare.
“Why are you two doing this again?” Yerin speaks up from his place next to Namjoon. Her stare burns into the side of your face so intensely that you can’t meet her eyes. You know she’ll drag you somewhere to talk later.
You turn to your best friend and nudge his shoulder; he sighs and gives the gang a full recap of what happened—mainly his initial stupidity that led you both to this. 
Okay, so maybe it’s not that long of a story. He takes about two minutes to fill them in on everything and by the time he’s finished, everyone stays mostly quiet. You don’t know how you expected them to react, but this isn’t it. It’s like they’re privy to a secret that you weren’t let in on.
“And here I thought it only happens in the movies, right?” you half-heartedly joke.
Namjoon and Yerin seem to share the same sentiments. They look at each other for a few seconds, silently communicating in that way that they do. It’s annoying sometimes, but right now it just makes you feel uneasy.
Maybe being silent isn’t an odd response for Yoongi; he’s like that most of the time anyway. Still, it adds to your nervousness.
Meanwhile, Taehyung is evidently disappointed. “You couldn’t have said Somi instead? That girl has a fat ass crush on you and she’s hot as fuck.” Classic Kim Taehyung.
“Shut up, Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and flips off the other art student. “I’m not into Somi, and I said I couldn’t think of another excuse, didn’t I?”
He sounds strangely irritated. Perhaps it’s due to all the attention in the room being directed at him (and you, but mostly him) for a reason that he doesn’t particularly enjoy. Like someone has laid egg shells all over the floor, your friends are having a hard time approaching the issue with Jungkook.
Namjoon is the first to offer some serious talk. “Kook,” he says, still searching for the right words, “have you really thought this through?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this really the best idea?” Then Namjoon’s eyes flicker to you for a split second and you gulp. “I mean, have you thought about the consequences it might have?”
There’s a slight scowl on Jungkook’s face when he answers. “Consequences? The hell are you talking about?”
“I’m only trying to–”
“Hyung, can you just get off my back?” he snaps. “It’s my business, okay?”
It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at Namjoon, or at any of you, really.
The older man retreats instantly, not pushing to talk to someone who’s clearly not interested in listening.
A moment of silence ensues, but it doesn’t last long before Taehyung diffuses the tension with a change of topic, prompting a conversation about some gossip he heard about a frat house on campus. Even Yoongi joins in as an attempt to make the air feel lighter. Everyone soon drifts away from your situation with Jungkook, but he doesn’t contribute anything to the chatter after his little outburst.
He doesn’t like it when people question his decisions and judgment, but he’s never been unreasonably closed off to it. Not that he’s being unreasonable now, but it toes that line a little. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood today.
Eventually, Jungkook slips away to the balcony to get some air. You follow him out after some minutes.
“So…” you start, hoping he’ll at least talk to you. You bump your hip against his.
“What? Are you here to lecture me too?”
It’s cool outside tonight. You’re grateful for the late summer chill for providing you with some much needed fresh air. From here, you can see cars passing on the streets. Someone is out walking their dogs. A few more people are strolling about with their arms full of liquor bottles. Right in front of the building, there’s a middle-aged man with a small food truck. The smell of tokbokki wafts all the way up to you on the fourth floor, and it makes you a little hungry.
“You know Namjoon didn’t mean anything bad,” you sigh.
“Yeah.” Jungkook looks down at the ground and kicks at a fallen leaf from a plant. “But did he have to talk to me like I’m a child? Like I don’t know any better?”
“Don’t be too hard on him.” Your hand comes up to rub his back soothingly. “He’s just worried.”
“Why?” he asks. “Is there something he should be worried about?”
There’s a moment where you two just look at each other. The air thickens in a way that you don’t like despite the breeze that passes by. Stars in the sky mimic the ones in his eyes, and you feel an urge to get lost in the sparkling orbs staring back at you. It’s almost maddening what you would do to get them to keep twinkling for you forever.
There’s something unfamiliar in his expression, with his lips slightly pursed and a small furrow in his brows. You dislike it even more than the tension in the atmosphere; you’ve always been able to read him like he’s your favorite book.
You break away from his eyes with a clear of your throat. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that it’s not hard to understand where he’s coming from.”
Jungkook opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but then he just settles for a hum as he turns to look at the streets again. The conversation dies at that, and you slip away again.
It’s been weird tonight, from your friends’ reactions to the way Jungkook is acting while he’s supposed to be the “mastermind” in all of this. You’ve been trying to be as normal as you can around him to not jeopardize everything you two have, and you can’t help but be a little irked at his behavior right now.
When you go back inside, Yerin pulls you to the kitchen for some privacy.
“That was some interesting news tonight,” she says, sipping on her bottle of cider as she eyes you.
You swallow and nod slowly. You’ve been expecting a Yerin talk.
“What’s your game plan here?” she asks when you don’t say anything else.
“I don’t know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance though you know you don’t have to in front of her. “There’s no game plan. I’m just going along with what he wants.”
She frowns and sets the bottle on the white marble counter. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“You always “going along” with what he wants. Always putting him before yourself. You can’t keep doing this forever.”
Like Namjoon, Yerin is just worried. You get that, and you would be the same way if you were in her shoes. 
“It’s not that simple.” Oh, but it is. “He’s my best friend.”
And there’s that excuse again. You can’t count how many times you’ve taken advantage of this title to justify your actions, your willingness to do anything for Jungkook under the guise of only being his best friend and not because you would trade the sun for his happiness for a reason far beyond that. Sometimes you think it’s pathetic.
“You could’ve told him no. He’d never force you into anything,” she says, but then her voice softens as she continues, her eyes sympathetic when they meet yours. “Are you hoping something would come out of this?”
There it is. The one question you wished she wouldn’t ask.
You avoid her gaze, preferring to train your eyes on the tiny droplets that collect outside the cider bottle instead. They roll down the side of the plastic when the moisture gets too heavy, and make a tiny pool where the bottle connects with the counter.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” you settle for eventually.
“What am I gonna say?” Yerin inquires.
“That I’m stupid, and reckless.”
“Not stupid,” she counters with a shake of her head, “but yes, I think you’re being reckless.”
“It’ll be fine,” you say with shaky finality. The words sound resolute, but underneath that shell, they’re mangled. As much as you want to believe them, you know deep down that you don’t.
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Over the next weeks, it happens again a few times. It being the kiss. A few times being five, because you’ve definitely been keeping track. Although they have technically been more like pecks than kisses, each one lasting approximately 1.2 second.
Holding hands on campus, resting your head on his shoulders when you’re sitting beside him under the old tree near one of the old university buildings—things that you’ve always been doing, but now accentuated with a smooch on the lips here and there.
Yeah, people seem to buy it.
People including Eunji.
Truth be told, you don’t think they care that much. (Perhaps with the exclusion of Jungkook’s not-so-secret admirers who glare at you every time you walk by.) You suppose that like with any other new couple on campus, after that initial Oh, cool reaction, there’s not really much thought to be had afterward. You’ve tried voicing your observation to Jungkook, but he’s adamant that this is “the way to go”, which is vague and cryptic and how he is sometimes.
You’re not sure what it means, but as always—and cue a big sigh—you go along with it. You handle it… decently. Like with everything else Jungkook does that has an effect on you, you’ve tried to build a tolerance to the occasional peck.
Every time he kisses you, you act like it’s the first time. He gives you a warning before he does it so you aren’t startled. Nevertheless, you’ve developed somewhat of a routine before each kiss so you don’t completely freak out and collapse afterward. It goes like this: Clench your jaw, inhale deeply, peck!, exhale.
Your heart constantly complains, and you more or less successfully ignore it.
Yerin and Namjoon, being Yerin and Namjoon, try to talk you out of it before someone gets hurt. You, being you—aka pathetically in love with your best friend, don’t listen.
That, and the fact that having the title of being his (fake) girlfriend makes you feel a certain way.
Maybe you can’t shit on him for being stubborn when sometimes you’re just as headstrong.
That’s why you’re at this party with the rest of the group (sans Yerin, because she doesn’t do frat parties) at one of the frat houses, holding Jungkook’s hand. The beer you’re sipping helps quell the butterflies in your stomach when he mindlessly rubs your thumb.
Suddenly, he tips his head somewhere to the right, where you see Eunji leaning against someone you assume to be the ex she recently got back together with. Jungkook quirks a brow and blinks fast at you.
“Are you having a stroke?”
He rolls his eyes and puckers his lips slightly before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Eunji is here. With the flounder! So you know….”
Your jaw tenses and you take a deep breath, not even questioning him if this is necessary anymore. Your eyelids fall as he surges forward, but to your surprise, you don’t get to exhale as quickly as you normally would.
The count remains at five. Five pecks that last a total of one second.
But there’s a new count that pops up on the chart.
Number of pecks that last a total of three seconds: 1.
When Jungkook pulls away, you swallow dryly and finally breathe out. Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly, having watched the whole exchange.
Your best friend doesn’t speak; instead he just stares at you. He doesn’t look to see if Eunji or anyone else is watching, like he usually does. He just looks at you. 
You’re hyper aware of how loud the music is and how his lips overwhelm the taste of alcohol in your mouth. How he’s still rubbing your thumb.
“I’m just gonna get another drink,” you croak the words out, and you disappear into the crowd before Jungkook can say anything.
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The kitchen is just as packed as the living room, but you needed to get away for a while. The countertops here are sticky with spilled alcohol and reeks of drunken bodies. 
You turn around when a hand taps your shoulder, and almost choke when you see who it is that’s offering you a hug.
“Oh, Nayoung, hi!” you chirp awkwardly as you accept her embrace. It’s less than graceful, but then again, you two have never really been the best of friends, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
She was Jungkook’s last serious relationship before Eunji; they were together for about nine months before calling it quits. Out of everyone he has dated, you liked her the most. She has a bubbly personality, practically the embodiment of pure sunshine, and not to mention she’s one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen.
Come to think of it, you don’t think you know why she and Jungkook split in the first place. He’s told you before that they still talk occasionally—the pair didn’t end on bad terms—but that’s about it, no details whatsoever. 
After the initial chit chat about what she’s been up to, what you’ve been up to, and the conventional commentary on the state of the party, Nayoung goes right into what you hoped she wouldn’t.
“I heard you’re dating Kook now,” she says after taking a sip of beer.
You fiddle with the cup in your hand and smile sheepishly at her. “Yeah, it just sort of happened…”
“I’m really happy for you.” A smile blooms on her lips, and you can tell that it’s genuine. “I’m glad he finally stepped up.”
The liquid in your cup sloshes slightly as you tighten your grip on the plastic. You stare at Nayoung, and you’re about to ask her what she means by that when someone spots her and calls her name loudly.
“Soyeon!” she squeals back at the other girl before turning to you. “I have to go say hi to her. But it was nice running into you. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
With that, she leaves, and you’re left standing in the kitchen with a bunch of people you don’t know and cheap beer you don’t like. Nonetheless, you pour more of the alcohol into your cup, stuff your mouth with a couple of potato chips and head back to find your friends.
Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook are nowhere in sight, but you spy Yoongi standing in the corner with a drink of his own, looking bored as usual and watching the drunks near him wobble until they collapse onto the couch. 
You open your mouth to ask him where the others are, but you hear their voices before the question can come out. You peek over Yoongi’s shoulders to scan for them, and find Namjoon and Jungkook standing a few feet from where you are, with the latter wearing an annoyed expression on his face.
“How many times do I have to tell you? We're best friends. The best of besties,” Jungkook says, his tone more defensive than Namjoon thinks it should be. “I don’t even see her as a girl.”
Your feet cement themselves to the floor as you stand there, holding the red plastic in your hand and trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. Yoongi looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He just offers you a sympathetic smile and you wonder if he knows. 
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You’ve been more distant since the night of the party, and Jungkook is willing to admit that it affects him in ways he doesn’t like. There’s something different about your dynamic that he senses, and he resents the fact that it doesn’t feel the same as it used to.
The cafe that he normally frequents is quieter than usual for a Saturday afternoon, and it does very little to distract him from the disturbance that’s afflicting his mind. Besides him and Taehyung sitting in their regular booth with their sketchbooks in front of them, there’s barely five other patrons in the coffee shop.
Every so often, Jungkook huffs and puffs, and it’s starting to annoy his friend.
“Okay, what’s up with you today, dude?”
“What?” Jungkook glances up from his journal and pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Taehyung comments, sipping from his coffee and looking at the other man over the rim of the glass. “Is it about Y/N?”
“Why would it be about her?”
“I don’t know. You seem pretty… distracted lately. Trouble in fake paradise?”
Lead skids on paper and Jungkook’s movements come to a stop. His gargantuan eyes blink at Taehyung, who only shrugs and stares back.
“Why do you and Namjoon hyung keep nagging me about this?”
“I don’t know,” Taehyung repeats, and irritation begins to crawl up Jungkook’s spine. “If I were you and I had a best friend whom I kiss all the time, I don’t think I’d be able to keep things strictly platonic, you know?”
What is he trying to get at here? Jungkook was planning to come over to your dorm tonight for a one-on-one hangout, but now, he’s just gonna be in his head about what his friend is saying.
“Not all the time. Sometimes,” the younger man corrects. “And it’s not that big a deal. Just leave it alone.”
“I mean–”
“Taehyung.”
If another person were to insinuate something along these lines to him, he might actually get into a fight. Taehyung and Namjoon aren’t the first ones to do it, and frankly, Jungkook is getting tired of it.
People keep implying that there’s something going on between you and him when in reality, you’re his best friend and that’s it. But everyone just goes on wanting to uproot his entire life by trying to unravel his relationship with you.
You two have been this way since forever. It’s not that deep.
Jungkook sits in silence across from Taehyung for a long while after that, each of them working on their respective drawings while the cafe continues to be mostly empty. 
He doesn’t notice when Taehyung stands up and makes his way to the other side of the booth to peek at his sketchbook. He’s just been mindlessly moving his pencil for the past hour; he does that sometimes, where he just lets his brain go rampant and his fingers glide through the paper seamlessly. Most of these times, he doesn’t have a specific vision in mind, and they often turn out to be some of the best works he’s ever drawn. 
“Dude,” Taehyung almost gasps as he leans over the younger’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, really, how his mouth hangs open and his eyes widen.
Jungkook’s fingers halt, his eyes refocusing and taking in what his friend is looking at. 
He gulps but his throat is dry, hastily closing the journal and stuffing it in his backpack. The chair scrapes loudly against the cafe’s wooden floors when he abruptly stands up, turning a couple of heads nearby. Taehyung calls after him but he’s already walking away, unable to stifle the restless feeling that gnaws on his guts.
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Knock, knock, knock.
Hmm? You aren’t expecting anyone, are you?
When you open the door, the person standing on the other side of the threshold makes your heart leap to your throat.
He… knocks now?
“Koo,” you breathe, clearly surprised to see him. Or maybe you’re surprised at his unexpectedly good manner.
“‘Sup, dude?” He brushes past you into the room in that typical Jungkook fashion. “We haven’t hung out in forever.”
He’s carrying two paper bags that he holds up for you to see. When you lean closer to inspect them, it’s all of your favorites from the diner nearby. The scent emanating from the bags immediately makes your stomach growl.
“The last time you saw me was two days ago,” you say.
“Yeah, on campus. We haven’t properly hung out in weeks.”
“You’re so clingy, and needy.”
“I know you meant full offense when you said that, but none taken.” After setting up the food neatly on the floor, Jungkook goes to wash his hands in the bathroom. When he returns, he looks you straight in the eye. There’s that expression again, the one he wore on the balcony of Namjoon and Yerin’s apartment. “I’m only clingy with you.”
You wonder if he notices that you’ve been pulling away these past few days, though you can’t say that you’ve been distant. You just haven’t seen him everyday like you used to, and you’ve chalked it up to an overload of schoolwork which isn’t untrue.
As you begin to dig into the food he brought over, you can tell that he’s trying. To do what exactly, you don’t know, but you appreciate the effort anyhow. It’s not his fault that things feel weird between you. 
Once everything has been devoured and your bellies are stuffed, you do what you always do. He brings your laptop from the desk and plops onto the bed next to you. By this point, you’re no longer surprised nor annoyed when he puts on a Spiderman movie for the umpteenth time. The film starts, and the familiar superhero in red and blue takes over your entire screen. But there’s something different now.
You’ve been sharing a bed with Jungkook since middle school; you’re used to this.
No. Correction: you’re used to comfortably sharing a bed with him. This, right here? This isn’t it. When did things start to change between the two of you?
Oh, you know. When you crossed that line of no return.
You lie there on the soft mattress and against the plushness of the pillows, but your body is stiff. If Jungkook is going through the same thing as you, he doesn’t let it show.
“Why are you so far away? Come here,” he says, and practically yanks you toward him until his arm is wrapped snugly around your shoulders. You’re still rigid against him and you think he notices it, because he starts to rub soothing circles into your skin. It works a little.
Halfway into the movie, you sag against his body. After a few minutes, he glances down at you and chuckles to himself when he spies your slightly open mouth as you calmly snooze.
See, Jungkook thinks, fucking Kim Taehyung and his nosy ass. This is fine.
His eyes roam your face and he realizes that he’s never seen you like this before, not really. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his keeper and his soulmate, if soulmates do exist. Before you’re any of those things, he has found you pretty since you were little kids. Since the second grade to be exact, after you shared your first kiss and you suddenly burst out crying because “boys have cooties”. When your entire face was flushed red, your eyes wet with tears that rolled down your cheeks and even snot running from your nose, there was only one word that popped into little 7-year-old Jungkook’s head. Pretty.
Maybe that’s why he tells people that you were his first kiss. Even though you were mere children, there’s some pride in boasting about sharing that experience with someone he thought was the prettiest girl in the world.
If he were to say it out loud, you would argue that it’s reductive to think that way, but you would blush nevertheless. You tend to do that whenever he compliments you. You hide it but he always notices.
Raising a hand to ghost over your cheek, he smiles when he remembers how you always say it’s unfair that he was blessed with such long eyelashes while yours barely kiss the top of your cheeks.
Slender fingers follow the bridge of your nose and brush back the curtain of hair that falls over the side of your face, covering your jawline. When you hum in your sleep and instinctively snuggle closer into his warmth and feather-light touches, his focus shifts to something that he probably shouldn’t be dwelling on.
Jungkook isn’t in primary school anymore; believe it or not, he’s an adult now. He doesn’t just think you’re pretty anymore, he knows you’re beautiful. But if he can see that, then so can others, and the thought of it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 
He feels like a creep, staring at you like this when you’re far away in dreamland, unaware of all the things running through his mind. It discombobulates him even more so when he can’t help but trace your lips with his thumb, gulping when he finds how soft they are, how lusciously pink they are. Must be from the lipbalm you always tell him he should use. Strawberry, was it? Maybe he should confirm that.
Every time that he’s kissed you thus far has been fleeting—barely even three seconds—and strictly for “business” purposes if you will. Trickery, put on for others to see.
But as he lies here with you cuddled up against him, Jungkook wants to shake you awake. Rouse you from slumber and kiss you until you’re breathless and clutching his arm in search of air. It would be so easy to do too, just a little nudge…
When you unconsciously clear your throat, Jungkook retracts his hand like he’s been burned. Fuck, what was that? he thinks. His entire chest rattles with the impact of his thoughts, and the realization that he can’t snap out of that daze. The urge to kiss you lingers like sweet petrichor after a rain shower. With a mind in overdrive and a heart that won’t calm down, he clenches and unclenches his fist, tries to take steady breaths, and fails to repress more thoughts about your lips. Meanwhile you’re right there, with barely any space between your bodies, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.
Glancing at the journal that spills out of his backpack from where it lays on the floor, he gulps as his conversation with Taehyung echoes in the background. 
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The next week is more or less the same. You keep maintaining some semblance of distance between you and Jungkook, in that you try to limit your time alone with him. He still walks you home from class—gotta keep up the charade, right?—and you still hang out as a group with all your other friends. But other than that, you’ve been making excuses to not have him over as much anymore.
It’s particularly hot today, considering autumn is starting to settle in and you’ve begun to bring out your warmer clothes. Must be summer saying its final goodbye.
You’re with your best friend on the way from your evening philosophy class back to your room. His pinky is hooked around your own, your hands swinging back and forth between your bodies as you relish in the last of the heat. 
From the corner of your eye, you spy the familiar glow of green neon lights.
“Hey, let’s go there. I need–”
Silenced. 
You flatline for a moment before you’re fully aware of what’s happening.
Jungkook’s mouth is suddenly on your mouth, his arm is encircling your waist; it’s been a few seconds and he isn’t pulling away. Instead, his lips are slowly moving and you find that yours are too. You let your eyelids fall as your hands grip the fabric of his shirt. 
Your heart restarts and shifts into full gear every time his lips slot perfectly against yours. The taste of him is devastating, to say the least. You feel his other hand sneak up to cup your cheek and when he swipes his tongue your bottom lip, you gladly part way for him.
His arm tightens around you, effectively pulling you closer. A whimper escapes from your throat, muffled by his mouth, as his tongue dances with yours. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. The fantasies explode in your brain like fireworks and this time, you get your answer.
When some guy on a bike breezes by and whistles loudly, you break away with heavy pants. Still mesmerized by his lips, you blink in a daze and swallow thickly.
“I, uh…” you mumble weakly. If Jungkook isn’t still wrapped around your body, you’re sure you would just fall to the ground. You want to keep kissing him, and you want to cry for some reason.
Your mind is still in shambles from the impact of his actions and in that moment, you forget that he isn’t yours to keep. Ignorance really is bliss, even if it’s only fleeting.
Alas, reality comes crashing down and the air gets knocked out of your lungs for a completely different reason. It’s similar to that feeling you get when you’re dreaming, and you’re falling, and the world shakes you into wakefulness.
He whips his head around and scans your surroundings for a few seconds before turning back to you with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I saw Eunji. What were you gonna say?”
He seems unfazed, and the pieces inside of you fracture even more. The shards pierce everything they could find, like glass in your bloodstream.
Jungkook is stubborn, and childish, and selfish at times, and all of that leads to the thing that you hate most about him: Jungkook can be casually cruel.
You bite down on the inside of your cheek until the taste of him is replaced with something metallic. You point limply at the convenience store around the corner, trying to repress the burning sensation behind your eyes.
“Pads… I need to buy pads.”
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He’s gone on many period supply runs for you before, so he’s very well versed in the type of pads you usually get and the roster of comfort snacks you need during that time of the month, which is not to be confused with what gets selected for The Stash.
Whenever Aunt Flow visits, Jungkook always makes sure that you have an array of your favorite chocolates, gummies, and that Honey Stars cereal you like to munch on. Sometimes, if he can afford to splurge a little more that month, he gets you a boba a day to help you cruise through the discomfort.
Your period is the only occasion where he tries to be less of a menace to you, partly because he knows how much you hate going through it, but mainly because you’re ten times more irritable and won’t hesitate to choke him with your bare hands. (This may or may not have happened once or twice.)
Today though, you seem distracted as you browse the aisles. Your hand grabs a packet of pads and you move quickly through the store. It isn’t the one that you normally use, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe you’re trying out different things, who knows? Jungkook isn’t one to tell you how you conduct your business down there.
However, you completely pass by the chocolate shelves without even looking at them. It makes him frown, and he has to linger behind to grab the sweets before catching up with you and dropping them in your little basket. When you sense the extra weight in your grip, you send him an appreciative but uneasy smile, and his stomach immediately drops.
It was the kiss, wasn’t it?
Fuck. Did he make things weird?
You spend most of the shopping trip in silence, and it extends to the walk to your dorm too, excluding the few instances where he makes a silly comment about the mundane things you see on the way home, but you merely hum in acknowledgement.
“Dude,” Jungkook says when the two of you stop in front of your building, “you know I love you right?”
The words sound and feel strange as they come out of his mouth. Strained even to his own ears, foreign on his own tongue.
He’s suddenly nervous as he awaits your response. You’ve exchanged these words a thousand—maybe a million—times before. Not once has it felt like this.
Not once has the air been charged with such uncertainty.
You force a smile onto your face that he can see right through. “I know.” Your voice cracks a little but you immediately cover it up with a fake cough.
He’s about to ask if you want to watch a movie—one of your choosing this time—in an attempt to distill the tension, but you beat him to it with a bid of goodbye. You tell him that you’re tired and just want to sleep, and head inside.
As he stands there alone with only the flickering street lights for company, he frowns. Nerves dissipate in his stomach to make room for something else entirely. Something that sinks in his chest that’s probably not his heart.
Is it?
Either way, it doesn’t matter. What’s more important is that you didn’t say it back.
You’ve never not said it back before, no matter how upset you are with him.
You still said it back when Jungkook accidentally deleted a midterm paper on your laptop that you’d been working on for four days straight. You still said it back when he forgot that he’d promised to pick you up from class to take you dress shopping, and left you stranded in the rain with a broken umbrella for nearly an hour. Even when you had to miss a scholarship interview to take him to the emergency room for appendicitis, you still returned his sentiments.
Drunken or sober, the words still came out one way or another. You said it back every time, every single time…
But there you were, with your strained smile and hollow eyes, caging the words in and swallowing them down.
He shakes his head harshly to expel the thoughts. He looks up at your window before turning on his heels to leave. His fingertips twitch, as he recalls your afternoon together. The urge to grab a pencil and his beloved journal becomes too immense not to notice.
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In the wise words of singer-songwriter extraordinaire Tove Lo: “Wanna get over, get under.”
Well, in your case, maybe you won’t be getting under anyone. More like, “wanna get over, eat your feelings, get a date and try to forget.”
Naturally, it’s a lot easier in theory.
The first step? You’ve got it covered. The Stash has nearly been emptied out over the past few days as you make up excuse after excuse to avoid Jungkook.
The second step? You didn’t have to look any further than your cousin and the guy she keeps wanting to set you up with. 
It’s really just the third step that you’re having trouble with.
As you sit in this nice restaurant with your date, Seokjin, you find it quite challenging to focus on anything he’s saying.
He seems like a decent guy; charming, funny, not to mention tall and very handsome. Seems like the type of person you would be completely enamored with had your mind not been preoccupied by someone else.
Needless to say, the dinner isn’t going very well. You’re barely responding to any of his jokes or stories, and when he asks you about yourself, you only give him curt responses because you’re too busy thinking about another person.
You can’t remember why you thought this was a plausible idea in the first place.
You don’t notice that it’s been quiet for a few minutes while you pick at your salad and Seokjin watches awkwardly across from you. When a hand lands on your shoulder, you look up, but your date has both arms resting on the table.
A familiar voice calls your name.
“Jungkook,” you breathe as you look to your left, “what are you doing here?”
You can tell that he’s agitated; dare you say, even angry. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he barks at you, and you’re thankful that the table is hidden in the corner, where only the waiter nearby is nosy enough to pay attention to you.
Swallowing thickly, you utter, “I’m on a date.”
Jungkook is evidently unhappy with your answer, though you don’t think there’s any other explanation that he would be pleased with at the moment. He clenches his jaw so harshly that you fear it might snap from that sheer force. Turning his head slightly, he glares at the man sitting across, and his grip on your shoulder tightens.
“Your cousin said you were single,” Seokjin says frantically as his eyes dart between the two of you. You can’t blame him for jumping to conclusions. A guy showing up to your date looking pissed off as hell and you’re losing your voice like you’ve been caught in the act? Yeah, it’s fair to assume.
“I am!” You raise a hand in defense, turning away from your friend to face Seokjin. “He’s just a friend. I’m sorry, I– Jungkook!”
You can’t even finish your sentence before his hand moves to grab your wrist and yanks you to your feet. The waiter watches the scene unfold like it’s a soap opera as you get dragged out of the restaurant helplessly.
When you’re finally outside, you wrench your wrist from Jungkook’s hold but you’re still too stunned to say anything. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales in frustration.
“Get in the car,” he merely says, and surprisingly, you do without any protest.
You must have jinxed yourself back then, huh? You really thought this only happened in the movies.
The twenty-minute drive to your dorm is spent in absolute silence as he simmers in his anger while you organize the thoughts in your head, and the raging whirlpool of emotions that flood your body. After arriving at the building, you let him walk you up to your room and you let him come in. Only then do you find your voice again.
“What the fuck was that back there?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date?”
“I didn’t have to tell you,” you counter, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“But…” He opts for the childish option. “We tell each other everything.”
“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “not everything.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You’re keeping things from me?”
“No, I– You know what, just drop it. Why the fuck are you so mad? You embarrassed me tonight. You had no right to just barge in and drag me out of there like I needed to be kept on a leash.”
“I–” he struggles to find the words, and ends up settling for ones that feel like lies. “We’re supposed to be dating! What if someone saw you? What would that look like for me?”
Even if he meant it, it’s a weak argument and he knows it. The restaurant was far enough from campus that the possibility of being recognized by anyone from school was extremely limited.
“That’s what this is about again?” you scoff bitterly. “Your pride? Your precious little reputation? You’ve been using me for months and I let you–”
“I didn’t use you,” he interrupts.
“Didn’t you?” He stays silent after this, and you feel compelled to continue. “Everyone kept telling me to put an end to your shit or I’ll just eventually get hurt. But did I listen? No, of course not, because I’m stupid and because I’m too in– because I’m fucking stupid.”
“No, no, don’t backtrack. Because you’re what?”
You can’t even yell at him, unless you want the entire floor to hear and wake up tomorrow as the latest piece of gossip on campus. You can’t even weep to your heart’s content either. It’s so fucking shitty, but it’s your own damn fault anyway. What were you even expecting? There was no way you could come out of this unscathed.
“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me not to…”
He knows exactly what you’re referring to. “Not to what?”
You know he won’t let this go, and you’re not sure you have it in yourself to keep it hidden for much longer. You expected that the truth would come out some day, maybe after you’ve figured out a way to get over him and not have to deal with the repercussions of your confession.
But you’re here at that crossroad now, and you’re tired. You’re exhausted, really, from years of yearning for him in secret and trying to kill that longing but failing every time. Your heart can only take so much before it eventually cracks, and it seems like that moment has come sooner than you ever anticipated.
“You can’t expect me not to be in love with you,” you choke on a cry, “more than I already am.”
His eyes widen and his lips part, and every trace of anger from earlier drains from his face. You take a step back as he takes one forward.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” you take in a breath, and unleash your suffering. “I’ve loved you for half our lives. I would do anything for you, but… I don’t know if I can keep going like this anymore. It’s too much.”
Now that the cat is out of the bag, where do you go from here? The answer is simple: You don’t know.
So, you do the only thing you can at this moment. You sit down on the bed, put your head in your hands, and you let the tears flow freely. Your heart is in your throat, and sunken at the pit of your stomach, and lodged between your ribs all at once, because it’s in pieces and there’s nothing that can undo the damage.
Quietly sobbing in front of the boy you’ve always loved, you feel pathetic and broken, and you mourn more things than just the loss of your friendship.
This isn’t a fight.
No, this is the end of life as you know it.
The mattress dips and you immediately scoot away. He freezes, gauging your reaction and thinking if he should reach out to you. You make that decision for him before he could come to his own conclusion.
“Can you just leave?” 
Not leave now and we’ll talk when I’ve cooled off; not leave and silently come back tomorrow with my favorite dessert as a peace offering.
Just leave.
You handed him your heart without even telling him; you gave him hold the most sacred piece of you and let him toy with it without realizing what’s in his palm. Now that he knows, he has no idea what to do with it.
The door closes and it feels like something else is ending too. You and him, the most special bond you’ve ever known. The most important part in every chapter of the story of your life…
You think of the friendship that’s been the foundation of who you are, the pillar that holds you up when everything else tries to pin you down. You think of how it’s starting to come undone brick by brick right in front of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it now.
You and him against the world, but now it’s only the world against you.
See? It always implodes.
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Jungkook can be dense sometimes. Nudges don’t work on him; he needs to be pushed, shoved, and knocked some sense into before he can start to get his head straight. 
He doesn’t know why he calls Nayoung, but he does. Though it’s getting close to midnight, she picks up on the third ring. He doesn’t regard her sleepy voice and a confused hello? and goes right into it.
“Why did we break up?” he asks anxiously.
Not  a question that one might expect to hear from an ex nearly a year after the breakup, through the phone in the middle of the night. “I don’t know, you tell me,” she chuckles softly. “You’re the one who ended things.”
“I don’t know either,” Jungkook mimics her words.
Seconds pass, and Nayoung speaks up. “I’ve always thought it was because of Y/N.”
Yeah, he knew she was going to say that.
“Why?”
“I think everyone could see there was at least something there, except for the two of you. You could never really remember my favorite things as well as you did hers. At first, I told myself it was because you’d been friends for so long, and she’s important to you. But then I realized, that wasn’t really the case,” she says calmly, no bitterness in her voice at all though there she does sound sad as she recalls the past. “Sometimes I wished you would look at me the way you look at her.”
If there’s anything that Jungkook feels as he listens to his ex-girlfriend’s words, it’s guilt, and maybe a pang of remorse.
You think he doesn’t see you but he does; he sees you everywhere. You’re on his mind when that spot should be reserved for someone else. 
The night when everything went to hell and back, when he was coming to crash your date, he didn’t know what came over him. He was just so frustrated he couldn’t see straight.
As soon as he overheard Yerin and Namjoon talk about you having dinner with Seokjin, he lost all ability to be rational.
Was he upset because you didn’t tell him, or because you were with another guy?
If you had told him about the date, would it have made him feel better?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks. It’s been some months too late for that question now.
“I guess I just wanted you to myself for a while longer.”
“I’m sorry.” He means it.
“Don’t be.” She understands. “You didn’t know.”
It’s scary when people keep tugging at the rug he’s standing on. 
When the line is silent for a beat too long, Nayoung takes the initiative. It’s like she can sense that Jungkook’s affliction even through the phone, can picture how the cogs in his head are turning until they bring you to the conclusion that everyone around him has known for years.
“I knew we couldn’t have lasted long,” she says, hoping it’ll give him some comfort. “That’s why when we broke up, I said I hoped you’d work things out with her. You didn’t understand it back then, did you? I’m glad you do now.”
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There’s a lot of things about you that are ingrained into Jungkook’s mind, like how you like to watch horror gameplays because you think the gamers’ reactions are funny sometimes and because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to actually play the games.
You like your eggs with runny yolks and lots of pepper; it can be annoying every time you grumble at him for breaking your yolk whenever he makes you breakfast. You’re very particular about your hair and don’t like it when anyone touches or plays with it. 
You’ve developed a newfound love for eBooks because they let you highlight quotes you like and post them on Instagram for pretentious purposes. You like to vacuum but hate washing dishes, which is good because Jungkook doesn’t mind it.
Other than a stuffed koala, you have two other plushies that you still sleep with—a bunny and a duck. Jungkook got you the bunny on your 17th birthday while he was taking you stationery shopping before the new school year. The fuzzy toy at a corner store caught your eye and you made him buy it for you; you said it looked like him and wanted to keep it with you whenever you couldn’t see each other. It’s all worn out now, and he tells you that he’ll get you a new and better one but you always refuse. This one has all the memories, you’d say, and nothing can replace that.
You took care of him when he had three wisdom teeth removed all at once; and you nurse his hangovers every time he makes the guys drop him off at your dorm after a night out, because he insists that sleeping at yours is much better than at his own place. When he wakes up in the morning with his brain mushed and pounding, he finds that your presence makes his headache a little more manageable.
He likes to hold your hand because feeling your dainty hands in his much bigger ones makes him smile for some reason. When you cuddle, he likes the softness of your hair and the scent of the hair serum you use.
Jungkook knows whenever he’s being annoying; it’s fun, he likes being a little shithead. He likes how you tolerate his antics and stupid jokes, and he likes how you would also put him in his place if he goes too far and keep him in check.
It’s in the little things. It’s in his daily routine. There’s a special box that he keeps in the center of his mind, labeled with your name, that goes with him everywhere.
He doesn’t like to think about the future; it’s a scary thought and the world can be a terrifying place sometimes. He doesn’t know what his future holds, how his life will change or where it’ll lead him; but every time his mind falls into that pit of existentialism that he dreads, you’re there.
You part the darkness like the sun. Just the thought of you brings him peace when he needs it. You understand him in ways that no one else ever could.
Because you’re his best friend.
You’ve been a part of his life for so long that somewhere along the way, he never realized it when platonic feelings grew into something more. 
Nayoung might have been the one to plant the seed, but Eunji was the catalyst. It’s ironic that none of this probably would’ve happened if Eunji hadn’t accidentally brushed up against Jungkook’s stubborn nature.
There’s a reason why he has been avoiding talking to Namjoon lately. Unlike the other men he knows at school, or any man in his life really, Namjoon sees things, and Namjoon knows how to read between the lines.
In hindsight, there’s a list of things he should’ve done differently. He shouldn’t have been so quick to shut his friends down whenever they broached the matter. He should’ve listened to their concerns; that would’ve saved him a lot of time, and he wouldn’t be sitting here alone in the darkness of his room, brooding over how stupid he’s been acting.
After that initial kiss, the spark that has kept him warm for years flared up into an inferno that torches him to his very core. Something in him shifts, like a light bulb being switched on for the very first time. He had thought about kissing you a few times before that, when he was drunk and you happened to be nearby. But after the fact, kissing you was everything that plagued his mind.
Now, Jungkook knows that’s not how friends are supposed to behave. They aren’t supposed to spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the other’s lips. They aren’t supposed to be consumed with blind jealousy at the prospect of the other with a romantic interest.  
They’re not supposed to want the other how he wants you.
This can go either way. What happens after the realization—that nothing will ever be the same again? 
The earth shatters, of course, and the world ends.
None of his relationships have ever hit the one-year mark, and even with Nayoung, he never could find it in himself to tell her he loved her. Maybe there’s a reason for that.
Maybe that reason is because the space in his heart has always been occupied.
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You’ve been replaying your last conversation with Jungkook in your head ever since it happened.
When you told Yerin about it, she didn’t say I told you so or reiterate how you should’ve listened to her in the first place. She just sat there and listened to you recant the entire story of that night. She held you and brushed your hair back as you cried. It made you feel better that she let you unburden yourself somewhat with a sobbing session, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart was still broken.
Two weeks have passed, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him. Since that night, Jungkook tried texting you numerous times, to which you didn’t reply. Most of his messages were apologies though you doubt he knew what he was apologizing for. To be honest, you’re not sure you know either. It’s not his fault, not really.
Then, he started leaving you voicemails but they still said the same things as his texts. You didn’t call him back, and it’s been a couple of days since he last tried. In the absence of any communication, you wonder if he’ll try again.
When someone knocks on your door, you expect it to be Yerin coming to check on you again even though she just came over this morning with a box of brownies that you haven’t finished yet. Instead, it’s the person you’ve been dreading and wanting to see at the same time.
“Nice,” Jungkook says, pointing to your old Mojo Jojo t-shirt that never fails to make him chuckle.
He looks like shit, eyes puffy and red like he’s been crying. You don’t reckon you look any better.
The conversation starts the same way it did the last time. “What are you doing here?”
He scratches his neck and peers at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “Can I come in?”
Your hand tightens on the doorknob in a way that he doesn’t miss, and you hesitate for a minute before you retreat back into the room, leaving the door open so he can follow. You go to sit on the bed, and he tentatively sits next to you but still cautious enough to leave some space between your bodies.
Minutes pass, and it’s silent. Neither one of you can read the other like you used to; it’s unsettling to say the least.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, his voice cuts above the tension in the room and hangs over your head like a black cloud.
This is it. This is it.
This is the part where he tells you that he loves you, but not in that way. That he only sees you as a friend; there’s nothing between you other than platonic feelings. You’ve spent all your life preparing for this moment, and yet nothing can truly ever brace your heart for what’s about to come.
“I never told you why me and Nayoung broke up,” Jungkook starts, and confusion seeps into your features. “She wanted me to meet her parents and I… I just couldn’t do it. I knew I liked her, but I couldn’t see myself taking that next step with her, or with anyone… And you know why I told Eunji that you and I wanted to try dating? She thought I’d never get my shit together and confess,” he chuckles humorlessly as he recalls the memory. “Even then I still didn’t know. I just wanted to prove that she was wrong.”
You’re not really sure why he has to drag out the act of breaking your heart. You turn to look at him. Doe eyes on the verge of tears. It makes you want to cry more than you already do.
“I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“To be honest, I don’t think I know either,” he says. “I know I should give you time, and that I’m being selfish for even being here, but I just wanted to see you.” His voice breaks at the end, and you break along with it. “I just wanted to see you.”
Your fists clench in your lap as you bite the inside of your cheek. He’s making this so hard for you, and his next words throw you in for a loop.
“I think… I think I might be in love with you.”
“Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 
Jungkook doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls out the sketchbook from his backpack and hands it to you. The leather is worn, even more so than the last time you saw it and it melts your insides just a little bit.
“Open it.”
“Jungkoo–”
“Please,” he says, his voice unsteady. “Please just open it.”
As you flip through the pages, it’s mostly sketches that you’ve seen before. 
Then, you come across a crumbled page, ripped from its home and clumsily taped back into the journal. On the page was an outline of a person, and you can only make out that it’s a figure of a girl, someone you don’t recognize for the lack of details. Anyone can tell that he doesn’t get a lot of practice when it comes to drawing people.
But you do recognize the surroundings, drawn much more intricately, and you realize it’s the beach you went to two summers ago. 
Over the next few pages, it’s still the same outline, still the same girl only in different settings, but ones that you’re all too familiar with.
The figure gets more detailed the more you go through his sketchbook, and by the time you’ve reached the latest addition, it’s clear who the girl is supposed to be.
It’s you.
You at the local flea market; you at the campus cafe, hunched over a notebook and an iced latte; you in his hometown where you visit his parents every once in a while.
And… you, that day Jungkook kissed you, with the convenience store in the background, near the corner of the page. The girl in the drawing is much more beautiful than you think you could ever be.
When a teardrop lands on the paper, you realize you’ve been crying. He’s beside you now, having shuffled closer while you were too immersed in the journal. His arm brushes yours, and when you turn to him, you see that he’s crying too.
“That day,” he starts, fingers ghosting over the sketch of you, “I lied to you about seeing Eunji. I just wanted to kiss you, but I was a coward, and I was scared of having thoughts about you that friends shouldn’t have about each other.”
You wipe away the tears from his cheek and he instantly leans into your touch. His lips wobble slightly as you look at each other; everything unsaid now out in the open, settling in between the two of you, waiting for someone to make the next move.
“Jungkook…”
“If you want me to leave, I will,” he whispers, sniffling and holding onto your wrist. “Do you want me to leave?”
You don’t know what to say other than no. 
“I’m sorry… for not realizing it sooner.”
You give him a teary smile. “It’s okay,” you say, though it hasn’t been okay. You’ve been miserable these last two weeks, and every so often these past years of your life. 
Old habits die hard; you always want to appease him. But if there’s ever a good time to forgive him for all of it, you think it might as well be now.
His gaze drops to your mouth, making your heart speed up as you wait for him. A shaky hand cups your face like if his fingers brush your cheek the wrong way, it might undo all the progress he’s made. 
Jungkook visibly gulps as he leans closer, his breath fanning your mouth softly until he finally presses his lips to yours.
Kindred spirits meeting each other for the first time again.
The count resets to 1. None of the kisses you’ve had before mean anything; the only ones that matter are ones that you share from now on.
When your lungs burn, he pulls away and chuckles breathlessly. His eyes are still glassy from tears, and it only emphasizes the galaxy that resides in them, an entire cosmos in those chocolate eyes that calls out your name with every twinkle of light.
You go in for another kiss, and another one, and another one… until your hearts start to feel a little fuller and the ache gradually becomes a distant memory,
Gloomy days where you know the sun is hiding behind that thick curtain of clouds but just won’t come out. 
The clouds part and golden sunlight starts to peek through. It’s brighter than anything he’s seen before but he thinks he’ll manage just fine.
He’s got his best friend right by his side.
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“It’s for real this time?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook skeptically. “You’re not fucking with me?”
“Yes, Tae, it’s real.” The younger man rolls his eyes but smiles as he utters the words.
You’re in Yerin’s bedroom, helping with each other’s hair and makeup for a university dinner that you’re all going to tonight, while the guys wait in the living room, having already donned their suits.
Taehyung throws his head back and groans in frustration as he reaches into his pocket. Jungkook opens his mouth, about to ask what’s with the reaction to his good news, but stops when he notices a wild Yoongi appear with his palm open.
Taehyung pulls out his wallet and slaps a few bills onto the awaiting hand, which quickly snatches them up as Yoongi scuttles back to his seat with a grin.
Jungkook frowns. “What was that?”
“We had a bet,” Taehyung grumbles, taking a cookie on the coffee table and throwing it into his mouth. As he chews and talks, chocolate chip crumbs fall onto his dress shirt. “On whether or not you would step up and confess.”
Jungkook’s frown deepens even further as he looks between his friends. At this point, he really shouldn’t be surprised that literally everyone but him has known all along. “Wha– Wait, you betted against me?”
“Man, I love you, and trust me when I say I was rooting for you, but your head was so far up your ass, it didn’t look like you were ever getting out of there.”
Jungkook’s brows shoot into his forehead in disbelief and maybe betrayal too, and he has a retort ready to launch at Taehyung though he’s interrupted by the sound of a door opening, followed by heels clicking on the wooden floor. 
He isn’t allowed a chance to get a good look at you before you’re already tucking yourself into his side, with your head resting on his shoulder. Across from you, Yerin has already taken her usual spot on the couch beside Namjoon. 
There’s something twinkling in Namjoon’s eyes as he looks at Yerin, but it can’t compare to the cluster of galaxies shining in Jungkook’s as he takes you in.
“What are we talking about?” you ask, tipping your head back to look up at him.
“We,” Taehyung chimes in before Jungkook can answer, “are talking about what a dumbass your boyfriend is.”
Heat rises from your neck and further accentuates the rose-colored blush on your cheeks at the word “boyfriend”. When you try to look down and hide your face, Jungkook grabs your chin between his fingers to hold your head in place as he offers you a quick kiss, brushing off Taehyung’s teasing words because you’re right there in his arms, looking all pretty and shy. It’s not everyday that he gets to see you dolled up like this.
His sudden action makes you even more flustered though. You clear your throat and fiddle with his hand that falls from your face to your lap, while your friends watch the interaction with fond smiles.
To the outside world, to anyone who isn’t privy to the whole fiasco that happened over the past months, everything is still the same. But to your little band of thieves, everything has changed.
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That night, Jungkook takes you back to his place.
Truth be told, the prospect of having sex with him didn’t cross your mind until tonight. There was something about him in a dashing suit and his hair styled in a way that made him even more handsome than he already is, that had you clenching your thighs together during the dinner.
Jungkook knows you’re significantly less experienced than him. You’ve only had sex once before and you didn’t even finish. Not to pin the blame on the other guy though; that was your first time, it’s understandable that you couldn’t fully relax.
But now, as you lie underneath your best friend with his lips sucking on your neck and one of his hands squeezing your ass, the nerves decide to make an appearance.
You feel like a virgin again.
You’ve never really let yourself think about Jungkook and his skills in bed; it stings a little too much to imagine him sleeping with other girls even though you know he does. Sometimes Jungkook would tell you if he had a one-night stand the day before—not in detail, because you’d normally shut it down and change the topic.
Your heart hammers in your ribcage as he pulls down the straps of your bra. When he unhooks the garment and throws it to the floor, you can’t help but cross your arms over your chest and look away timidly.
He cups your cheek and turns your head to look at you. “Hey, it’s me,” he whispers. “It’s just me. You don’t have to hide from me. You never have to hide from me.”
As you gaze at him, you realize that he’s right. It’s safe there in those iridescent eyes of his. You know he means it when he promises not to jeopardize your heart ever again.
“Do you trust me?” Jungkook asks softly, fingers brushing away the hair that frames your face.
You do. Unconditionally, willingly, ardently. There’s no doubt about it now.
“Yes,” you whisper. Untangling your arms, you wrap them around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You can’t get over how soft his lips are against your own, or how it seems like you’re floating with every sound you pull from him.
When you break away for air, he trails his mouth along your jawline, your neck, your collarbone and then your chest. He takes one breast in his mouth and sucks on your nipple until it hardens against his tongue. You weave your fingers through his hair as he licks your perky bud, arching into him and moaning when he switches sides to give your other breast the same attention.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip when he releases your nipple with a wet pop! and kisses his way down the path of your stomach to your clothed heat. Your hand leaves his hair to grip the bed sheets, your heart stuttering in anticipation as he neglects your core entirely and goes to suck hickeys into your inner thighs. 
You can feel yourself get wetter with every swipe of Jungkook’s tongue on your skin, and you’re sure that he can smell your arousal even through your panties at such close proximity. 
“Please,” you beg. “I need you to do something, I need you…”
“Patience,” he tsks as he comes up to hover above you again but still keeps his hand on your thigh, fingers dancing closer to your cunt until he finally makes contact. “I’ll make you feel good.”
As he rubs you over your panties, you moan against his mouth, and he swears the sound could make him combust right then and there. 
“Jungkook…” you whimper softly, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. Your breath hitches and you look like you could cry just from this alone. God, there’s nothing he would love more than to ruin you.
His knee nudges your legs further apart as he devours your lips, his free hand palming your breast and pinching your nipple. Your panties start to become soaked, leaving his fingers a little sticky even through the lace. 
“Jungkook,” you whine again, tugging on his wrist.
“Mhmm?” He teases your clothed entrance, making you buck into his hand. “What do you want, baby?”
You might be inexperienced, but you’re definitely not a prude.
“Your–your fingers… please…”
He smirks against your mouth before pulling away to slide your underwear off your legs. He comes back to his previous position above you, kissing you and fondling your tits again. Deft digits land directly on your bare pussy, nothing to separate you from him.
He slips a finger inside, and you immediately clench at the intrusion.
“Relax for me,” Jungkook coos and rubs your clit with his thumb to help you loosen up. It feels nice though the discomfort is still there, and you know the more you focus on trying to ease into it, the more it backfires.
“That’s easier said than done,” you breathe, holding onto his wrist as he continues to pump into you. His lips find your chest and he sucks a tit harshly into his mouth. He can tell how much you like it from the wetness that gushes out of you, and he grants you another finger.
“Feel good?” he purrs, alternating between licking and biting your nipple.
You buck your hips to meet his fingers and cry out with every thrust of his hand. “So… so good…”
He scissors your pussy open and revels in the wet squelches in the air. It sends blood rushing straight to his cock, which strains uncomfortably in his boxers.
“Can you take one more?” he asks, mouth hot against your breast.
“I think so,” you moan, surprisingly excited to be stuffed with his fingers. Jungkook continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple as he pushes another digit inside your heat. “Nghhh…”
It’s a bit tight at first, but your body obeys him after a few thrusts; your walls stretch to comfortably suck his fingers in.
You really don’t know if it usually feels this good, or if it’s just Jungkook and his hands, his mouth, everything, in particular that can make your body react like this. You’re close to floating, transcending, with his every movement.
Obscene and wet sounds fill your ears, his warm lips on your body, his slender fingers bringing you to the edge…
“I think I’m gonna cum,” you rasp out.
“Cum then. You can do it,” he whispers and trails upward to kiss your cheek. “Such a good girl. Come on…” You lose your damn mind every time his digits slide in and out, and the wet sounds of him fingering your pussy only add to the pressure in your stomach.
He curls his fingers two, three times and you’re done for. Your nails dig into his arm as you scream his name, tears spilling from your eyes. He wants to tattoo the raised tone of your voice onto his brain for rainy days, and maybe every other day in between. 
Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm and then some. When he pulls his hand away from your battered cunt, he smirks at the sight of it soaked in your essence. You watch him spread the mess you made on his fingers and put them in his mouth. Euphoria washes over you as he tastes you, moaning while he does so.
If he can make you cry with just his fingers, he can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when you cream all over his cock.
He might not have been your first time but he’s the first person to ever make you cum, and that’s an even better honor for him.
He leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to let you taste yourself. “Mhmm,” you moan and pull him closer until you feel his cock against your thigh, hard and heavy. When you palm him over his underwear, he gasps into your mouth, and you feel a small wet patch from where his precum stains his boxers. 
“I want you…” you whisper languidly and grip him tighter.
“You have me,” he reassures, though it’s not exactly what you meant. He kisses you once more before sitting up to remove his last article of clothing. His cock, angry and leaking, slaps against his abs and you can’t help but bite your lip.
You’ve only seen and had one dick before, but even you know that Jungkook’s would be categorized as how-the-actual-fuck-will-it-fit big.
He fists his length and gives it a few pumps, smirking when he finds your eyes trained on his hand and its movements, bottom lip between your teeth while you’re still spread out for him. Your pussy drips onto his sheets from renewed arousal.
He turns away from you to grab a condom from his wallet on the floor, tears into the foil to take out the rubber and rolls it over his shaft.
“You ready?” he asks as he guides the tip to your slit, rubbing it against your folds to collect more wetness so he can slide in easier. Jungkook teases you a little, nudging your clit with his cock and relishing in the tiny moan you let slip out.
“Fuck me,” you say softly. It feels unreal to hear you—his best friend—utter these words to him. “Ah…” you mewl when he pushes in. Despite having been stretched by three of his fingers, his cock is a little too much for you.
He makes it about halfway in before he stills, waiting for you to open up. “It’s just me,” he repeats his sentiments from earlier and kisses you, hoping that it’ll help you relax and take him in completely.
It does work, sort of. Your pussy swallows a couple more inches of his length but he still can’t bottom out in this position. He tries fucking you like this, maybe your walls will stretch out more once you get into it but as soon as your brows knit in evident discomfort, he stops entirely.
“Am I hurting you?” His voice is rushed, worried. “Do you want to stop?”
“No! No, I– I want to keep going. It’s just…”
You huff out a breath in frustration, and Jungkook sees right through you, on the verge of blaming yourself and your body for something that isn’t your fault.
“Let me try something,” he says and pecks your lips again. He pulls out of you carefully and sits back against the headboard as he helps you climb on top of him. “Might make it easier.”
He holds your hips as you hover over his cock; the tip circles your entrance and you moan lowly, your hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself.
You sink down on him slowly, letting out shaky breaths until you’ve completely taken everything in. He rubs your hips soothingly as your walls stretch around his shaft.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek.
You shake your head and lean into his touch. “No, I just need a minute.”
“Okay.”
After a moment passes, Jungkook watches you reach for his hand and guide it toward your bundle of nerves, silently asking him to play with your clit while your pussy readies itself for him, and fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he has seen anyone do. You moan when his thumb rubs figure eights into your swollen bud, your hips starting to move on their own accord to seek pleasure.
Bracing your hands on his chest, you lift your body experimentally from his cock and sink down again, making the both of you moan at the feeling of him gliding along your velvety walls with more ease.
The position is a little awkward because you don’t exactly know how to move on top of him. 
“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “Go at your own pace.”
Though your rhythm is a bit off, you do it again, and again, and again, until you’re a moaning mess on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock while he watches, absolutely mesmerized by you. Breathless cries slip from your lips as Jungkook continues to stimulate your clit, your tits slightly jiggling with every movement, your eyes rolling back in bliss and he hasn’t even begun to do anything yet.
Fuck. He really needs to ruin you.
He presses his hips to yours to keep his dick from slipping out of you as he flips the both of you over. You look so pretty pinned underneath him like this that he twitches and grows even harder inside you.
“I want…” he trails off and gulps, looking for words as you stare at him quizzically, your walls unintentionally clenching around him. “I want to wreck your pretty little pussy. I want to fuck you so hard, you’ll be feeling me for days. Will you let me do that, hmm? Can I show you how much I love you?”
Hearing his crude words, you almost go into cardiac arrest. The way he’s looking at you could puncture your skin; his eyes darken with unfiltered lust that it turns you on unbelievably more. “Yes, please…” You nod, eager to have him prove to you that he means it.
Jungkook pulls back until just the tip is in you before he plunges forward, making you choke on a moan and your eyes roll back into your head.
It starts out slow at first; he wants to make sure that you’re fully ready for him before he picks up the pace. When you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer and raise your hips to meet his thrusts, he begins to settle into a faster rhythm, fucking into you with heightened desire and desperation. 
“Oh, fuck,” he drawls. “You feel so good.”
“Jungkook ah…”
Your eyes screw shut as you let the intense pleasure take over your entire body. The room fills up with your wanton moans and sinful sounds of skin slapping.
“Fuck me. Would you look at that?” He sounds like he’s whispering to himself, but you open your eyes to see what he’s talking about anyway.
Jungkook’s eyes are transfixed on the sight of his cock in your pussy, glistening with your juices every time he pulls out and gets even wetter every time he dives back in.
While he’s focused on that, there’s something else that catches your attention.
Your hand slides across your body and comes to a stop at your stomach. “Jungkook,” you stutter when he delivers a particular hard thrust and you clench around him. “You’re so big…”
He trails his eyes up to where your hand is, and his mind immediately blanks. 
No thoughts, head empty.
Knock knock, is anybody home?
“Fuck,” he grunts out, “fuck!”
Your stomach bulges with the faint outline of his cock as he pounds you into the mattress. He covers your hand with his own and slightly presses down on it, savoring the gasp that escapes from you.
You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he thoroughly fucks you and your cunt swallows up what he gives you.
“Please,” you rasp out, “harder…”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He doesn’t give you time to respond, though if he did, you don’t think your brain could come up with any coherent sentences right now. He caresses your belly to let both of you feel his cock driving into you before his hand slips down to rub your clit. Jungkook slants his mouth over yours to swallow your surprised moan, and you feel dizzy all of a sudden.
Is this what coming home feels like? The yearning, the longing, the wanting but never having… it’s been years, it’s all you can remember. But now that it’s finally happening, you can’t find it in yourself to believe in the reality of it.
Jungkook loves you, in the way that you’ve always wanted him to. He’s here—he’s really here—taking this leap with you and no amount of gratitude toward the universe will ever be enough to convey how euphoric you feel—body and soul—in this moment. 
You call out his name breathlessly, your walls fluttering around his cock as you hold onto his biceps. “I–I’m…” Your cheeks are stained with overflowing tears; the pleasure sending you into overdrive as you sob out brokenly.
“I know, I can feel it,” he murmurs. “Cum for me, baby, hmm? I love you… Love you so much…”
He flicks your clit as he fucks you harder, faster than before, his thick cock repeatedly nudging your G-spot. He keeps the pace until you’re practically writhing in his arms, his name falling from your lips like a mantra and stars exploding behind your eyes.
Your juices soak his cock as Jungkook continues to fuck you, to help you ride out your high and chase his own. You’re still whimpering even after you’ve come down, and all he can think about is how he would give you the moon if you asked.
“Koo…” You bring your hands up to push back the sweat-slicked hair from his handsome face and pull him down for a sloppy kiss. Your tongue plays with his while he’s still toying with your clit. “Cum for me,” you whisper against his mouth. “Wanna see you cum for me…”
If he were to die right this second, he thinks it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.
You’re so wet, and tight, and warm. He feels your pussy pulsate and throb around him and he wishes that there wasn’t a fucking condom in the way.
One more thrust, two more… and his hips are stuttering as he shoots into the condom. His mouth hangs open with whispers of your name and his eyebrows are knitted in pure bliss; he’s so fucking beautiful like this that you can’t help but squeeze your cunt around him. He seems to like it, so you do it again, hoping to prolong his pleasure. “Fuck, baby…” 
Silence overwhelms the space around you now that you’re both still, basking in a post-orgasmic haze. You look at him with a lazy grin that he returns, and he tilts his head adorably as he wipes away the remainder of your tears.
Yeah, this must be what coming home feels like.
His tender eyes gazing down at you, his contented smile blooming just for you, his heart beating in tandem with yours… Jungkook is the safest place you know.
Even if being a shithead is inherent to who he is as a person. Even if he believes there’s a divine power in the banana milk at the local convenience store. Even if he has no regard for your stash of emergency snacks. Even then, he’s your person.
Even then, he’s your home.
It’s been a long time coming.
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— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted july 17, 2022]
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kimtaegis · 29 days ago
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dream in green
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caelesjjk · 2 months ago
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blueberry haze | jjk
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⟶title: blueberry haze
⟶ au: strangers to lovers
⟶ trope: one night stand
⟶ pairing: drummer!jungkook x f. reader
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ genre: smut
⟶wc: 6.6k
⟶warnings: little bit of dom!jk, mentions of drug use (marijuana), smut in the forms of: some breath play, choking, oral ( m & f receiving), lots of praise, some bondage type things, touch denial, unprotected sex (don’t do this, be smart)
⟶ summary: he had been eye fucking you from the stage all night. but you never expected anything to come of it. but when you run into the beautiful blue haired drummer after the show, you decide to let him show you some of his other talents.
⟶ authors note: this was supposed to be a quick little thing but you see where that’s ended up lol. This is some very self indulgent smut yall, not much plot for real. But it’s blueberry koo, and he’s my fav. Hope you enjoy, and as always send the feedback my way!
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What was his deal?
The ridiculously good looking, blue haired drummer on stage was looking right at you. And he had been most of the night. You couldn’t help but stare back at him, it was impossible not to.
“He’s eye fucking you.” Your friend said into your ear as the band came back on stage for their finale.
“Is not.” But you knew he was. He was looking at you again already as he sat down on the stool behind his drum kit.
Big, veiny biceps gripped the drumsticks in his hands, slinging them around between his fingers effortlessly. You watched as he pushed the blue hair off of his forehead once more before the song started and he became immersed in the music. He was a sight to see.
“Whatever you say.” Your friend teased and you elbowed her side in hopes of making her shut up while you enjoyed the last song of the night.
Any small ounce of hope you had that the sexy drummer was going to pull you backstage after the show was quickly doused when the lights came on and the venue staff was ushering everyone outside. You wanted to punch yourself for even thinking it was a possibility. He was somewhat famous. He could have whoever he wanted, why on earth would he want you?
“I’m far too tired for any parties.” You tell your friend who has been tirelessly trying to convince you to go to the bars downtown. “You should call Mina or Cher, I’m sure they’re already there.” She pouts but finally agrees to let you head home to sulk.
You pull your jacket a little tighter around your body as you walk past some shops and restaurants. They’re all mostly closed at this point in the night, but some of the displays in the windows are comforting to see.
Dexters Diner comes into view just up ahead, the yellow lights on top flicker in and out as you get closer to the small building. You could suddenly smell coffee drifting into your nostrils, and without a second thought, your hand is on the door handle of the diner, pulling it open.
There’s hardly anyone inside. A few tables of rowdy drunks from the bars and a few night shift workers having their first meal of the day. You smile at the older woman behind the front counter who’s wearing a pikachu tshirt and her hair in braids.
“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” She says as you sit down on one of the stools.
“Coffee. And maybe one of those cinnamon rolls from the case, please?” You take off your coat when she nods and heads off to gather your order.
This is just what you needed to wind down. And in most cases coffee would do the opposite, but you know the warmth of it will make you sleepy in no time.
You smile again when she sets down the chipped coffee cup and oversized cinnamon roll in front of you. The two things together smell like absolute heaven. You breathe it all in once more before picking up the cinnamon roll and bringing it to your mouth for the biggest bite you can manage.
“What are the odds?” A voice says behind you, making you freeze mid-bite. You turn around, cinnamon roll still in your mouth to face the voice.
Oh no. Please no.
Blue haired drummer boy is standing right in front of you in all his beautiful glory.
“H-hi.” You mumble, realizing you have the huge cinnamon roll in your mouth, your eyes shoot open wide and you quickly scramble to turn back and sit the pastry on its plate and wipe your mouth.
“You’re adorable.” He says, his hand gently touching your shoulder and turning you back around to face him. “Didn’t think I was going to see you again.”
“Here I am.” You say stupidly, internally facepalming.
“Here you are.” He smiles and tilts his head curiously. “I’m Jungkook. What’s your name, cinnamon roll?”
“It’s _____. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.” You can’t believe this is actually happening.
“How’s the coffee?” He asks, sitting down on the stool next to you.
“Good I think. I haven’t actually drank it yet.” You turn back to face the counter, taking the coffee cup in your hands.
“Don’t let me stop you.” Jungkook slides his leather jacket off his shoulders, revealing a clean white shirt underneath, the sleeve of tattoos looking so stark against the white of the shirt.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you started talking to rockstar Jungkook, but it wasn’t this. The conversation was flowing so nicely. He was surprisingly funny and full of all kinds of useless facts. The kind that were so ridiculous that they were interesting. He seemed sweet surprisingly…sweet.
“Did you know it takes 700 grapes to make just one bottle of wine?” Jungkook says, popping a grape into his mouth from the fruit bowl he had ordered.
“You don’t say?” You start to laugh, but then feel one of Jungkook's feet rub against yours. Was he playing footsie with you?
You take the hint, crossing your legs and letting your foot glide up the side of his calf. You can tell he’s pretending not to notice, but the tattooed hand that was resting on the countertop is now ghosting over your own calf.
“Did you know a group of bunnies is called a fluffle?” Jungkook lets just his finger tips softly run over your knee.
“That doesn’t seem true.” It barely comes out a whisper. Your thighs squeeze together as he continues his touches.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks after he notices the change in your voice. You look at him blankly for a moment before responding.
“Y-yeah. I mean sure, what do you have in mind?” You sit down your coffee cup with a shaky hand. Jungkook stands up from his seat, then leans down to cage you against the counter, his mouth coming to your ear.
“Each and every thought I’ve had about you since the moment I saw you in the crowd tonight, have been completely improper. And I would very much like to take you to my hotel room so I can show you what I’ve been thinking.” His words melt into your skin and find their way directly between your legs where they start a burning need.
“Okay.” Is all you can manage to say, eyes fluttering closed when you feel his tongue brush the shell of your ear.
“Good girl.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, thousands of goosebumps blanketing your skin in an instant. “Let me grab my stuff and we can head out.”
The jeans he’s wearing must have been painted on and he could not possibly be wearing any underwear with them, which was breath stealing all on its own.
“Jesus Christ.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, but of course he heard you.
“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help the ridiculous giggle that escapes you.
“I’ve had worse views.” You try to play it cool, taking another drink of the coffee that was lukewarm at this point. Jungkook laughs, then pulls his sweaty blue hair up into a messy bun on the back of his head. It should not be legal to be this hot.
“Come on then pretty girl, I’ve got other views to show you.” He quickly puts on his jacket and offers you his hand. You let him help you up and into your jacket as well.
There’s a sleek black car waiting around the backside of the diner and the two of you slide into the back seat. You aren’t sure what to do, so you reach for your seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook reaches across you to stop your hand, suddenly in your space.
“Buckling my seatbelt? You know…safety.” You let him take your hand off of the seatbelt while he laughs.
“You’re adorable.” His eyes hold yours while his hand slips onto your thigh, gripping it tightly so that he can then slide you across the leather seat and closer to him. “But I have other ideas for the ride home.” You hope he doesn’t see how harshly you have to swallow, your throat feeling so tight.
“What ideas?” You let one of your hands rest on his thigh, touching the frayed strings of the tears in his jeans.
“First things first.” Jungkook places his pointer finger beneath your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “Can I kiss you?”
Your cheeks heat up immediately. He’s so unexpected. He radiates that cocky rockstar vibe, but he’s also sweet enough to ask permission before he kisses you. The whiplash might be your undoing.
“Yes.” You instinctively lean forward and he meets you halfway with that angelic smile of his on his face.
His lips are too soft. Too perfect. But they mold to yours and steal the breath from your lungs. His presence engulfs you and takes over all of your senses. Right now, there’s nothing else but Jungkook.
Coffee flavored tongue swipes against your lips and you want to taste it again so badly, dipping your tongue into his mouth until he hums in satisfaction. His tattooed hand slides up your arm and onto your shoulder until it reaches your neck, his thumb sliding up and down the column of your throat.
“Tell me something, pretty girl.” His mouth stays close to yours, lips still brushing as he speaks. “How do you feel about my hand around your throat?” His words take you aback for a moment until you realize what it is he wants to do.
“I’m okay with it.” You wrap a hand around his wrist and move his fingers into place at your throat.
“You’re not so innocent, are you baby?” Jungkook smiles wickedly and swallows your reply with his mouth. Kissing you roughly, noses and lips smashing against the others, tongues licking sloppily.
Jungkook applies a bit of pressure with his hand on your throat, testing to see how much you like. It doesn’t hurt, it feels amazing. You take his wrist again pushing harder and with more pressure, his fingers tightening and gripping the skin.
“More.” You whine into his kisses until he pulls back to look into your eyes.
“You’re getting me so hard right now.” You chance a look down at his denim covered crotch, eyeing the plentiful bulge forming there.
Of course his dick was huge, there couldn’t be any flaws with this man.
Jungkook begins tightening his hand again but doesn’t kiss you again. He wants to watch your face while he controls whether you take a breath or not. You swallow, barely able to get the saliva down your throat before your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. Jungkook moans and removes his hand, his mouth immediately devouring yours as you take in a long breath.
“You’re going to be so much fun.” Jungkook kisses down your neck, paying attention to the spots where his fingers just were. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You answered too quickly, but he seems to find it amusing, smiling and pressing a kiss to your lips once more.
Your pussy is absolutely dripping. You can feel the stickiness between your legs and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are after just a little breath play. What was going to happen once he was inside you? You shiver at the thought.
The car comes to a stop around the back of one of the nicest hotels in town. You’ve never stayed here, but you know this is where important people stay all the time. You start to feel the nerves creep back in at how famous Jungkook might actually be.
Jungkook opens the car door and starts to get out but notices that you haven’t moved to do the same.
“You know, I can have the driver take you home. We can stop right now.” He slides back into the car and brings your face around to look at him. “Because if you come upstairs I’m going to ruin you. I won’t stop until I’m convinced you’ve been so thoroughly fucked that you think of me every time you even think about being with another man.”
You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a feather light kiss to your jaw.
“I don’t want to stop.” You’re barely able to muster out the words.
“Good girl.” He laces his tattooed fingers through yours and helps you out of the car. You expect him to let go of your hand as you walk inside, but he doesn’t. He holds your hand until you reach the elevator.
Once inside and the doors have sealed shut, Jungkook pushes you against the mirrored wall. You gasp out loud when his hips roll against yours, the hard outline of his cock more prominent than before.
“So fucking hard.” Another harsh roll of his hips, almost lifting your feet off the ground. Your breathing is rapid and uneven, the anticipation absolutely killing you. “Tell me how wet you are, baby. Please.” The words pour into your ear, all warm and inviting.
“Soaked.” You manage to croak out. Jungkook groans and slowly rolls his hips so that his cock rubs against your clit that was begging to be touched.
Just as you’re about to beg him to touch you, the elevator dings and the doors slide open to the floor jungkook had selected. You suddenly realize that anyone could see the two of you and you start to move out of his hold. But he has other ideas.
Jungkook grabs beneath your thighs and hoists them around his waist, making you squeal in the process. He walks out of the elevator with you in his arms towards his hotel room at the end of the hall.
“Jungkook…put me down.” Your eyes shoot open wide when you notice an older couple walking towards you. “Jungkook!” You gently push against his chest but he doesn’t let go.
“You think they care if I’m holding you? They were probably crazy back in their day.” Jungkook squeezes the globes of your ass in each hand as you pass the older couple, they don’t seem to care but you still feel blush rush to your cheeks. “Should we ask them if they want to watch?” He wiggles his eye brows and you smack his chest.
“No way! Are you crazy?” You half laugh.
“Not into sharing? That’s cool pretty girl, you don’t have to share me with anyone.” Jungkook props you up against the hotel room door while he digs for the key card in his pocket.
“You can put me down.” You say again.
“Hmm. No.” He finds the card and opens the door, lifting you higher in his arms before he carries you into the room. You roll your eyes, but let him continue to do it.
You look around at the room when he finally sets you down in front of the unmade bed. There were two open suitcases in front of the window, clothes scattered about. Some empty beer bottles and ash trays sat untouched on the night stand on one side of the bed. Typical hotel room of a traveling rockstar.
What wasn’t so typical though, were the comic books laying around in the rumpled blankets on the bed. You tilt your head with curiosity and pick one up, gently flipping through some of the pages.
“You like to read comics?” You ask Jungkook, who has started trying to shove things into his suitcases.
“From time to time. Something to keep my mind busy on tour.” He shrugs a little as he roughly moves the suitcases around. You smile to yourself and sit the comic back down before turning to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t need to do that.” Referring to him trying to clean up the mess in the room. Jungkook seems to listen, stretching his arms above his head before coming to stand in front of you where you sit on the bed.
“I need a shower. How about you, pretty girl?” His tattooed hand gently wraps around the back of your neck as he bends at the waist to be face to face with you.
“You want me to shower with you?” You realize how stupid it was to ask, but it was too late to take it back now. Jungkook laughs quietly.
“Amongst other things.” He smiles, lips the perfect color of pink, silver hoop pierced through the corner. “For example…” His hand slides up and around to your face, cupping your cheek and ghosting his thumb over your jaw. “I’d like to see your lips wrapped around my cock…fuck, that would be a sight to see.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and groans under his breath.
Jungkook stands up straight, but keeps his hand cupping your jaw, watching you as you think about what to do next. You keep your eyes on his for a moment, but then almost on their own, your hands find his denim clad thighs. You rub up the front of them a few times, but not touching his crotch that was getting harder by the moment.
“Be good, baby. Don’t tease me.” Jungkook sighs, thumbing at your bottom lip.
You take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his thumb instead, keeping your hands on his thighs. You suck his digit softly at first, tongue licking the length of it. You’re practically drooling around his thumb in anticipation of having his much bigger cock in your mouth.
Your hands move up his thighs to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them both. When you bring your eyes down to his waist, you can see that your earlier assumption of Jungkook not wearing any underwear was indeed correct. Fuck, he was too hot.
Just as you’re about to pull his jeans off of his hips, he stops you, and instead leans back over to kiss you roughly.
“What’s wrong?” You ask when your lips part from his with a wet smacking noise.
“Shower first. I’ve been sweaty, baby.” He kisses you again, almost making you fall back against the mattress with its force. He makes you absolutely dizzy with lust. “Come with me?”
“You want to shower before sex?” You ask.
“We can take one afterwards too, if you want.” He smiles and helps you up off of the bed.
You follow Jungkook to the bathroom, stupidly nervous. He was going to see you naked one way or another, why did this feel so strangely intimate? Too intimate for a one night stand.
There’s an ashtray with some half smoked joints sitting on the bathroom counter, along with some hair products and skin care type things. You’re almost too distracted to notice Jungkook pulling his shirt over his head.
“Do you smoke?” He asks.
“I have…it’s been awhile.” You watch as Jungkook picks up one of the joints and puts it between his lips.
“Nothing better than a shower joint. Except maybe a shower beer.” He laughs and digs for a lighter in his pocket. Once he’s retrieved it, he lights the joint and takes a very long drag.
“Can you smoke in here?” You ask, knowing you must sound so cringey for asking. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and holds the joint up to your lips.
“It’s blueberry haze. One of the best strands I’ve had.” Jungkook lets you take the joint, then casually shoves his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of the denim and kicking them to the corner.
“Blueberry haze, you say?” Your words are distracted by his naked form. Broad chest and big arms. Tiny waist and…really big dick confirmed.
“Give it a try, pretty girl.” Jungkook watches as your eyes make their way back to his face, blinking so adorably.
You refocus your thoughts long enough to bring the joint to your lips and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs and makes you cough, immediately handing it back to Jungkook, who rubs your back soothingly while you catch your breath.
“That’s…kind of strong.” You struggle to get the words out.
“You’re not naked enough.” Jungkook touches the hem of your shirt at your hip.
“Being naked helps with smoking weed?” You raise a questioning eyebrow, already beginning to feel it’s effects.
“I like to think so.” Jungkook slowly drags your shirt up and over your head, being delightfully met with the sight of your bare chest. “I’d love to have my mouth all over these.” Your shirt is long forgotten and so is your shyness.
“Why don’t you?” You take a step up closer to him, barely hearing the groaning noise he makes.
“Get these off.” He sticks his pointer finger just inside the waistband of your jeans, pulling at the material until it softly snaps back against your skin. You obey far too willingly, the blueberry haze in your mind making you feel extremely pliant.
You remove your jeans and underwear in a quick motion, kicking away the clothing and immediately reaching for Jungkooks skin, touching his shoulders and meeting his eyes with yours.
“You kind of look like a blueberry…a beautiful blueberry.” You giggle, fingers toying with the strands of his blue hair. Jungkook giggles too, big arms wrapping around your waist.
“You’re so fucking cute.” He kisses you a few times, then moves your body back towards the shower door. “Let’s get you wet.” He whispers into your mouth. You want to tell him that you’re already dripping wet between your thighs, but instead you step into the steamy shower with him right behind you, closing the smoky glass door.
The hot water immediately hits your skin and makes your muscles relax. You almost forget for a moment that a beautiful man is also in here with you, until his hands are on your hips and turning you around to face him.
“Don’t you need to get cleaned up?” You ask, Jungkook's hands sliding up your wet skin to cup your breasts in his hands. You whimper, not realizing how desperate you were to be touched.
“Mmm, I do.” His thumbs flick over your nipples, and then his touch is gone, making your eyes shoot open.
Jungkook is taking another drag from the joint, breathing it in deeply and holding it in his lungs. He grabs the back of your head, fingers gripping your wet hair and pressing his mouth onto yours. You feel the smoke slowly creep from his mouth into yours. You breathe it in like he wants you to, then let it out through your nose so that you can keep kissing him.
“I think…I think you should get cleaned up…quickly.” You say between kisses and strokes of his tongue.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” Jungkooks mouth travels from your lips to your jaw, nipping with his teeth as he goes.
“Can I show you?” The high you’re on is making you feel so bold.
“Please.” He pecks your lips and pulls away from you, he knows what you want.
You put a hand to his chest between his very defined pecks, sliding it between the muscles and down over the hard planes of his stomach until you reach his cock, hot and hard in your hand. You watch his face for any dislike, but he only put his hand over yours and makes you tighten your grip.
You don’t want to waste time, you want to hear him fall apart with his cock down your throat. You lean forward and lick one of his nipples, sucking it gently. Jungkook lets his head fall back against the shower wall, pulling his pierced lip between his teeth.
You lick up some water drops on your way down his body. His perfectly sculpted body that you most certainly take note of, gently getting to your knees in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes one more time before opening your mouth to take his cock inside.
Jungkook hisses through his teeth when you start to suck. Gently at first, short, shallow motions as you bob your head. You look up to see the muscles of his stomach tighten over and over the deeper you take him. It’s when you add your tongue that he really starts to make noise above you.
“That’s so good, baby. Keep going, just like that.” Jungkook touches your jaw and your cheek his fingers, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.
You let him start to move his hips and thrust into your mouth and throat. You gag a couple of times, but you don’t want him to stop. The pretty moans and whimpers he’s making are too perfect to stop, so you dig your nails into the backs of his thighs and hold on for dear life when he starts move faster.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Jungkook smoothed back your hair and brought your face up so he could see your eyes. The eye contact seems to do him in. “Shit, shit, baby. Gonna cum…” He throws his head back in a long drawn out groan just as hot spurts of cum start to fill your throat.
You close your eyes and take everything that he gives you, slowing the motions of your head bobbing until he’s done, lazily licking the tip of his cock until he stops you.
“Was that okay?” You look up at him innocently, knowing that he’s wrecked at the moment.
“You’re fucking perfect.” His head is back against the shower wall as he laughs quietly.
You start to feel the ache in your knees, quickly wiping your mouth with your hand before you feel Jungkook wrap an arm around your waist to help you up. He smiles, then grabs some soap from the shelf behind you and scrubs himself clean with it, all you can seem to do is stand there in awe.
The desperation to be touched was becoming almost unbearable, but you try to keep your composure, letting Jungkook turn off the water and hand you a white fully hotel towel to dry off with. You both quickly take another drag from the slow burning joint on the counter, then move back into the bedroom area.
Jungkook has his white towel ties low on his slender hips. He’s walking around the room as if he’s looking for something and you aren’t sure what it could possibly be.
“Did you lose something?” You ask, taking a few steps closer to him.
“I had a necktie that I wore to dinner last night…” He tosses some things around in his suitcases.
“What do you need a necktie for?” The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up. But it suddenly dawns on you what he might be wanting to do with the necktie. “Oh…”
“Are you comfortable with that?” Jungkook gets down on his knees in front of the bed, flipping up the blankets and bed skirt to look beneath it.
“It would be…new, for me.” You tighten your hold on the towel wrapped around your body.
“All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will. No questions asked, if you don’t like it.” Jungkook reaches under the bed and pulls out a red necktie. “Found it.”
“Yeah…I can try it.” You nibble on your bottom lip and nervously cross the rest of the space to the bed.
“So good for me.” Jungkook closes any remaining space between the two of you and kisses your waiting lips. His kiss draws out all the nerves and turns them into lust. “Lay down with your hands above your head, wrists crossed.” The smallest bit of authority in his voice makes your pussy ache in such a delicious way. “And get rid of this.” He undoes the loose knot of your towel and lets it fall to the ground around your ankles.
You let him gently touch your bare hip before he’s moving to the other side of the bed. He watches intently as you climb onto the oversized bed, laying your head on the fluffed pillows with your arms above your head and wrists crossed, just as he asked.
“I’m ready.” You release a long breath, eyes coming back to Jungkook, whose eyes are shamelessly roaming your naked body.
“I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Jungkook says, wrapping and unwrapping the silky red material around his knuckles. “But I’m ready to have a taste of you.”
You shiver, watching as Jungkook kneels up onto the bed, raising his hand above your body and letting the silk tie just barely ghost over your skin. He starts at your ankle, moving it up your calf, over both thighs and purposely avoiding the ache between your legs.
“Please hurry up, Jungkook.” Your body arches away from the mattress when the silky material brushes over one of your nipples.
“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Jungkook coos, having mercy and wrapping your wrists up into the tie, attaching it to the headboard. “If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to be patient.”
You can barely take your eyes away from the sight of his naked body, until his mouth is suddenly on you. His mouth and tongue are having absolutely no mercy on your breasts and nipples. He groans each time he pulls a bud between his lips. The tie around your wrists is a torture you didn’t know that you needed.
“Jungkook…” You moan his name and he absolutely adores the sound of it. So much so, that he takes mercy and moves his body down the bed and settles between your thighs, his mouth quickly buried between them. “Oh fuck…” You pull at the binding, wishing your hands could lace into the blue strands of hair bobbing between your legs.
The mercy you thought you were receiving before is long gone. Jungkook is relentless with his tongue and lips. Long strokes of his tongue offset by quick sucks to your clit. It’s absolutely maddening.
You’re pulling at the tie so hard that you know you’ll have bruises on your skin in the morning. But the thought of it quickly passes when you feel Jungkook bury his mouth in your pussy, his nose brushing your clit as he moves his head back and forth in quick succession. You manage to look down between your legs just in time to meet his lust filled eyes, seeing him devouring you sends you over the edge hard and fast.
White flashes pop in and out of your vision as your body tries to recover from the insane orgasm you just experienced. Jungkook hums low in his chest as he licks up everything you’ve given him, kissing the insides of both your thighs as he stands up from the bed to look down at you.
“Do you think that you deserve my cock?” Jungkook stands at the end of the bed, tattooed hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily.
“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You pant and squirm against the satin sheets, hands and arms still above your head. He watches your face carefully.
“The things I want to do to you…” He bites into his bottom lip as he continues to touch himself in front of you. “But I have to get my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours before I explode.”
Your chest heaved up and down at the thought of him finally fucking you. You were so desperate that you knew you would do anything he asked of you.
“Can you please untie me now?” You needed to touch his body…his skin…his muscles….feel his hair. All of it.
“Look what you do to me, pretty girl.” He ignores your request, making you whine at the lack of attention to what you wanted, but also at the way he’s spreading pre-cum up and down the length of his cock.
“I want you so badly, Jungkook. Please.” You move your hips up as he climbs back onto the bed and kneels between your open legs. His eyes saunter down your body until they get to your pussy, big hands pushing your thighs further apart so he can get a better look.
“You’re so wet. Thinking about my cock made you drip like this?” He scoots closer, the head of his cock so close to where you want it. You pull at the tie on your wrists again.
“Untie me…please.” You beg again.
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” Jungkook ignores you again, making you want to cry. “I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going fuck you hard and fast. And I want you to tell me how good it makes you feel. Make sure the people in the room next door know how badly you wanted my cock.” Jungkook kisses your stomach and then your hip. It’s so gentle compared to the way he then reaches down and roughly grabs the globes of your ass, lining you up with his cock just the way he wants you.
“Please…” You can’t bear it anymore, the build up has been so intense you can feel tears start to leak from the corners of your eyes.
“Be loud for me.” Jungkook doesn’t wait anymore, he impales you on his cock, easily sliding inside with how wet you’ve become. But you still feel the ache of the stretch as you try to accommodate all of him at once.
You moan loudly, just the way he wanted. Pulling at your binds and cursing yourself over and over for agreeing to be tied up. Jungkook keeps his hands on your hips as he starts his ruthless pace.
You can feel sweat forming on your forehead already as your stomach begins to tighten with another orgasm. His perfect cock finds that spot inside you with ease and abuses it over and over again.
“Untie me…god Jungkook please…please.” Your face is wet with tears from pleasure as well as frustration.
“You’ve been so good, haven’t you? I think I can do that.” He bends down to kiss your mouth, something he hadn’t done for what seemed like hours. While he kisses you, he moves one hand from your hip to the red silky tie on your wrists and pulls the knot free.
As soon as you feel it loosen, you rip your hands away from the head board and dig them into his blueberry colored hair, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper. Jungkook smiles at the desperation. He loves it in fact.
You move your hands down and let your nails dig slightly into his skin as he continues to piston his hips against yours. Jungkook groans at the feeling.
“Come here.” He practically growls, sitting up on his knees and bringing you with him. Your arms wrap around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, putting you in a somewhat riding position. Jungkook is able to fuck up into while on his knees, but keep you close. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His mouth is sloppy as it moves along your neck and collarbones.
“I’m going to cum again…you’re so deep.” Your mouth finds his, kissing him and breathing him in.
“You don’t need my permission, I want you to cream my cock. I want all of it.” Jungkook leans back on his hands, making the angle of his hips hit you even deeper than before. Your hands grip at his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he fucks you through another mind shattering orgasm. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.” Jungkook's voice breaks off in a moan as you clench around him over and over.
“Please cum, Jungkook. I need it.” Your body feels boneless, but you can feel how close Jungkook is starting to get to his own end. “You’re fucking me so well…but I need you to come.”
“Your pussy feels too good…gonna cum.” Jungkook buries his face in your neck and buries his cock as deep as he can get as he finishes inside you. You feel warmth full you up and drip down your thighs as his thrusts come to a halt.
You both stay still for a moment, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. Your fingers mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You’re okay?” He finally asks, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you.
“I’m great.” You laugh quietly. Jungkook smiles, then reaches behind his neck for your hands, bringing them around so he can look at your wrists.
“Does it hurt? They look like they might bruise…” His thumbs gently brush over your skin.
“I think I’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt now.” You watch him bring your wrists to his lips, pressing kisses up down each one.
“Do you want to sleep here?” He asks, softly lifting you from his lap and letting his softening cock fall from inside you, he looks at you concerned when you whimper.
“I can just…I can go home.” You scoot back on the mattress when Jungkook stands up from the bed. You didn’t want to overstay. You wouldn’t ever see him again, there wasn’t much point in staying.
“Are you sure? I can have my car take you home in the morning…or now. Whatever you prefer.” He then disappears into the bathroom and brings back a washcloth for you to clean up with.
“I’ll just get dressed.” You awkwardly clean up with the washcloth before heading to the bathroom to put it in the hamper and find your clothes.
You dress in a daze, but once you’re ready you back out into the room to find Jungkook in a pair of underwear sitting on the corner of the bed with his phone to his ear. You rub your hands on your thighs while you wait for him to finish.
“My driver is ready to take you home.” He pushes his blue hair back and tosses his phone onto the night stand.
“Thanks.” You continue to stand there without a clue what to do or say. “I’ll just…go.” You point at the door and start walking towards it.
“Wait!” Jungkook says just as you turn the handle. “At least leave me your number? If you’d be interested in seeing me next time I’m in town?” He grabs his phone again and crosses the room to stand with you. You wish you could stop the smile on your face.
“Sure.” You tap your number into his phone and hand it back. “See you around, Jungkook.” You kiss his cheek, but that is apparently not what he had in mind.
Jungkook grabs your chin in his tattooed hand and kisses you on the lips. It’s a kiss that tries to trick you into thinking that maybe he’s actually serious about seeing you again one day. It feels too complex.
“Goodnight, Y/N. I’d like it if you texted me when you made it home.” He pecks your lips once more, then releases your chin and takes a step back.
“Yeah, I can do that. Goodnight, Jungkook.” You open the door and step into the hallway, looking back just once more to see him smile down at the floor before the door closes.
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bangguks · 7 months ago
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can you ever be ready for TAEJIN? 😎
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opaljm · 10 months ago
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scream your panties (m) – pjm
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➺ pairing: jimin x female reader
➺ genres/tropes: fluff; humor; smut; minor angst; panhellenic college au ; established relationship ; halloween shenanigans
➺ warning/content tags: 18+; swearing (cuz issa fic by me), extremely inaccurate depictions of Greek life (I used PBP because I have friends from there and it’s the only one I feel safe making fun of); mutually jealous Jimin and Y/N who are in a deeply symbiotic relationship and are somehow the same person, sexualized Toy Story Halloween costumes, Y/N is prone to murderous fits of rage but so is Jimin (he just pretends he isn’t to look more civilized), haunted houses are scary (includes jump scares, scary themed rooms, and also taegiseok n yeonbin in creepy costumes), fighting n misunderstandings (gets scary for a sec but its quick like ripping off a bandage), smut: boob enthusiast Jimin, tons of breast play n nipple play, chest enthusiast Y/N cuz Jimin has nipple piercings 😏, Jimin likes to spank you both inside and outside the bedroom, hand job, unprotected penetrative rough sex (multiple times), Jimin n Y/N get randomly into the feels all the fucking time so if you hate intimacy this fic aint the one for you, copious marking/biting, spit play, panty thief Jimin returns (sorry but this is canon to my Jimins I can’t make him stop 🤡), big dick size king Jimin, creampies/pussy stuffing, blow job, sixty-nine action (yes they blow and eat out each other at the same time), fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, cock warming, showering together
➺ word count: 17.4k
➺ summary: As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin's frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend's delicious self between your legs.
➺ author’s note: Yo sorry for being a hot mess 😭. I had to change my fic idea for this collab last minute (literally on like Oct. 29) and since then it's been a mad dash to get this fic out. I didn't abandon the vampire fic idea, I'm just gonna write it outside a collab with deadlines don't fret! Anyways I hope you really enjoy this fic, it was supposed to be a short lil cute pwp and I made it a super long smutty mammoth fic because I'm obsessed with Jimin 🙄. Btw I amped up the steamy factor and length cuz I'm going on a writing break after Nov. 15 since I’m not really going to have much of free time to write. I’ll still attempt to post once a month but if that doesn’t happen please don’t pressure me about it? I posted like 100k for you guys this year and the year isn’t even over. I hope this tides you over until you get the second half of LOTL. Cuz like, is it a Halloween fic? Sure. But also, do sororities and frats always have random ass costume parties in the middle of the year? Yeah, man. You can read this fic at any time of the year honestly. Please leave some love for this fic if you did like it 💕 feedback is always incredible to receive. The validation I get on each fic I post increases my confidence and allows me to feel secure in continuing to write and post more stories for you guys. I love you a lot and I’ll miss you when I’m on my writing hiatus. These exams are absolutely critical though; I can’t manage both the stress of tumblr and school at the same time for Nov-Jan tbh.
This fic is a part of Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober! Banner made by my darling @knjsnoona & me! It’s just collaboration after collaboration in this household lmaoo 🥰. Beta-read by @jimilter she’s on payroll now! Jimin writes the checks to my lovely bff for all of her help (this is a joke I hope you understand that 😭). I feel like I should credit Ash as a ghost writer. I mean she didn't write this fic but she basically could've with how much I told her and how much she helped. I’m truly blessed to have such lovely and supportive angels as friends 🥺
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It’s hot in your bedroom but you don’t want to push the male who’s got his face buried in your chest off your body.
Stifling a sigh, your left hand caresses his scalp, long fingers threading themselves into the messy overgrown gunmetal gray strands. Jimin slides his palms over your sides, grasping a hold of your tiny waist and pulling you closer to him as you throw a leg over his hips. His hands move north as he brushes them past your ribs and grabs your bare breasts, uncovered since you are mostly nude underneath him and only wearing a scrap of red lace to cover your lower half. He presses your breasts together, bunching the round full globes together before swiping a thumb over the puffy nipples until they start to harden. He finishes the job by enclosing his mouth over one of them and then the other, sucking and nibbling on those stiffening points until they tighten into sensitive, rigid peaks.
It’s not unusual for you to be wrapped around your boyfriend’s body, his slim yet muscular limbs grasping you like a vice, on a Friday afternoon. You don’t have classes on the last day of the week, only a morning shift as a writing tutor at the student center, and Jimin only has his Philosophy discussion on Fridays, led by the course’s TA. The two of you always find your ways back to each other on this day, hence, making up for the lost time over the rest of the week.
Today, you met him for lunch at the Panda Express on campus and then walked back with him to your apartment. Which brings us back to now – Jimin with his shirt off, only wearing the sky blue jeans that make his ass look divine, hovering over your body with his overly long, steel colored bangs falling into his eyes as he sucks on your tits and hums absentmindedly.
The two of you have come to prefer your place over his for moments like these. In freshman year, you were in a triple in the dorms while he had a double with Kim Taehyung, so you two would usually find yourselves fooling around in random empty classrooms in the Physics department. In sophomore year, you lived in your sorority which had much stricter rules than the apartment Jimin had gotten with a couple of his friends. But this year, Jimin is living in his fraternity and you are the one with the apartment which you don’t have to share with anyone. You’ve slept over at the frat before; Beta Tau Sigma doesn’t care if they have girls over, but sometimes you both prefer the privacy here. Jimin and you are usually insatiable; two and a half years together and you’re both still exceeding horny when it comes to each other, and if Jimin’s frat knew how often you two actually were fucking rather than doing anything else, they would never let him live it down as they hurled teasing but impressed compliments his way.
“Jimin?” you murmur, tightening your grip to tilt his head upwards so he can meet your gaze.
Jimin looks at you, heated dark brown eyes under hooded eyelids, his soft silvery hair a rumpled mess clinging to his forehead. “I love you,” he mutters, locking his eyes with yours, pushing his lips out into a puckered pout that eagerly seek yours.
Fuck. He’s so hot.
You move your head towards his and sigh as your lips meet. Jimin slots his lips over yours again and again, their plush pillowiness feeling like heaven against your mouth. He languidly darts his tongue out to press against your lips until they part enough that he can slip it inside. As your tongues twine together, Jimin sucks on yours, his cheeks hollowing out. A moan slips out from you, unbidden as you’re unable to control your urges around this man. One would think that time would make it easier for you, make you less susceptible to the temptation that was Park Jimin, but they would be wrong.
You still make a valiant effort to pull away from him, breaking apart from the kiss. You press your palm against his chest, flush against the Nevermind tattoo crawling up the right side of his torso, to keep him from drawing even closer to you although his grip around your waist keeps you from getting too far.
“Jimin,” you whine trying to engage your boyfriend into conversation.
The male lets his face fall into your chest, banging his forehead lightly against your sternum, “No,” he protests, his straight, dark eyebrows getting pushed together as he furrows his forehead. “Lemme kiss you. I just wanna spend time with you here in your bed until I’m forced to leave and help the Beta Tau Sigma set up for the haunted house. You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you baby?” he needles, “We have all night to talk.”
You scowl, not that he can see it, and push him off of you. Jimin rolls his body around, flopping next to you in bed, immediately wincing when he notices your narrowed eyes. “What is it, Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asks it sweetly and it seems at odds with how his previous sentence caught your ire and made you instantly see red.
“Why do you never want to talk to me?” you demand, crossing your hands over your bare breasts. You irately sweep your long mess of dark hair over your shoulder to let it hang down your back.
You barely got to speak to him this week; when you delivered a bag of hot tofu stew and rice to the study room he had booked, he snapped at you when you hung around, though you were only planning on sticking around long enough to kiss Jimin and force him to put down his books to eat. But this feels different from how Jimin goes radio silent during the weeks when he has a heavy school load filled with studying for exams. Both of you were done with midterms. You wouldn’t have tests again until finals. Jimin even made up his mind to come out and celebrate Halloween with you and his frat, even though he has his Autumn showcase the next evening.
You don’t know if you’re being entirely too sensitive but you don’t like this. It’s hurtful that Jimin says he doesn’t want to talk to you right now—right?
Jimin stares at you, pink mouth wide open as he looks aghast. “I know. I messed up. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have worded it like that, but you know I love talking to you. That’s all we ever do, baby. I text you more out of everyone. I facetime you at all hours of the day. It’s never ever a silent meal when we’re eating together. And I love every bit of it. You know that, right? Y/N, I just. Baby, I miss you. I haven’t seen you all week. I want physical intimacy with you, not just emotional.”
Your frown softens. Fuck, you are being overemotional. He’s right. He’s a great boyfriend. He always tries his best to stay close to you and make your relationship seem special. You were especially craving Jimin’s soft words after so long without (or so it felt, anyways), said in that husky yet sweet toned drawl, fanning over your heated skin as he delivered them with hard kisses from his plush, Bratz doll-esque lips. Your love language was words of affirmation, after all. But in that way, perhaps Jimin needed to slowly ease his way back into talking to you. He did get frighteningly shy. Your sweet loveable boyfriend grew quiet and uncomfortable with people, even those he had known his entire life if he hadn’t seen them for a while. It never took him too long to get back into the flow of his old ways, but he was always a little awkward at the beginning. How had you forgotten that?
You bite your lips as you frown and you let yourself get wrapped in his embrace again, remembering that Jimin craved physical intimacy with you and that that was his love language. For a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the warmth from his hold, cherishing the way he buries his nose into your crown and tenderly drops light kisses on the top of your head while you attempt to calm your breathing and reign in your emotions. This has nothing to do with him. You’re overreacting.
Striving for a lighthearted tone, you let out a hopefully airy laugh that doesn’t ring too hollow. You brush your fingers along his spine, where you can feel the ring of bones going up his back, softly letting your fingertips tickle his sensitive skin.
“We’ll have sex, I promise. I just need to talk to you about tonight first, before I forget.”
“What’s there to talk about, babe? You got me the costume; I’ll wear it and show up to the Pi Beta Phi manor and we’ll win the thing. And then we go over to my frat to go through the haunted house.”
There were multiple reasons why Jimin walked you home today, but the most important one in your eyes is to pick up his Halloween costume. You have grand aspirations of winning the costume contest at the function your sorority is holding. The winner of the couple event will not only get a month off of required duties at the sorority but also a weekend stay at a fancy hotel room in the city. You are so tired of the mac n cheese lunches they held for philanthropy events. You gain ten pounds, or so it feels, each time. And the date parties? The themes are always so weird and unique that you have to buy a completely new outfit for yourself each time because you can’t reuse anything that was already in your closet. That’s not even the worst of it but you’ve gotten your point across. This sorority is bleeding you dry.
“Ugh, the haunted house,” you groan, burrowing your face into Jimin’s shoulder. His skin is warm and flushed, but he smells amazing and his hugs always give you the instant boost of serotonin you desperately need. Which you now need more than ever. Tonight has to be good for both of you.
Jimin thinks you’re only upset because you hate being scared and bemoans, “Hey! You said that if I let you pick the costumes you would come with me to my Beta Tau’s event too. It’s not Jack and Sally, is it?” His lower lip juts out into a pout that you’re too distracted to notice.
“I thought you guys would throw a Halloween party,” you grumbled.
“We’re doing that too, babe. It’s just half the first floor and all of the second floor we’re converting.”
You suddenly remember the second part of Jimin’s question which makes you laugh lightly, more genuinely this time, before pressing a soft kiss against his throat, “Sorry, ’Min, I didn’t have time to hand make costumes for The Nightmare Before Christmas. Next time, okay? I still think this is good. We could win.”
“What is it?” he asks, sounding full of suspicion. But his attention is wavering again and he’s more focused on groping your ass and pulling on your red lace panties before they snap back softly against your skin.
“You’ll see when you get ready,” you murmur, “But, Jimin,” you hedge.
“Hmm?” He's not paying attention at all. Not when he gets to grip at your luscious hips and squeeze your juicy ass.
“I need you to look very sexy. Pull out all the stops when you’re getting ready, baby.” It’s not that Jimin doesn’t look good when he doesn’t put in effort. He has a casual beauty that is heightened by his effortless style. But you need him to look lethal. Park Jimin when he wants to slay is a whole other kind of demon, one that you are glad is your boyfriend. You would cry if you got to see Jimin looking fine as hell but he wasn’t going home with you.
He bends his neck, nuzzling his face into your chest again, “Sure thing, baby. I won’t forget. Do you need to do my makeup? Should I just ditch helping with the setup?”
You tighten your grip, “Stay with me. Fuck Beta Tau Sigma.”
He chortles, letting out peals of pleasured laughter, “Babe. I wish.” Jimin’s so fucking cute, you wanna pat his head and thus you immediately do so, not even attempting to curb the urge, and then you finger comb back his silver gray locks that you had twisted into a mess earlier.
“No, you don’t need any face makeup, unless you want to. You just need to look hot and be shamelessly confident. Maybe you can channel Seokjin?” you suggest. You heard that Seokjin has a nautical themed costume to wear tonight. If he’s going as a sexy merman that bares all, then Jimin could probably stand to borrow some of his confidence.
Jimin narrows his eyes, looking affronted, tightening his grip on one asscheek before spanking it loudly, “I don’t need to channel Seokjin hyung when I can channel myself, Y/N.”
“Okay, okay,” you easily acquiesce, your own hand moving down to your backside and attempting to rub the reddened flesh. “You’re right, but… remember to do that please.”
“Okay, I don’t get all this remembering business. Y/N, I always look hot,” Jimin tilts his head looking down at you, “What the fuck are you dressing me up as, dude?”
You blink. “Something sexy?”
“Then explain your comment or I’m pushing you off me. You don’t deserve me or my body,” he sasses, already with his hands on your shoulders, prepared to throw you off. “Y/N, you do think I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen or been with, right?”
You nervously giggle and lightly scream. How the fuck do you explain that you need Jimin to pull off a very specific look without spoiling the surprise and telling him what it is? “Of course, I think you’re the most attractive man that’s ever lived. Jimin, you are pure aesthetic excellence,” you quickly interject.
“You know how there are several kinds of attractive men? I need you to put on the costume first and let that influence how you do your hair. Like remember when we watched 50 Shades of Grey and you said you were Christian Chim Chim. Don’t fucking do that shit. I need—oh shit, you’re right. I need you to channel yourself. Baby, when you pick your filter for tonight, I need you to be the frattiest, most cocky, and confident fuckboy ever. Give your entire frat a run for their money. Baby, you need to be able to get any guy or girl. That Jimin. The one that bagged me. Be that Jimin.”
“Wow, I didn’t think you were going in that direction,” he laughs, sheepishly, “I came at you too hard. Of course, I know my girlfriend is fucking attracted to me. Sorry, babe, my head isn’t right this week.”
You look up at Jimin, “What’s wrong?” the words aren’t delivered lovingly – no, they’re delivered like a threat; like you’re fully prepared to go find the bitch or asshole who knocked down Jimin’s self esteem and tear them a new one. Nobody gets to hurt your baby like that. Not even you. And if you did do it, accidentally, you would usually wallow in a pool of despair ,begging for Jimin’s forgiveness while at the same time knowing you didn’t deserve it.
And that had only happened once and only because you didn’t know that his hand size was a trigger for him. They’re bigger than yours by a centimeter, though his pinky is about a millimeter or two smaller and you had laughed about how you found it funny that your pinky was longer. But then you cried yourself to sleep when you noticed that Jimin had gone quiet for the rest of the date and didn’t even bother to kiss you goodnight before leaving.
Right now, Jimin snorts, “I’m just being dramatic. Jungkook said I looked like a hot mess this week. And I know that my hair looked like a haystack and my clothes weren’t coordinated, but it’s not like I had time to blow dry my hair or plan outfits or even breathe.”
“Well, Jungkook’s an ugly jock, so what does he know about sexiness?” you scowl, “Stupid fucker with his big, ugly muscles and his meatheaded coconut shaped skull.”
“I have muscles,” Jimin interrupts, rolling the two of you around again until he's caging you under his body. His hands are right by your ears, fingers splayed out and his 13 tattoo looks so starkly black from where it is on his flexed left wrist. The devious male smirks before he subtly rolls his hips into you, hard zipper from the denim pressing against your messy and flushed front.
“Sexy muscles,” you sigh immediately, “Jungkook wishes he looked like you.”
He bites down on his lower lip to hide his smile but it still breaks free, the curve of his lips curling up as it spreads wide to show how happy he is. “Pretty girl,” he mumbles, “I want to destroy you but you’re too sweet.”
At that, your legs immediately surge upwards to cross over his ass, thighs hugging either side of his hips while meeting those shallow rolls of his. You gyrate your own hips until you can get your folds perfectly aligned with his zipper and his cock beneath it, an angry hard length that’s desperate to break free.
Jimin inhales loudly, a sharp sound that makes your skin breakout with goosebumps even with your warm skin pressed against his hot flushed one. You’re hyper aware of his every move and sound. When he moves his hands over your ass-cheeks, palming them, his dexterous fingers are restless as they seek to make you whimper and keen before he squeezes your ass, pushing you up to draw your hips to him until your pelvis is flush against his. He grasps you so tightly that there’s barely a hairsbreadth of space in between the two of you. Jimin loves going commando and his cock head breaches the waistband of his jeans, the tip stabbing you in the belly button because of its monstrous length.
He’s looking down at you with his eyelids hooded. His blackened eyes are dark from desire, the pupils so blown out you can barely make out the brown irises that edge them. The heat terrifies you but also makes you yearn for more, and you haphazardly move your face in the direction of his, almost missing his mouth as you sloppily join lips together. Your arms go up, twining around his neck, both your hands have their fingers buried in his gunmetal colored locks, palms supporting and cradling the back of his head lovingly.
His jaw almost crashes into your chin as he vigorously leans into the kiss, greedily inhaling through his nose, reluctant to pull apart from your mouth as he keeps swiping his lips over yours, sucking at your plump lower lip and nibbling at your cupid’s bow, before he eases you into opening your mouth again. All the while he’s got a hold on your ass, using it to further push you into him instead of crashing down on you, suffocating you with his heavy weight and pressing you into the mattress. The act is thoughtful, though born out of desperation, and your fronts collide with each other, your breasts clinging to his chest as your hardened nipples brush against his metal adorned ones. You hiss when you feel the round ends of his piercings drag against your soft skin, dimpling into them when you’re pushed even tighter against Jimin.
One of Jimin’s hands wander from your ass to clench your thigh, gripping your smooth, supple flesh as his fingers, with the nails slightly grown out since he had forgotten to cut them this week, dig into your skin while he pulls your legs apart and bucks against you. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt but his fingernails do leave temporary red crescent indentations and make you whimper from the tiny bit of pain.
Your tongue, meanwhile, is still roving around Jimin’s mouth and brushes over his reddened swollen lips, and you can taste the mint from the Listerine strip he had dissolved on his tongue after lunch, as well as the peach flavored lip balm he had swiped from your book bag. After a particularly hard nip from Jimin’s teeth, you break apart from his lips to let out an embarrassingly loud wanton moan. He doesn’t let a single second go to waste as he drags his lips along your jaw, nibbling along the way as he moves lower in the direction of your throat. Once there, he bites roughly at the sensitive skin above the hollow of your neck, sucking on it harshly until it leaves a blossoming mark of reds and violets. As he darts his tongue out to soothe the aching flesh, he sneakily dips it into the hollow of your neck and then your collarbones as well, messily licking up the flushed expanse of your skin.
Jimin soon finds his way back to your cherished breasts that he loves so ardently. As he wraps his mouth around a still angrily reddened and tender nipple, you make your hand sneak in between the two of your abdomens, not playing the role of an idle participant. Your hand grips at the front of his pants, holding his cock against your palm as your thumb rubs at its swollen head. You stop your movement over his dick to turn your attention to undoing his button and Jimin growls out in frustration, biting down on your soft underboob, leaving a half circle of teeth marks.
“Chill, baby,” you soothe him, and as soon as you free his cock from its confines, your hand tightly grasps the member to stroke it.
The tight, suctioning grip of your fingers and palm around his heated shaft makes him sigh lewdly in relief as his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, his long dark eyelashes fanning the apples of his cheeks. He slumps against you, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as one of his dampened locks of hair falls over his left eye. His nose brushes against yours, and if you wanted, you could place gentle open mouthed kisses on his slightly parted lips, but you ignore them to focus on his cock, while Jimin turns his attention to wetly press his mouth against your cheek and then your jaw.
His moans go up a pitch, filling your ears with his musical sounds of pleasure. Biting your bottom lip, your teeth sinking into it as you press your forehead against Jimin’s even harder, you switch up your form and go to fondle his balls with your nimble fingers. As you tug on them, Jimin lets out an anguished sound that's a cross between agony and elation.
“Y/N, don’t. Don’t tease me. Please?” he begs, “I haven’t had time to get off all week. Baby, please. I’m gonna blow my load. Let me fuck you, beautiful.”
You quit teasing him and instead, your hands got to his waistband on either side, fully determined to shove his pants down his thighs. You don’t even need them down fully, just enough so that Jimin could fuck you without any complications.
He backs up from you and you sigh in discontentment the second Jimin’s flushed peaches n’ cream skin is no longer clinging to yours as the male hops off your bed to tear his jeans fully off his legs. He struggles a little, jumping lightly as the tight material clings to his sweaty thighs and you almost swoon when you see his ass jiggle. What was that thing Doja Cat said? Oh yes, “if you could see it from the front wait till you can see it from the back.” And you can definitely see Jimin’s from the front while also confirming that yes, the backside view is even more mouthwatering.
The pants successfully taken off and thrown to a far corner of the room, Jimin immediately hurls his whole body onto the bed, catching himself with those toned arms whose biceps have started to look shockingly large in the past couple of months and made you demand Jimin carry you everywhere around because he was definitely strong enough to. The thought makes you smile and you immediately smack a kiss against Jimin’s lips because he always carried you whenever you asked.
“Hi, baby,” he whispers against your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. His thick thighs are bracketing yours as Jimin hovers above your lap, his cock bobbing against your pelvis and its head getting caught onto your lace underwear as it soaks it with precum. As he pulls your panties off, he asks, “Can I keep these? I’ll return them to you later. Hand washed and folded.”
You snicker, “Sicko,” teasing him, but then you press your lips against his before they can droop down into a frown. “Yeah, go ahead, baby. Thanks for remembering that they don’t go into the washer.”
And then you and Jimin are finally getting to the main event. Bare as always, because while you had been on the pill since you were fifteen, Jimin and you hadn’t started having condomless sex until the third month of dating. But once you started, you never went back. Your clit doesn’t need much to get it going and you’re already gushing like a broken faucet so Jimin thrusts his cock into you without much pomp or circumstance. As always, you gasp at the intrusion. Not only does your boyfriend have a sizable length, but he’s also girthy as hell and whenever he first fills you up, he takes your breath away.
According to Jimin, it’s because you don’t work out and you’re possibly asthmatic. At that you always smack the back side of his head and tell him no, it’s grossly romantic that he can take your breath away with his fine ass dick game, and your lung capacity is fine for someone who wasn’t in the church choir for twelve years. Yes, your boyfriend is a former church boy. If only Father Thomas could see how low he had fallen. But compliments about Jimin’s dick always makes the cocky, pun intended, jerk smirk like a self-satisfied Cheshire cat and giggle adorably. He is a stunning contradiction of a man. Sometimes you want to suffocate him with your thighs, other times with a pillow.
He shallowly thrusts in you once, twice before he unexpectedly takes almost his entire dick out of your folds before slamming back into you so vigorously that it makes your thighs quiver, wrapped as they are around his waist. He’s so deep in you that you can feel the clean shaven base of his cock pressed against your mons. From there on it’s a frantic joining of the two of your bodies as Jimin furiously pounds into you, letting out all of his frustrations from the past week onto your body in the form of turbulent love making. You hold on for dear life, clutching onto his broad shoulders as your mouth slides against Jimin’s ear, softly whispering how much you love him and how you’ll always be there for him and how there’s no one else in the world more perfectly suited for you than your beloved boyfriend.
When he finally cums into you, a messy and molten flow of whiteness that paints your insides and then leaks out from the overflow, proof that your poor darling truly didn’t have a moment recently to let off some steam, the male wearily drags his body away from yours so he can return with a damp cloth to clean you up between your legs. As you drowsily look up at him and make grabby hands, he gently slaps them away, before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and brushing back your hair, tucking in a lock behind your ear.
“I need to go, baby,” he bemoans, “But I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’m setting an alarm on your phone to wake you up in an hour so you don’t oversleep and then have to rush to get ready.”
“Sweet baby,” you murmur, locking your arms around his neck and keeping him in place.
“Considerate baby,” Jimin argues, tenderly moving his hands up to encircle your wrists and pull your arms away from him so he’s no longer trapped in your hold. “I love you, Y/N.”
“Love you,” you parrot drowsily, your eyes slowly falling shut as Jimin walks around your room to gather his clothes and then get ready to leave. He remembers to grab the shopping bag from Nordstrom you stuffed his costume in, not that you would ever shop there to buy a one time Halloween costume. It’s more likely that you reused the bag. He squints in confusion when all he sees is a mess of brightly colored fabric within it but he just shrugs, too tired from the sex to work up enough brain power to guess what his costume is. He then heads out the door, not forgetting to lock it behind him.
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When you wake up to your annoying ass alarm an hour later—now why the fuck did Jimin use the quacking ducks preset as the ringtone? You feel boneless yet still exhausted. You tiredly drag yourself into the shower to get the smell of sex off your body and wash your hair, though it’s going to be hidden under a wig, just so you can feel squeaky clean before you put on your costume.
You and Jimin are dressing up as Ken and Barbie from Toy Story 3, and in your opinion the costumes don’t look half bad. You were running late with the costume planning in between everything you had on your plate this month but a successful run at the thrift store has given you plenty to work with. You ended up with explosively colored outfits for both of you, although they were more loosely inspired than exact replicas. After all, this is Greek life, you have to amp up the sex appeal for both of your costumes.
For yourself, this means that instead of wearing Barbie’s electric blue jumpsuit, you are wearing a bright turquoise bodysuit with a deep plunging neckline that divides your bust in two and goes all the way to your midriff, fortunately keeping your navel concealed even as it dips dangerously low. The pink belt that goes around Barbie’s waist is instead a hot pink belted choker around your neck but you are rocking the green, white, pink, and blue 80s inspired leg warmers she was wearing as well as patent leather stiletto pumps in the same pink as your collar. Your look is finished off with a wild blue smokey eye and iridescent pale pink lips, and after you are done with your makeup, you struggle to make your synthetic blond wig not look completely awful on your head.
As you leave for Pi Beta Phi, you grab your purse, keys, and phone but a quick step outside reveals that the weather has gone unexpectedly chilly, making you rush back to the apartment and grab the first piece of outerwear you see – which happens to be Jimin’s oversized light colored denim jacket he left in your apartment two weeks ago.
It’s probably for the best that you’re wearing the jacket, you think to yourself as you wobbly make your way across the hilly sidewalks that lead to Greek row in your stiletto heels. Your entire ass is out in the leotard-esque bodysuit and had you not been wearing a coat, the boys walking behind you surely would’ve gotten quite the show all the way uphill.
At the house, your sisters are busily running around making sure everything is perfect and ready for the party. They have made Pi Phi manor look great, although it leans towards the glitzy and glam side of decorations rather than the cute and spooky side. Black and orange is prominent throughout the entire house however, with the grand staircase railing done up with black poofy garlands and glittery orange streamers. You sign yourself and Jimin for the costume contest and then grab a red solo cup of apple cider – non-alcoholic since sororities aren't allowed to serve substances on their grounds, thanks to a decidedly sexist rule that never gets changed no matter how many elections pass – before heading back outside to watch the costumed guests walk up.
Your sisters and their guests are hanging around the cute little games that were set up on the grass. There’s a beanbag toss where the bags are all white and decorated with the faces of various mischievous ghosts as well as a cider bottle toss. You know that your boyfriend will get excited by the pumpkin smash station so you pointedly walk far away from it to the other side of the lawn where you see a couple of your friends surrounding the giant tin containers that have been set up for apple bobbing. Jimin’s fraternity brothers Seokjin and Namjoon are on their knees, since the basins are too low for their tall statures, while Namjoon’s girlfriend cheers for them as Jungkook simultaneously jeers them on.
Seokjin is dressed in a sailor costume that leaves little to the imagination. He has a peaked captain’s cap placed jauntily on his dark brown hair while his slutty outfit consists of white suspenders strapped onto navy skin clinging short shorts. A white and navy striped sailor collar hangs over his Pacific Ocean wide shoulders that ties in the front with the two floppy end pieces bouncing against his pecs from any sudden movements. Apparently, you were mistaken when you had thought that his nautical nod for the night meant that he would be a sexy merman. Seokjin seems to prefer a slutty sailor. His hands are clasped behind his back as he bends down to bite down on an apple.
Namjoon on the other hand is fully prepared for the costume contest in a TV accurate depiction of Khal Drogo. You don’t doubt for a second that it was his girlfriend’s idea as the brown girl is dressed as Daenerys Targaryen and looks picture perfect as the mother of dragons with her freshly bleached hair. She keeps rubbing her hands over Namjoon’s bare shoulders and back as the male bobs for his own apple, all while keeping the lookout for Jungkook with narrowed eyes since the male seems dead set on shoving one of his hyungs’ heads underwater.
Just as Jungkook nudges Seokjin into the steel bucket of water with his knee, you hear someone shout your name. You look towards the sidewalk where Jimin’s walking up, looking like the perfect Ken from Toy Story 3 and you immediately dart away from your friends to jump into his arms.
“Jimin,” you hum, kissing his cheek as your arms tighten around his neck. The male strengthens the hold he has on your thighs, holding you more securely against him as he walks the two of you back to the apple bobbing crew.
“Y/N, what is your costume?” he asks while perplexedly scrunching his slightly pinkened face up, flushed from the biting cold air of the autumn night, as he easily sets you down and looks at the denim jacket swallowing your frame and the blonde wig that seems strangely out of place, “Now I’m even less sure of who I’m meant to be.”
You stare at Jimin. He’s wearing the brightly colored abstract print shirt completely open, letting you stare at his sunkissed rock hard abdominal muscles as well as the platinum bars that decorated his pecs. You sneakily stretch your hand forward so that you can possessively press your palm against his Nevermind tattoo and he snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you close to him. Your eyes make their way from his face to his neck where he haphazardly tied the blue bandana you got for him, the shade matching the exact color of your bodysuit. You untie it and redo it for him in a perfect Ascot knot.
“You’re Ken from Toy Story 3,” you explain, “It was hard finding the right shirt though,” you pout cutely at him.
Jimin tucks his hands into the small pockets of the light blue shorts he is wearing, cuffed to be even shorter. You forgot to account for how bootylicious Jimin is or how thick his thighs are because the cloth is tighter than you anticipated, clinging to his lower half like a second skin. You frown, biting your lip, no one better stare at his ass, suddenly possessed by jealousy. This peach is for your viewing pleasure only.
“Barbie doesn’t dress like that,” Jimin nods at his jacket, clearly indicating that he wants you to take it off so he can see what you’ve got on underneath.
“I was cold,” you defend yourself, but you slip off the outerwear and give it to the male to hold onto.
Jimin narrows his eyes as he walks around you to get the full 360° view, taking his chance to smack your ass lightly when he’s behind you. “You can put the coat back on if you’re cold,” he says nicely, sounding chivalrous though you know it’s more likely because he is just as possessive of your ass as you are of his, and both of your cheeks are practically hanging out due to the high cut of the leotard.
“Nice costume, hyung,” Jungkook nods in Jimin’s direction, handing him off an apple he clearly swiped from the game.
“Thanks,” Jimin snorts, putting the apple into your pocket instead of having it rest against his warm thighs in his shorts’ pockets. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”
Jungkook is shirtless and wearing a pair of crimson colored hot pants. You don’t have a damn clue what he is meant to be either. “The devil.”
“Where are your horns,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you narrow your eyes at him, very visibly and judgmentally looking him up and down, unimpressed by his lack of effort.
At that Jungkook’s eyes widen as he frantically pats the top of his curly black locks, “Shit, Sooyeon is gonna kill me.” And with that the male disappears into the fray, heading back into the sorority house to find the headpiece to his costume.
Jimin smiles, rocking back and forth on his feet, “I saw a jar of candy corn. If I guess the amount in it correctly or get the closest to it, I get to keep the jar.”
“Jimin, you hate candy corn,” you complain as you take his hand and allow him to pull you through the party so that you guys can walk around and see all the attractions.
“I could donate it. Or,” your boyfriend pauses, lower lip getting bitten as his brows become furrowed, “Halloween’s actually on Sunday. I could give it to the trick or treaters.”
“Children come by to the frat to get candy?!” you shriek, aghast at the thought. Those poor kids, getting scarred for life. The thought of them witnessing the shenanigans that Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook get up to has you distressed.
“Actually, we have a little event we do at the local elementary school. We play games. They show a PG-rated spooky movie in the auditorium and there’s little goodie bags we made earlier this week with individually wrapped candy and ghost and pumpkin stickers,” Jimin rambles, his cheeks going up and his eyes getting all squinty as he excitedly explains to you.
A soft smile overtakes your face as well, “That’s really sweet, Jimin, but what if you don’t end up doing anything with the candy corn because you forget? Wish it were jelly beans. Or even gummy worms.”
“I would do so well, though,” he grumbles, running a veiny hand through his silver locks, pushing the strands back and off of his forehead, “I’d win.”
“I know you would. You’re really good at estimating, but since we both know you’d win... Do we really need a 6 pound jar of waxy corn syrup flavored junk?”
“Disgusting,” mutters Jimin, and then he gently swings your attached arms back and forth as you both go deeper into the fray.
There’s a Quidditch themed butterbeer pong game that you’re pretty sure has been illegally set up, that you and Jimin spend most of your time at, drinking the disgusting butterscotch flavored soda – when you’re not at the snacks table eating the Southern bbq your sorority had catered, as well as all the sickeningly sweet seasonally appropriate desserts your sisters had either baked or bought.
Slightly sluggish from your full tummies, you guys finally go up to the cute little section inside the front entrance to the house where the formerly giant open space has been turned into a little stage with seats for the audience wishing to watch the costume party. Your Pi Beta Phi president, Sariya, is waving her little bedazzled orange and purple gavel like she thinks she’s a judge requesting order in the courtroom. You and Jimin speed walk your ways to getting seats in the far back, where you can make a quick escape if necessary.
You guys make it through several of the costumes, the highlights being Jisoo, Lisa, Jennie, and Rosé being dressed up as the teletubbies; Namjoon and his girlfriend providing steep competition as a Dothraki and Daenerys although you don’t think they’re going to win since pretty much everyone hated the last season of “Game of Thrones;” and several groups and couples embarrassingly dressing like characters from the ever popular Squid Game which is 2021’s version of how literally every couple dressed like Harley Quinn and the Joker from “Suicide Squad” in 2016. Then, it’s finally time for you and Jimin to hit the stage. You pull off the denim jacket and put it on a chair off to the side of the stage before you rush to catch up to your boyfriend and walk on stage with him hand in hand.
Your sorority’s chapter president announces that the two of you are dressed up as Barbara “Barbie” Roberts and Kenneth Carson as the two of you spin around and do little twirls to let everyone see your costumes from all angles. This is met with a second of split silence since no one knows the iconic Mattel couple’s full names but then she continues to tack on, “Barbie and Ken from Toy Story 3!” At that the audience is wracked with cheers since the third movie has always been the fan favorite out of the franchise. Though it could have easily been just as likely that they were screaming at how much skin you and Jimin were both revealing. The two of you skip off the stage feeling pretty secure about your victory since the cheers for you two were the loudest they’ve been all night.
“I think it helps that you have such nice muscles and proportions, you look like the perfect male,” you smirk as you feel your way up Jimin’s chest, smoothing your palm over his abs and flicking one of his nipples. Your/Jimin’s jacket is hanging in the crook of your other arm, you’re reluctant to put it back on until after your victory lap from being announced as the winners.
Jimin immediately grabs you by the wrist after the nip flick, “Don’t do that,” he reprimands gently and then he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder and trapping your arms under his embrace so your sly hands can’t feel him up some more. He has the two of you facing the stage as Jungkook and his girlfriend Sooyeon take the stage. Jungkook’s in the aforementioned bright red booty shorts but has somehow managed to find his devil horns and is using a red silicone spatula as a pitchfork. His girlfriend is dressed in a white lace babydoll nightie from Victoria’s secret and has a fuzzy white halo on, though her wings are nowhere to be seen.
“Who would vote for that,” scoffs Seokjin, materializing next to you two from out of nowhere, making Jimin let out a surprised shriek that he attempts to conceal by turning it into a deep grunt. “He stole that spatula from our kitchen.”
Yeah, all of you are judging their costumes hard. It’s easily the outfits where the least amount of effort was made. Every single person dressed as a Squid Game character looks better than them. Unlike you and Seokjin, who are embroiled in a heavy discussion of Halloween costumes, Jimin is distracted as he contemplates how to get snacks and get back to you before the announcement is made. When his perusal of the space makes his eyes catch on two gentlemen looking you up and down, their gazes trapped to your chest, he immediately makes you put the jacket back on. You smile at him thanking him, because God, there’s nothing worse than creepy unwanted attention. Like, why can’t men ever let you be a baddie in peace?
When the winner gets announced ten minutes later as Jungkook and Sooyeon, you start screeching and attempt to run up to the stage to fight the judges. Jimin, knowing what would happen if you lost, grabs a hold of you and hugs you to his chest as you kick and squirm. When you break a hold of Jimin’s grasp to lodge the apple from Jungkook that had remained in your jacket pocket this entire time at the aforementioned male, Jimin grabs onto you again, tightening his arms around you and locking you against him even harder. Beside you two, Namjoon is similarly enraged, having found the group with his girlfriend after the announcements were made. He says it screams rigged since Sooyeon is the chapter vice president, and his girlfriend lets him rant to her though it’s clear from the way she’s undressing his already half naked body with her eyes, she’s not listening to a word he’s saying.
As you glare at Jungkook, giving him a stink eye from where he’s accepting the dumb little trophy on stage, Jimin takes the chance to hike you up over his shoulder as he carries you away from the sorority. He keeps dragging your jacket down to cover your cute butt from where it is beside his head, not only because it distracts him while he’s walking but also because he doesn’t want any other perverts looking at it. Jimin is the only pervert that’s allowed to openly fawn over you.
You let him carry you this way halfway down the street before you start squirming and tell him you can walk by yourself. The male hesitantly lowers you beside him, watching you with narrowed eyes as you stalk forward, growling under your breath about stupid nepotism and how you could never hold a more important role at your sorority because you weren’t a legacy Pi Phi, wishing you had a dozen more apples you could aim at Jungkook and Sooyeon’s heads.
“Hey,” Jimin protests as he runs ahead to catch up to you, “Community outreach chair is very important too, Y/N. Don’t undersell yourself just because Sooyeon got all her friends to vote for her.”
“It’s not fair, Jimin—” you cut yourself off, clearly holding back the meaner things you wanted to say. Instead, you change the subject, “Are we really going to the haunted house, Jimin? Last year you abandoned me in a corn maze.”
“I didn’t abandon you,” Jimin argues immediately, still disagreeing with you a year later, his brown eyes glinting as he rolls them at you, “You got lost… in a maze… because it’s a maze. They’re designed that way.”
“You let go of my hand,” you pout, your lower lip quivering, the pale sparkly lipstick making it look like your mouth is covered in fairy dust.“You left me. I still have nightmares. I found a random ass crop circle. I was literally seconds away from being abducted by aliens,” You declare dramatically before then crossing your arms, frowning deeply though you don’t change paths and continue to walk in the direction of his fraternity.
“I won’t do that this time, Y/N, I promise. And this is just a basic frat run haunted house. It won't be anything like Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. Hobi hyung and Yoongi hyung got dragged into playing the role of the scarers. Hobi hyung is dressed as Edward Scissorhands but honestly, do you really think he is the type of person who is good at scaring others?” Jimin has to admit he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting the second you mentioned the crop circle and aliens. You are literally the most paranoid person he knows. Even worse than Hobi hyung although he knows you’ll disagree.
You furrow your brows, they got the resident scaredy cat Jung Hoseok to participate in the haunted house? Hoseok’s fear tolerance is much lower than yours. Last year, you and he ended up alone in Jimin’s apartment while Jimin went downstairs to pick up the pizza delivery and Hoseok ended up screaming his head off when the two of you saw a giant spider on the ceiling. He demanded that as his junior, you kill the creature – which you tried, but it only resulted in failure. After all, Jimin is the one that kills bugs in your relationship. When Jimin came back into the apartment, half of it was burned down from the two of your attempts. Well… not really, but you are exaggerating to make a point.
“Come on, Y/N, one quick run through the house and then we can go to my room on the next floor. I bought you snacks and we can watch Nightmare Before Christmas together,” he suggests biting down on his lip.
“Fine,” you whine, stomping with one of your pink leather encased feet, “But this time, no letting go of me!” And with that you speedily shuffle into Jimin’s arms and make him awkwardly walk with you the rest of the way since it felt like you two were practically conjoined with how close you remain to him the entire time.
“It’s going to be fun, Y/N,” Jimin murmurs as he takes out the tickets he got for you two earlier in the evening and hands them off to Taehyung who is manning the entrance as the clown from It. He has a face full of white makeup on and had even drawn on Pennywise’s terrifying red smile with the crimson paint running through his cheeks to cut right across his eyes and go into his forehead in two curvy lines from the end of his smile. The male had teased his blond hair into the shape of the dancing clown’s iconic hair before spraying with temporary orange hair chalk.
“For you,” you grumble, pointedly stepping around Jimin to his other side to avoid Taehyung and his unnerving costume, “But as long as you play the role of my dashing protective knight in shining armor, I shall try to persist.”
Beta Tau Sigma is the first male fraternity that was founded in your university. Though their massive mansion gets major renovations every five to ten years, the Victorian structure was built in the 1800s. So when the boys convert it into a spooky haunt, it is successfully terrifying.
From the moment you step in, fog clouds the interior, making you clamber to Jimin’s side, pressing into him when you can’t see more than five feet ahead of you clearly. To your utter dismay, the frat’s brothers have taken advantage of the location’s history and how it houses so many young individuals and made that the central theme for night. It is designed like a cross between an asylum and a school for troubled minds and Yoongi leaps out scaring the living shit out of you three minutes into your traipse through the first floor, dressed up as Hannibal Lector in his bright orange prison garb and tiger-esque hockey mask.
Jimin is, of course, unfazed. He stares at Yoongi with a wry lopsided smirk gracing his lips before striking a conversation with his hyung. You try to justify your reaction, and Jimin’s lack thereof, by convincing yourself that your boyfriend didn’t react because he already saw Yoongi today in his costume and you hadn’t, so your jump, followed by the screech that had you ducking your head into Jimin’s chest, was a reasonable reaction.
“Do you think I would be less scared if I closed my eyes and had you blindly direct me through this place?” you ask, seriously considering it, quickly flapping your shimmery blue lids shut.
“Don’t do that, Y/N, it’ll make the music seem even louder to you,” Jimin warns, as he gently pushes you forward so that the two of you can now make it up the stairs to the second floor.
Your neck hairs stand at his words as goosebumps take over your entire body. Now that Jimin has mentioned the music, you can hear the eerie Tethered remix of “I Got 5 On It” as it finishes off and is replaced with a creepy instrumental remix of Melanie Martinez’s “Carousel” as though the playlist is blasting in your ears, attacking your eardrums. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But, Jimin! I hate this,” you cry out, sharply snapping your eyes open, before you gingerly make your way up the stairs.
Each step is covered with fake cobwebs and as you move your legs the giant spider and snake decorations on the banisters and railings start to move, activated by motion sensors and making weird broken noises. It’s definitely not the scariest part of this entire thing but you flinch every time a fuzzy pincer or a plastic reptilian tail brushes against you and you find yourself dashing through the rest of the stairs though Jimin hurriedly calls out for you to wait for him.
At the landing for the next floor, you wait for your boyfriend and when he finally slings an arm around your shoulders, the two of you take off again. This floor has bedrooms, though, and some of the brothers that live on it have given up their spaces to be used as miniature themed scare rooms, though not every door is open and available for the public to walk into. You and Jimin make your way through one of them that has been set up to look like a medical operating room as well as another set up like a bedroom with screaming frat members strapped into beds with metal frames that try to grab you as you wake by them before the trouble starts.
Later, Jimin will say he told you not to move and wait for him while you will argue with him that you heard him say nothing so you moved on like everything was fine and dandy. You’re in a room that looks like an abandoned classroom or something of the sort when things go awry. You won’t be able to appreciate how they converted the study room until months later because you receive the worst fright of your life there.
As you make your way through the desks towards the whiteboard at the front, the lights flicker before turning off completely and then the room, that’s already cold from the air conditioning blasting throughout the entire fraternity, begins to fill with fog. When the lights turn back on five seconds later, you blink, seeing dark spots from the abrupt brightness. As your eyes focus, you let out an earth shattering scream when you notice that there are two grown ass men who are much taller and bigger than you dressed like the Grady Twins from The Shining, brown shoulder length wigs, light blue dresses, white stockings and all, standing two feet away from you looking both incredibly imposing and impossibly threatening.
You fall to the ground and let yourself crumble into a ball, wrapping your arms around your legs as you press your shiny cobalt eye-shadowed eyelids against your icy knees. Jimin bursts into the room a minute later, following the sound of your shriek and immediately drops down on the ground next to you to wrap his arms around you and hugs you to his chest, squishing your face, the part that's not pressed against your knees, against his shoulder. He cradles your head into him as he brushes his hand over your hair several times soothingly.
You can hear him gruffly asking Soobin and Yeonjun to take five and vacate the room. The underclassmen readily do so since Jimin is a vice president of the chapter this year. Unlike your sorority, which has one president and vice president and then several chairs, Jimin’s fraternity has three vice presidents since it has a much larger student body. Namjoon’s the president, of course, while Yoongi is the external vice president with Hoseok dealing with internal affairs. Jimin is the member development vice president and since rush is over, his workload is a little lighter than the other heads’ at the moment.
“Y/N, I told you not to leave me,” he chastises as he somehow manages to pick you up from the ground and carry you as you wrap yourself around his body like a koala, clinging to his front. You burrow your nose, which feels like an icicle, into his collarbone as you tighten your arms around his neck like a noose. Your boyfriend, feeling horrible about your scare, ignores the discomfort that comes from the frosty contact of your skin against his.
As Jimin grasps your thighs more securely, you cross your legs even more tightly over his hips, “You didn’t tell me anything! I thought you were with me the entire time,” you cry out. You have no idea how your mascara and eyeliner are holding up but you hope they keep their waterproof promise as you start to sob again.
He brushes a kiss across the top of your head before he unexpectedly rushes to spit out a plastic strand of hair out of his mouth, having forgotten that you were wearing a wig since it was so dark inside the mansion. “Y/N, I don’t want to play the blame game with you when you’re in distress but, sweetheart, you walked away from me in the corn maze too. Y/N, if I’m going to be holding your hand the entire way through so you don’t get scared, you can’t let go of my hand and then blame me when you get frightened later on,” he harps softly, trying to keep condemnation out of his voice.
You pause your crying to protest, “You let go of my hand!” You still haven’t quite regained your senses and you keep attacking Jimin, whether validly or not… who’s to say? One thing’s for sure: the shock from your fear is keeping you from reacting rationally.
“Y/N, I told you I was going to tie my shoes and to not move, didn’t you hear me?” he asks, walking through the rest of the attractions without any harassment from the scarers. He’s guessing that Soobin and Yeonjun told them to leave the two of you alone, or the sight of Jimin carrying his obviously distressed girlfriend throughout the second floor has the other scarers giving you two a wide breadth. Hoseok even walks in the opposite direction with his cool scissor hands as he sees Jimin going for the next flight of stairs to the floor that has his bedroom.
“I didn’t hear anything, baby,” you mumble honestly, biting on your lip again, the soft waxy pink from your lipstick having long been worn off, “I swear.”
Jimin squeezes you around the middle, “Maybe it was just a misunderstanding,” he seems willing to let it go. He obviously doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with you.
Though it would have been infinitely easier for him to get his keycard out and open his dorm door if he put you down, Jimin lets you cling to him and one handedly hunts for the card in his wallet and then pushes the door open wide with his back, allowing the two of you to enter.
“I’m gonna set you down on my bed and change out of this costume okay, Y/N?” he asks, “Just because the costume party and this didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean we have to end the night on a bad note, yeah? Take off your shoes and wig, baby, and put Disney+ on. I’m going to get the snacks I bought yesterday out.”
You stare at Jimin, forgetting to do as he’s told you as you gaze enraptured by his handsomeness and natural charisma. As you watch Jimin peel off his multicolored shirt and shorts to abandon them in favor of a pair of black sweats, he mischievously smirks at you, playfully winking and giving a little strip tease which then shifts to him dragging his hand down his bare abdomen as he cutely yet sexily performs a hip roll for you which ends with a violent hip thrust that makes it clear that even with how cold it’s been tonight, the male is already at half-mast and still growing, his arousal undeterred by the chill.
The light smile that has been gracing your face disappears when Jimin sinks to his knees before you to pull your pink leather pumps off and you unexpectedly find yourself bursting into tears, distraught from the immense kindness and care Jimin has shown you tonight. This results in your boyfriend looking sharply up at you in abrupt alarm, puppy eyes widened as a look of deep concern takes over his entire face.
Jimin wiggles his way in between your legs, standing on his knees which make him basically the same height as you even with you sitting on his bed which is much higher. His hands, a little red from earlier outside, are freezing as they palm your cheeks and swipe both of his thumbs under your eyes at the same time to wipe away the fallen tears.
“Y/N, you need to tell me what’s wrong, right now,” your boyfriend stresses as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his crooked tooth digging into the plump flesh. As he pulls your blond wig off your hair he continues, “Baby, you’ve been off all day and it’s been getting worse and worse. You’re crying. What is it? Did I break a boundary in the haunted house? You wouldn’t cry over not winning a contest, right?”
You pull the wig cap off your darker natural hair, undoing the bun and finger-combing through it. Your bottom lip quivers as you pointedly look away from Jimin. How can you tell him? It’s your burden, not his. But how can you not tell him? It’s been eating you up inside, keeping it all to yourself.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you confess, pulling Jimin’s hands off you to bury your face in your own as you sob loudly behind your palms. Even as your eyes leak with salty tears you’re unable to control, you know that Jimin’s probably looking at you in bewilderment and possibly a little frustration that he can’t fix this for you since you still haven’t told him what’s wrong. You wish you had a makeup wipe to rub off all the makeup on your face that’s getting muddled from your tears.
“Do what? That sounds like something you say to someone when you want to break up,” he angrily spits out.
That makes you peek out from behind the darkness and protection of your hands. You look at your boyfriend and he looks livid. He looks like you have completely blindsided him and as though he immensely resents you for it. His thick eyebrows are furrowed low and his plump rose colored lips are pressed into thin white lines. His eyes are tinged with red and watery as they hold in unshed tears and glare at you with hard brown irises full of indignation. He has his arms crossed over his bare chest as he backs away from you, standing stiffly as he stares you down and you already know he’s closing up and getting his guard up. Soon, he won’t listen to a word you say.
Shit. No. NO NO NO. You’re panicking immediately, your hand coming up to your mouth but you instantly force it aside, knowing you can’t bite your nails anxiously when your relationship is falling apart right before your eyes.
“Jimin, no—Jimin, I wouldn’t,” you stammer hurriedly, tripping over your words in your rush to get them out fast enough while Jimin still is open to hearing you out.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why did you have to stumble over your words like this? You can’t even talk properly, you think in disgust. You tried to blurt out your words fast enough so Jimin’s mood doesn’t darken over the heavy misunderstanding even more, but you can’t even speak.
NO! This can’t be happening to you two right now.
Finally you just scream out, the words frantically being pulled from your throat in your incredible frustration and distraughtness, “Jimin, I’m not breaking up with you. I swear to God. Jimin, I swear on my own fucking life, too!” You sob in anguish, “Jimin, please? Listen to me. I swear—I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Baby, please! This has nothing to do with you. Baby, this is just a miscommunication error—Please?” you implore, gulping and gasping in between every inconsolable plea, “I can’t lose you.”
“Tell me right now, Y/N,” Jimin spits out. His words are so hard they pierce through your heart like ice. He’s closing off, you despair. “I am so sick of today, Y/N. Maybe it’s gone on for even longer. I don’t like this month. We can’t continue like this.”
You ignore the anger that prickles through you. It’s not as though this is your fault entirely. He’s the one who is rude to you when you reach out. Maybe you’re more mad about him saying earlier that he didn’t want to talk than you thought. But this isn’t the moment for that fight. You need to rein in your temper and tell him what’s been eating you up inside. That thing with Jimin? It could be dealt with at another time.
You exhale shakily. It’s loud and uneven but you manage to get in and out a few more pulls of air before you attempt to talk to him. He stares at you stonily from where he’s perched against his wooden dresser the entire time. How has the night gone so wrong? Oh right—you ruined everything.
“This is humiliating, but. God, Jimin. I had to drop my Chemistry course. I was failing it,” you bitterly bite out, wiping away angry tears, “But it was far enough along in the semester that I couldn’t just drop it and enroll myself into another class to replace the units. And then I got a call from the financial aid office that this would drop my standing from a full-time to a part-time student this semester and I would have to pay them back part of my aid since they had disbursed it already, but part time students receive less money than full time students.
“And I thought it would be fine because, you know... I dropped a class and I suddenly opened my schedule up for more shifts and a second job.
“But God. My landlord increased our rent starting from October because he only lets us pay month to month in that stupid building and not have yearly leases. I never saw that as a problem before when I used to think it meant I could leave at any moment but... Pi Phi has gotten so fucking expensive too.”
You clamp down hard on your lips tasting wax and something vanilla-y from the remnants of your lipstick. As you think about Pi Phi, you are suddenly filled with a blistering rage. It causes you to growl out, “And I hate the stupid sorority, Jimin! They keep asking more and more out of me in every single way. They not only want my money but they want my time. My fucking blood, sweat, and tears.
“WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR A MEAL PLAN AT THE PI PHI HOUSE WHEN I DON’T EVEN LIVE THERE OR EAT THERE?” you suddenly lose even more of your cool, screaming about it for the first time. Finally able to unload your frustration at the events that have upended your entire life, “For the monthly chapter dinners??” you hiss and then venomously bite out, “Why aren’t the chapter events paid for with what they take from us in the form of dues already?!” It’s obvious you think you’re being swindled.
“I don’t have time either, Jimin. I picked up so many extra shifts for everything since I was low on cash after paying back the university. My grades have even started to suffer. What am I supposed to do? I’m trapped in this stupid sorority. I can’t leave or my children and I will be blacklisted from Pi Phi forever. I won’t have the damn connections I spent the last three years building when I start job hunting. And I already spent all that money and it’s gone down the drain if I leave.” you lividly brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, immensely chagrined at your delicate emotions and how you seem to be spilling tears at the drop of a hat, unable to control them.
“But, Jimin... I might be fucking homeless too if I can’t pick up shifts because of Pi Phi obligations. What am I supposed to do?”
Jimin rushes to you, basically tackling you as he wraps his arms around you and the two of you fall back onto the bed. Your hair is a dark halo around your head as Jimin squishes you into the mattress. “Y/N? My lovely Y/N. My precious angelic Y/N. My darling sweet Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” he murmurs as he brushes soft kisses all over your face as he overwhelms you with tender compliments to make up for earlier when he mistakenly accused you of attempting to break up with him.
“I don’t want handouts from you, Jimin,” you fiercely protest, your eyes still glittering from unshed liquid, “I know you. You can’t stand it when someone you love or care about is going through something terrible. You want to fix it immediately, You’re a problem solver but I’m not your damsel in distress, Jimin. This isn’t your burden to carry or your problem to solve.”
Jimin just smiles at you lightly, evidently your boyfriend feels incredibly terrible about his outburst earlier that had led to his unfounded accusations. He also smiles in an attempt to control his anger, since it shouldn’t be entirely directed at you anyways, so it comes out a little rough and toothy, “It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N. You might not be my damsel in distress to save but no one said you had to slay all your dragons by yourself.”
“I don’t want your money Jimin,” you push against his shoulder, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but his dumb muscled frame doesn’t move an inch. Why is he so strong and solid? You’re no longer appreciative of how he can cart you along without breaking a sweat.
“I wasn’t going to give you money but I do have an idea,” he admits, tightening his arms around you as he rolls the two of you around so he’s no longer suffocating you underneath him. You struggle against his hold but are unsuccessful at loosening it even though your chances of escape should have increased since you are no longer buried underneath him. Quickly, you give up and flop back onto him, resting your head on his hard pectoral muscles. You can hear his heartbeat and it feels terribly intimate, making you struggle once more restlessly. You can’t stand this overwhelming downpour of love and acceptance from Jimin when you’ve treated him like shit today and continuously implied that he had a tendency to ditch you in scary situations.
“No ideas. I can do it by myself,” you protest stubbornly, lightly banging your head against the smooth silken expanse of his chest. You eye the tanned surface with narrowed eyes and contemplate whether you should bite him to show your ire, leaving a crescent of teeth marks on one of his generously endowed pectorals. You will that urge away and sigh.
“But you don’t have to,” Jimin cheerfully sings, with your eyes snapped shut against his warm skin you can’t see his face, but you have no doubt that he’s smiling widely at the moment. “Clearly, you can’t manage the stress.”
“Don’t, Jimin,” you warn, turning your head to the side so your lips are right by a tender nipple before taking it between your teeth, rolling the nub between it and biting down roughly. Evidently, you don’t have remarkable restraint. “I’ll hate you forever.”
“That’s an interesting dilemma you’re presenting me,” Jimin grins through the pain though you felt his full body wince and the way his body flinched away from you when you bit him, making you smirk deviously. His voice takes on the same tone as when he makes you listen to the stupid shit his Philosophy professor makes them argue about which then results in Jimin forcing you to counteract all of his arguments before the debates in class. “I don’t think you’ll hate me for what I’m going to suggest. But you know what, Y/N? If I ever had the opportunity to save you from ruin but it would result in you resenting me, I think I would still do it. I love you too much to let you live in misery.”
“I’m only in misery when I don’t have you, Jimin,” you disagree, pouting, “Everything else doesn’t matter.”
“Great,” Jimin grins, smacking a loud kiss against your lips, taking advantage of how enticing your puckered up lips look, rubbing off the remnants of your lipstick even more, “You’re gonna love my suggestion.”
“Ugh,” you groan in defeat, “Fine, let's hear it.”
“Let me move in with you.”
“Absolutely not!” you immediately protest, slapping a beefy bicep, and then pinching it lightly because that’s a dumb idea. No. He’s not moving in with you.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on. I spend more time at your apartment than my frat because you can’t fall asleep when you’re alone. You think someone is going to break in and murder you. You desperately need a roommate, or a better long term solution, and who is better than the guy who already spends so much time at your place that he should’ve probably started paying rent all the way back to August? Y/N, you spend so much money buying groceries that I end up finishing because you feel bad for making me spend nights with you that you feel like you have to pay me in ‘dinner and sex.’ Which, by the way, I don’t need constant food and sex, Y/N. I mean it’s nice but you’re not obligated to fulfill both those needs every time I’m at your place.”
“Jimin, you already paid for the entire year at your frat. You’re the vice president. You need to stay on deck at all times. You’re so important to Beta Tau,” you were not going to let Jimin waste money on an empty dorm. You knew how expensive Panhellenic housing was. Jimin probably paid for an exorbitantly expensive meal plan too. You ignore the comments about the food and the sex. You and Jimin cannot last more than five days without touching each other. Also, despite what Jimin says, he fully believes that you make the best Korean food out of anyone he knows at university. He’d probably wither and die if he had to live without your cooking since his diet otherwise consists solely of greasy takeout and energy drinks.
“First of all I’m a vice president not the vice president. Also, officers actually get free housing. That’s why the elections are so stiff every year. It’s the same reason that most of us decide to stay here instead of getting an apartment. We’re not being forced to stay and there’s no evil landlords trying to hike rent up illegally. Besides, it’s likely that a sophomore is going to be praising God the second he gets notified he got taken off the housing waitlist because a room just opened up. And it’s a single! Only officers get singles. Let me make that guy’s entire year, Y/N.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” you shyly mumble, looking down at Jimin’s chest and the glittering jewelry on his nipples to avoid eye contact.
“Mmhmm,” Jimin agrees, placing two fingers under your jaw and tilting your face up, “Let me help you,” he whispers across your lips before pressing them against his own.
You break apart from the languid kiss to gasp softly, your breathing still raggedly from your crying earlier, and finally concede, “Okay.”
And just like that. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Now that your boyfriend is under the understanding that he has just fixed everything, caring thoughtful Jimin goes away as horny wicked Jimin takes his place.
The look Jimin casts over your entire body as his darkened brown eyes nonchalantly track their way down is diabolical. He has no idea how your body suit is staying attached to your chest when its cut down the middle to your navel and he immediately has both of his hands going up to your breasts to cup them – his fingers slipping into your bodice, gripping onto the sparkly blue cloth before he roughly pulls them off the soft mounds. You glare at him as the sticky tape you used to keep the cups in position gets pulled off your body, leaving red marks on your skin where the adhesive had been.
Jimin ducks his head down, nosing your puffy nipples that begin to tighten once exposed to the chilly air, in apology. As his nose brushes against the sensitive nubs, hardening them, his mouth seeks those agitated red patches of skin, swiping fat strokes with his tongue over them, massaging in wet circles with its tip, as he sloppily layers them in his spit, soothing the flesh before puckering his lips around the sore areas, sucking on them until the marks darken into more vivid reds and purples, sometimes even adding the sharp bite of his teeth to deepen their permanence. He kisses all around your breasts, leaving marks from all over, even on the valley in between – almost as though he wants to make sure you can’t wear anything low cut or this daring without everyone seeing how you are his like he is yours.
You rake your nails down his back when you realize that, scoffing at how he’s still possessive almost three years into your relationship. Jimin looks up at you as he feels your nails dimpling into his skin, a shy but proud lopsided smile on his swollen, fuschia colored lips. He’s so fucking unapologetic. You roll your eyes before you return his grin and it’s only then that he returns his attention to your breasts, finally wrapping his lips around a pebbled peak, gently nipping them before his cheeks hollow out from the force that he’s sucking them, suddenly taken over by desperation. He swathes his tongue over and over the hard nub, before deciding to drag his teeth along the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth and then closing down, making you squeal, your head lolling to the side.
His intensity has you losing your mind underneath him. You writhe restlessly beneath Jimin’s body, your limbs spasming while your hips keep surging up, knocking against Jimin’s front frantically, seeking friction in vain. The stupid thick cloth of his dark colored sweatpants don’t let you feel anything but the faint shadow of Jimin’s dick, despite all your frantic bucking.
“Jimin,” you cry out in frustration, “Jimin!” You don’t even know what you want. Do you want him to take his pants off and furiously rut against you through your panties? Or do you want him to stop making you fall apart into pieces with his mouth that doesn’t cease its relentless besiege on your breasts?
Your boyfriend hears you, though, and it has him backing away from your body so he can look down at you to figure out the dimensions of your costume and how the fuck to get that thing off of you so you can be completely nude in his bed. You immediately whimper at the loss of contact. Jimin’s like a furnace and without his body covering you or his hot mouth against your skin, you can now feel the chill in his room which has not been excluded from the icy drafts that the fraternity has blasting through the mansion with the aid of central air conditioning to further the intensity of their haunted house. The entire place is temperature controlled which means the only thing Jimin can do to keep you warm is to wrap his frame around you since both of you are unwilling, at the moment, to put on more layers.
When Jimin finally rips the bright turquoise suit off, you’re left in only your mesh thong – the panties are made up of a diaphanous pink fabric that covers your mound, but lets Jimin see everything underneath as the golden tint to your skin peaks out through the cloth, and is edged with a lime green scalloped ribbon that has a cute little green bow on the center. Jimin can even see how the swath of fabric that’s pressed against your folds is darker from how wet you are, dripping into the material, deepening the color. “I love how you matched your panties to your leg warmers, Y/N. That eager to have sex with me tonight? You already creamed, no oops – screamed, them, and we’ve barely done anything,” Jimin goads, shamelessly staring down at you, his lips curling up devilishly as he can see the visible effect he has on your body.
“I always want to have sex with you,” you shrug blasély, unashamed of your desire and immune to Jimin’s taunts after so many years. He doesn’t embarrass you with how vulgar and descriptive he gets anymore.
But when Jimin starts to pump his fingers through your folds, the incessant speed and fervor has you whimpering to the point that you have to purse your lips in an attempt to conceal them. Jimin’s prodding fingers leave your pussy revealing that it has completely soaked them, making the male hold his hand up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pads of his fingers as he rejoices in your delicious taste.
“Come here, baby,” Jimin hums, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling warmly as he lulls you into a false sense of confidence. His fingers wrap around your smooth, shaven calves, gently dragging your cotton leg warmers down your legs.
In the blink of an eye, before you can even realize what has fully happened, your boyfriend has tied you up with those dumb multicolored striped pieces of fabric to his headboard. Your hands are bound together at the wrists and then closely tied to one of the headposts, limiting your upper range of motion. The most you can do is buck up, your back arching as you struggle and your legs kick about, but then even that motion becomes limited as Jimin straddles your abdomen. He’s up on his knees, his legs on either side of you and then the male pushes his black sweats and the navy boxer briefs he had worn for the party, so that he wouldn’t flash anyone in those tight costume shorts, halfway down his bulging muscled thighs, moving up your body until the pinkened mushroom head of his dick nudges against your lips, wordlessly telling you to part them.
Feeling defiant, you turn your face to the right and the precum that was beading the head of his cock smears against your cheek at the sudden movement. Your entire face heats up at that, a scarlet flush deepening the color of your cheeks, reddening your throat and décolletage.
“Y/N,” Jimin growls lowly, biting harshly down on the inside of his cheek and that’s all it takes for you to reposition your head, though you glare at him before you slowly spread apart your lips and take in just the bulbous tip into the warm wet cavern of your mouth. You suckle it languidly, focusing on just that part for a moment, twirling your tongue around it and sucking it hard, the point of your tongue poking the slit and eagerly lapping up every bit of precum that leaks out.
But soon you get into it, your neck stretching as you eagerly attempt to take in more of his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your lips over it. His tip drags against the roof of your mouth and you splutter in frustration around his cock that you can’t move enough to get even more of his length down your throat. At that Jimin moves even more up your chest, his bony knees almost digging into your armpits since your arms are thrown over your head in their tied position, though he carefully keeps himself perched so none of his weight is pressing down on your delicate rib cage. The male leans one of his arms back to rest his weight on his hand which is fisting his sheets, his fingers digging into his mattress while your actions pick up fervor as you eagerly bob your head forward to enthusiastically deep throat him. His other hand blindly reaches behind him in the direction of your folds, traveling down your continuously clenching tummy and pelvis, the delicate digits traversing the tightened muscles to successfully find the opening to your core, his thumb brutally pressing down on your pulsating clit, striving to hurl you towards release as you do the same to him.
His thumb furiously rubs at that sensitive bud while his other fingers roam your folds, two of them breaching your entrance to plunge into your gushing center, thick digits knuckle deep as he multitasks, pumping two of them in and out of you, curling them up with his fingertips brushing against the furled grooves of your walls, his hard fingernails raking against your insides to making you wail in discontent as his thumb keeps building up that pressured assault against your battered clit.
Meanwhile, you’re gagging on his cock as it sits heavily on your tongue, allowing you to feel the protruding vein along the underside, jutting further into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat, stabbing your tonsils. You curl your tongue upwards, trying to follow the path of the vein with the tip. The ribbed, warm skin of his shaft against your tongue makes you salivate, drool dripping out your lips while you similarly drench yourself down south as a flood of arousal flows through your core.
But after a moment Jimin snarls, “No,” in frustration, his flushed forehead scrunched up as he seeks something more, something that will perhaps yield more satisfaction and result in greater relief, moving off of your body to agitatedly pull at the fabric of his pants, shredding them off completely.
When the male returns to you, completely nude, all warm peach, soft cream and blush pink shades, he decides to straddle you in the opposite direction, facing away from you. He grips your thighs firmly to maneuver your legs in a bent position, his palms feeling rough as they grasp onto the round globes of your ass to lift your pelvis off the bed, making your back arch as your pussy becomes level with Jimin’s mouth so that he can eat you out. He slides backwards after he properly positions you like you’re his feast so that you can once again take his dick in your mouth, allowing the two of you to properly sixty-nine.
Jimin’s cock twitches in your mouth in excitement and you quickly suckle it to keep it from jerking unexpectedly again, slowly teasing it and building up the pressure. As you keep things slow, Jimin shudders against your mons, his breath seeping through the mesh fabric of your thong, falling over your sensitive skin and making you get goosebumps all over. His lips close over your engorged clit through your panties, sucking so hard he wets the material so heavily it becomes transparent. But after a moment he abandons it, using his nose to nudge the cloth aside so that your folds are finally bare before he eagerly sets in. He sloppily licks fat stripes from your clit to your core, jabbing the tip of his tongue into you, nipping at your petaled folds. In his hunger, he doesn’t realize that he is slowly moving away from your mouth until your lips frantically wrap themselves around his mushroom tip, as you struggle to keep him in your mouth, back to only being able to suck on that upper part of his shaft. He grips your thighs even more soundly, slurping at your juices as your thighs quiver and jiggle on either side of his face. He can’t get enough of how you taste, his grunts mingling with your lustful moans and whimpers that pierce through the air. It doesn’t take him long before he successfully catapults you into a powerful climax, your soft thighs trapping his head as they close around it. Jimin ignores the constraint, sniffing at your delicious scent, lapping at your folds until he has successfully slurped up every bit of your orgasm.
When he releases his grip on your ass, no longer holding you up, your legs unbend, falling as you can no longer hold the position on your own due to the current jellylike state of your limbs. He climbs off your body to sit beside you, his back against the headboard as he finally takes off the bindings around your wrists. The second you’re free, you don’t get a chance to do much before you find yourself hauled up by Jimin and dumped on his lap, your still sensitive cunt brushing against his painfully hard dick as your thighs bracket his, making you twitch in his embrace.
You face him, taking in the messed up hair, voluminous and in disarray, the puffy reddened lips, and the coral colored flush that overtakes his skin from his ears to his cheeks to the entirety of his throat. He looks delirious, so terribly fucked out, and when you eagerly seek to touch his plush lips with your own red bitten ones, his eyes close softly, his black eye lashes fluttering closed as he lets out a blissful sigh. The kiss is earnest and gentle, Jimin’s fingers lightly twitching against your chin as they delicately grip it. “I love you,” you hum into the kiss, when you break apart for the smallest of moments, your lips trembling against his.
His heart skips a beat at your sincere declaration, blood surging to both his cheeks and his cock as he becomes even more maddened at those words, filled with an overflowing amount of love and lust for you as they take over his mind and make him lose control. He leans more deeply into the kiss, intensely passing his lips over yours again and again, too restless and greedy to let you part for a second or breath.
You’re his, he’s yours; he will never let you two be anyone else’s. This is forever for him.
“Ride me, Y/N?” he begs, when he finally is able to let you go, comforted by how your arms are wound tightly around his frame. His gray hair is darkened at the roots to a sooty charcoal color from how much he’s sweating even in this freezing room and as you brush it back, away from how they’ve fallen into his eye line, he murmurs, “At least in the beginning. Please, baby.”
You press your hands against his chest, your palms brushing against the rock hard points of his nipples as you lift your ass off his lap. You ask Jimin to help line your folds up with his cock because you’re too busy with your sudden obsession with the furled buds of his dark mauvy brown nipples. You find yourself too busy flicking them and rolling them between your forefinger and thumb, to be bothered to make sure that his cock would enter your opening. Honestly, if Jimin left you to your own devices, distracted as you are by the pretty shiny jewelry adorning his pecs – you would probably just absentmindedly sit down on him, rubbing your pussy against his length, too lazy to make sure he was actually penetrating you with his fat cock, fine with just getting off by humping each other.
You continue to swirl your tongue around the beaded nubs. Jimin hisses and groans when you nudge the metal ends of his piercings with the pointed tip of your tongue. The hardness of the platinum bars brushing against your taste buds seem so at odds with the silkiness of Jimin’s skin and you find yourself moaning as you lick up his chest, your tongue capturing the saltiness of his sweat on it.
Jimin sighs as he continues to let you dart little kitten licks against the hard points of his nipples. It always surprises him just how similar he and you are. You say it’s because he’s a Libra and you’re an Aquarius and that makes you both air signs, but honestly – he doesn’t know. What he does think is that he’s glad you two still get along, even though not only do you both have the same personalities down to a tee, the two of you often blow your lids at the most random things – fortunately, it’s usually not over the same things. But you both are also infatuated with the exact same features on each other, often wanting to perform the exact same sexual act on each other, even if you guys sometimes have to determine an order when it’s not possible to do it simultaneously.
He can’t blame you for wanting to suck his nipples right now when he spent over an hour with his face pressed to your breasts earlier in the afternoon, at one point even motorboating you until you shoved him away rolling your eyes, pretending it wasn’t enjoyable for you at all. This means that he'll happily let you hum against his sweat slickened skin in pleasure as you lick and nibble while he grabs ahold of your shapely hips and makes you slide up and down against his length. When you finally stop your adoration of Jimin’s chest, you sheepishly take back control and increase your speed, enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his dick, using his shoulders to clutch onto.
As the pace picks up momentum, you get sloppier, resulting in his cock dragging against your folds roughly. It makes you mewl mindlessly and Jimin moves his hands away from your hips now that you’ve taken back the reins. Instead, his hands go upwards, fingers knotting themselves into your hair as his palms cradle the back of your head, he gently nudges your head forward with his hands, guiding you towards his lips before you meet them in a desperate kiss that has you both sighing intermittently against each other’s mouth.
It’s taking you more and more effort to lift yourself off his cock and fall down onto it again as your thighs tighten with another approaching orgasm. When Jimin finally notices your struggles, he quickly rolls the two of you around so that he’s on top of you and you’re lying on your back with your legs wrapped high around his waist as he energetically jackhammers into you with tight, lethal snaps of his hips, keeping up a furious pace. His fat, monstrous length pounds into you again and again as you mindlessly rake your nails down his back, struggling to find purchase. He rams his cock into your hole as your walls quiver and tighten around him, reluctant to let him go.
Too enraptured by your beauty as he is full of both love and lust, it’s not enough for Jimin to just stare down at you, maintaining eye contact as he snaps his hips, pistoning into you. No, Jimin has to remain busy, giving you as much pleasure as possible, and so his head ducks low, wetly and messily kissing and biting his way from your throat to the expanse of your chest, littering your smooth skin with even more torrid love bites and hickeys. It’s fortunate that it is sweater weather because there is no way you can wear a bikini top without showing everyone the, at least, twenty impassioned marks that stain your skin as proof of Jimin’s adoration and devotion. His hand also sneaks its way down to increase the intensity, fiercely rubbing your clit to stimulate you. This time when you come, you squirt, drenching Jimin’s bed sheets. And all it takes is you gushing around him from your orgasm for your boyfriend to come powerfully inside you, collapsing onto your frame.
For a long moment, you let Jimin crush your body under his weight, welcoming the closeness and how his skin sticks and clings to yours with how sweaty you both have become. You tighten your legs even further around his hips, keeping his warm cock buried within you for as long as you can, but when it starts to erratically twitch from the overstimulation, you know it’s time for Jimin’s exhausted cock to pull out.
“Shower with me?” Jimin whispers against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. All of your senses are still overwhelmingly heightened after that second orgasm, “We can use up all of the hot water since they turned on the fucking A/C even though it’s almost winter.”
You let Jimin pull you along to the ensuite bathroom, both of you thanking God that he’s an officer who gets several privileges. Jimin lets you remain a little longer in the shower than himself, escaping early since you two couldn’t agree on the temperature. You had wanted it warmer than he did and he could only stand it for so long. You use the time to scrub every bit of Halloween makeup off your skin. As the water runs a bluish gray, you wonder how the fuck Jimin had sex with you when you looked properly fucked out and a right mess with your makeup running all over your face. Surely you could not have looked very pretty. You bite your lip, making yourself blush, but Jimin certainly must’ve thought you did with the way he kept staring at you the entire time. The heat of a thousand suns were behind his eyes as his eyes swept over your body and locked with yours.
When you exit the bathroom, in an oversized fuzzy Beta Tau crewneck that belongs to your boyfriend and one of his thicker pairs of sweats, your hair is blown dry since you didn’t want to drip water onto Jimin’s bed, wetting the sheets, when it was already so cold. Looking over the room, you find that Jimin has changed his bedding so it no longer has the evidence of his cum and your squirting splattering it.
Jimin’s already on top of the new sheets with, what do you know, Toy Story 3 all queued up on Disney+, though you know he takes any and all opportunity to rewatch The Nightmare Before Christmas that he can. The male hurriedly opens his arms out wide for you when he notices that you’re back in the room and you launch yourself into his embrace. Once you’re comfortable with your back pressed against his chest, he covers the two of you with his thick, warm blankets.
“Jimin?” you ask, twirling a flat lock of hair. Unless you style it, your freshly washed hair never has any volume.
“Yes, baby?” he answers dutifully, kissing your forehead. He’s warm and cozy, smelling like orange blossoms and citrus trees, both floral and woody and you love it, inhaling deeply.
“Can you come over on Sunday? I want to eat dinner together with you,” you admit, pulling the sleeves of his crewneck until your fingers are no longer visible and you have sweaterpaws.
“Depends on what you make,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.
But you don’t realize, answering him seriously with thoughtful consideration to your dinner menu, “I was thinking I could make kimchi jjigae and maybe also dakgalbi?”
“Y/N, I was gonna be there with you regardless,” Jimin murmurs, raking his hand through his hair, pushing back the long straight strands of gunmetal colored hair from falling over his eyes and impeding his vision, “I’ll start moving in from tomorrow but it might be a little hard since I have rehearsal and then the actual showcase in the evening. But I figured I could get a huge chunk done on Sunday. Of course, I’ll eat dinner with my baby.”
“Jimin?”
“Yes, baby?” Jimin giggles before grinning at how you keep hesitantly repeating his name first before just saying whatever you wanted to tell him.
“I love you very much,” you admit, shyly, worrying your teeth over your lips that are covered with Jimin’s cherry chapstick you found on his sink’s counter. It’s not gross to share lip balm when you two are always kissing anyway. At least this way, neither of your lips are ever chapped and flaking.
“I know, baby. I love you, too. I’m sorry about snapping at you on Tuesday when you brought me food,” he confesses, his hands sliding up and down your arms, attempting to increase the friction to warm you up as you curl into his form.
“Oh. No, baby. That’s okay. It’s already forgotten, don't worry about that.”
“Yeah?” Jimin asks, hugging you tightly from the back, burrowing his nose into your hair. It smells like his Aromatica shampoo and you.
“Of course. You were just under a lot of pressure from midterms, baby. Don’t fret.”
“Yeah?” Jimin repeats, quirking his eyebrows playfully, “So you know that I don’t hold anything that happened today against you, right? Let’s just move forward, baby.”
“Oh, I see,” you opine, “This was a trap.”
“Don’t look at it that way,” suggests Jimin, cackling his head off, his cheeks stretched high and his eyes closing in the shape of half moons that are edged with his long dark lashes, “It’s a testament of my love for you.”
“What a forgiving and reasonable boyfriend I have,” you giggle, playing along, knocking your shoulder back into his chest, “He’s probably the best boyfriend to ever exist.”
“He is,” Jimin agrees.
“And I love him so much,” you declare, punctuating your statement with a happy kiss.
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This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License
©OPALJM 2021
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taejinnies · 6 months ago
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their stylists deserve a raise for this look | for @euphhorias
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hobis-suga · 6 months ago
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he is the only one that matters....
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