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ggukiepie · 1 day
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Will you publish the third part of the "fuck buddy jk" au? I can't be left hanging anymore 😭😭😭😭😭 it was just too good
hiiii yes im currently writing it! so sorry for the delay life has been pretty hectic, but im trying to write as much as i can 🥹
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ggukiepie · 6 days
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t h e b o y i s m i n e
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⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too
⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k
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‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.
“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..
Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.
“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.
What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.
“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”
You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”
Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”
Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.
“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.
“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”
You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.
“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.
Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.
“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.
You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.
“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.
Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”
“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.
Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.
Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.
“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.
Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”
His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”
“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.
Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”
Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”
“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.
Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.
.
(Not even an hour later.)
“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.
Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).
“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.
“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.
You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.
“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”
“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.
Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..
“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).
Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.
You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.
“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.
“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.
“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.
You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.
“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.
You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.
“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”
“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.
Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.
You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.
You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.
“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”
Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.
He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.
“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.
He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.
Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.
He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.
You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.
“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”
You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.
“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”
You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.
“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.
Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.
Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.
“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”
Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”
You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.
“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.
“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.
“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.
“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.
In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.
“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.
Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”
Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.
“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.
His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.
+
You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.
You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.
So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.
You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.
“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.
Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.
You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.
“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.
“Jungkookie–”
“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”
“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”
He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”
“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”
You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.
Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.
“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.
His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.
You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.
“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.
You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?
You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.
“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.
“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.
.
“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.
Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.
Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.
“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.
“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”
You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”
“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”
“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.
You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.
Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.
“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.
Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.
“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.
“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”
“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”
You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.
With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.
“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.
It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.
You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.
“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.
“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”
Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.
“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.
“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It��s like you didn’t even have to try with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.
You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”
+
Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..
Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.
Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.
“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.
He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.
Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.
“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.
There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.
“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?
The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.
“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.
You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.
He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..
You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.
You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.
Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..
Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.
“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.
You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.
“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.
You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.
Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.
You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.
“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.
“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.
You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.
Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.
“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.
Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.
“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”
Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”
You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”
“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.
You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.
Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.
“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.
Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”
You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.
Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.
“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.
“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.
You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.
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ggukiepie · 10 days
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I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 18.4k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up. 
It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.
This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights. 
His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace. 
While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp. 
That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.
You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.
So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction. 
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”
“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”
“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.
“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.
“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”
“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”
“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”
“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”
“I’ll wash up then.”
You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.
“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”
“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”
Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.
He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you. 
You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.
He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.
“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”
“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.” 
“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.
“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”
You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture. 
Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too. 
There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having. 
“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget. 
“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”
You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest. 
He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.
You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.
You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel. 
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Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon. 
Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor. 
You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have. 
It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.
“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”
“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”
“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”
He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”
“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”
“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”
He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out. 
You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table. 
For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday. 
Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.
Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic. 
Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.
But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.
“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting. 
“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”
“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.
The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.
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You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had. 
It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos. 
You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile. 
The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then. 
Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.
“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”
“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.” 
It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.
“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”
“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”
His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.
“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”
“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”
Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental. 
But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more? 
The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.
You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.
“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows. 
“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.
“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”
“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”
“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”
“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs. 
“You should savor that, too.”
“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”
“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”
“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”
“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.
“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.
“That depends.”
“On what?” He asks.
“If they have a reason to,” you shrug. 
Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty. 
He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.
Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be. 
In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.  
But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible. 
He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.
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You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living. 
You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed. 
It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it. 
But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops. 
And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.
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The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you. 
You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so. 
There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel. 
You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine. 
“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you. 
“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.” 
“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.
“I will. Get home safely, you two.”
You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road. 
There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying. 
After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.
The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.
It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.
“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour. 
“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”
“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”
“Are you driving?”
“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice. 
You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells. 
“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”
“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”
“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!” 
“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”
“You don’t know that,” you stammer.
“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”
“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”
“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”
Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.
“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.
He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.
“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”
You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.
“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”
Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel. 
“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.
Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.
The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.
Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open. 
You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”
You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath. 
“Have you had dinner? He asks.
“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”
“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”
“Okay,” you look at him and smile. 
Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too. 
“Is that better?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”
His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.
You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.
“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.
“Just a little,” he teases.
He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage. 
She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance. 
You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.
He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.
“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.
“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”
“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”
“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes. 
“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”
“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”
“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”
“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”
His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide. 
You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm. 
You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.
Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you. 
In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around. 
On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.
But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.
So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.
You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt. 
His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.
You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.
As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”
“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do. 
The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it. 
You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.
“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”
“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”
“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”
He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced. 
“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself. 
But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you. 
He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.
The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.
“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.
“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.
“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”
“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own. 
It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.
“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”
“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”
“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters. 
You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.
“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”
“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”
You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.
You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet. 
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You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.
“Hello?”
“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.
“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”
“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”
“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”
“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”
“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”
“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”
“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”
He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.
“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.
“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.
“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”
Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.
He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.
“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.
“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments. 
“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.
“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”
“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”
Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.
The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could. 
You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.
You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago. 
You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief. 
Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it. 
Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.
You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile. 
“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”
He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”
“Not intimidating.”
“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”
“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”
You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.
“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.
“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”
“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”
It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish. 
But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this. 
You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.
“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”
He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him. 
He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures. 
The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear. 
“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”
“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”
“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”
“Good, that’s what I hoped.”
Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.
But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.
“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put. 
“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him. 
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”
“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.” 
He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well. 
“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”
“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”
“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs. 
“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”
Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.
You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.
The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused. 
Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.
“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”
You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit. 
“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”
“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”
“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense. 
Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.
Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.
“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime. 
Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.
“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.
“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.
You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.
“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”
“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”
“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”
“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”
“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”
“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”
“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”
“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”
You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.
You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him. 
“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”
“Let me walk you there,” you smile. 
He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.
“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.
“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”
“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”
“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”
“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease. 
“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away. 
“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”
Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.
“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”
You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”
“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”
“You did, huh?”
“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”
“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”
“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”
It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.
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Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.
Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too. 
“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”
“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”
“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.
Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.
“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.
“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters. 
“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”
“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”
“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.
“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”
Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.
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You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels. 
Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning. 
Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.
Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project. 
You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot. 
It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.
You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air. 
“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.
“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”
“What? Going on a road trip?”
“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”
“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”
He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago. 
“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”
“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”
“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”
There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.
You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process. 
It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.
Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.
“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice. 
“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information. 
Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.
Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you. 
A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about. 
So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.
“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”
He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.
“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”
His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options. 
“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”
He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be. 
He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.
You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.
You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms. 
“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”
“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same. 
The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.
“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”
“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.
He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”
“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”
“It’s happened before,” you shrug.
“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”
You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.
“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”
You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.
You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down. 
“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.” 
He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.
You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.
Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.
The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.
Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare. 
Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up. 
“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”
He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering. 
You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear. 
“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.
He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.
“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together. 
You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again. 
“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.
“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.
“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”
He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.
But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.
You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.
Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.
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The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over. 
You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.
“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”
You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.
“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”
Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.
“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”
“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”
“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with. 
It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. 
But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.
“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”
“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”
He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.
“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”
You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new. 
You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.
Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.
“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”
Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.
He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.
“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”
“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.
“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you. 
“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”
“That makes one of us,” he sighs. 
“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”
“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”
“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”
“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”
“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.
“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you. 
The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.
“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.
“And what would that do?”
“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”
He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.
Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.
The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.
He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.
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ggukiepie · 10 days
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some of my favorite moments of yoongi pushing his hair back at d-day tour concerts 😳 (cr. taee and jimimn) HAPPY YOONGI DAY ♡
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ggukiepie · 14 days
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strawberry kisses 🍓⊹。ෆ | JJK (18+)
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♡chapters: one / two / three / four / drabble♡
​⊹🍓series ❤︎ ˚ ༘ ⋆
❥pairing: badboy!jungkook X virgin!reader // black!reader
❥genre: acquaint. to lovers AU, university AU, angst, drama, smut
❥summary: Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
❥!!warnings!!: very descriptive virgin talk, reader is a ‘pure’ virgin [hymen], ‘virginity’, ‘v-card’, being scared about sex, eventual slight yandere jungkook, allusions to unsafe decisions and past toxic relationships [PLEASE ADHERE❣️]
❥other warnings: oral fem receiving, fingering, heavy petting, exhibitionism, sex sex sex on reader’s mind 24/7, plotting, princess nickname, fuckboy AND badboy jungkook⭐️, stoner jungkook, weed, alcohol, jungkook’s an undercover munch okay, and some shit he says and thinks is very vulgar, light choking, brown coochie desc [cause yeah tee hee], ‘strawberry’ used a lot, first time experiences, grunge/2000s vibe for their appearances and setting, grunge hottie with a y2k babe🎀
❥word count: 10.8k
-inspo: gif from btsjkgifs on tweet
-jungkook’s weed playlist: so high- dc | party girls- jeremih ft ludacris | into it, swim- chase atlantic | in for it remix
-author’s note: I finally got an actual virgin fic started cause I feel like phony virgins or determined virgins don’t get much show time in fics. Usually they’re shy and innocent, but I wanted insert to be that AND very set on what she wanted. I think it’s more realistic this way with how I wanted Jungkook’s character to compliment hers. Plus, I already did a corruption style type for Angel.
I hope you enjoy this and look forward to the next part! I can’t wait to finish 💗
——————————————୨♥︎୧——————————————
🍓⊹。ෆ
Jungkook was not the best influence on you.
In just a few months, you skipped more classes than you ever had in your academic life, started going to parties, dabbled in a harmless drug, and got stuck with a needle and ink for your first tattoo that signified this phase.
The stick-n-poke Jungkook did on your thigh wasn’t going to last forever—just as you suspected the friendship. It was lined perfectly though, as he was secretly artistic and a perfectionist.
It felt intimate, since you’d done one on him as well. A spider with a jagged abdomen and seven legs was hidden amongst his growing tattoo sleeve... He didn’t get it. Why you chose a sneaky arachnid as the symbol you saw fit for him, you mean. But he laughed and taunted you about your childish drawing skills, admiring your focused face as you carefully poked across his skin that night by the lake.
In your mind, Jungkook was the spider in your tame and boring life when the friendship started. Dangerous and cunning. You, the curious butterfly—like the ink on your thigh—that got too close to his web. All the hang outs and late nights were him spinning you in silk, around and around until he finally had you stuck and unmoving. He wouldn’t strike unless you moved first to get away.
Then he’d take what he wanted.
And you’d let him.
🍓⊹。ෆ————————————————————————୨♥︎୧
The sexual tension between you and Jeon Jungkook was too high to ignore it.
But what did anyone expect to come from a blossoming friendship between a ran-through fuckboy with an attitude problem and a phony virgin.
There were lots of lingering touches and kisses and heavy petting to the point that was all you could think about instead of college work. You were more worried about having Jungkook balls-deep inside you rather than your next exam, experimenting on smoking weed or hitting his vape pen with him until morning.
Despite how fucked up he is, he’d been hooked on your mind since the day you met him. He was the one in all black with the tattoo sleeve, the piercings on his face, and a dark gaze that told you he wanted to do really bad shit to you.
Yeah. That guy.
Notorious badboy who lives faithfully by an “I don’t eat pussy” motto that doesn’t deter him from fucking anyone because he’s just that damn delicious to look at. He likes to get his dick wet with no strings attached and no promised special treatment in return.
Maybe it’s a bit misogynistic that he’ll gladly receive head and won’t give it, but he started lining up too specifically with your sexual desires, so you stayed around.
See, Jungkook keeps to himself. He’s a hit-it-and-quit-it, but his hookups are only known because they brag about how big and good of a fuck he is. Surely, he’d just give you the dick and leave. He wouldn’t boast about gaining another body nor would he name drop. Your not-so-innocent deed would remain a secret.
You’ve kissed quite a few guys up until junior year, some nerds that weren’t too shy to stick their tongue down your throat in the back of the campus library, but no one’s gotten far. Hell, Jungkook hasn’t gotten that far himself. Fondling you through your bra is nothing compared to the many girls he’s banged into oblivion.
Nonetheless, the asshole respects your boundaries. He can get real sex whenever he wants. You’re just a fun filler in-between his other hookups, a girl playing hard to get. He enjoys kissing on the cute, shy babe he sits next to in a math class he barely attends. Gets a thrill out of calling you princess to tease you, because he doesn’t know your real name.
What Jungkook also didn’t know was that you were undeniably on the same wavelength as him. Just in a sugarcoated format. You liked to play. You liked to kiss and touch and feel up on another body… But you were still the doe-like glint in your eyes that your makeup couldn’t shield, the timidness in your step that the cuff of your ass in your mini skirts and your cleavage couldn’t distract.
A virgin. With a very real v-card.
And okay, you get it. Jungkook has got to be the worst option to take it. Even now as you gaze at him he’s wickedly attractive, sporting a vintage band tee and a studded belt because his waist is too slutty to hold up his cargo jeans. His hair has grown into a mullet that fits his wild lifestyle and his sculpted face, curling around his neck where faded hickeys someone else has done stain his honey skin.
He’s a walking red flag.
But you can make your own rash decisions.
Jungkook gets to be so fucking easy and the epitome of a typical fuckboy. Why couldn’t you let this one thing happen for once and for all?
He’d do this quickly, too. Take you hard and fast when you tell him you want it. You’ve heard he fucks like a rabbit, so it’d go smoothly. No questions. Only two bodies bumping against each other to get their fill. Well, you wouldn’t know what the fuck you were doing, but he should be too selfishly horny to notice...
“Princess.”
His voice alone brings a plethora of goosebumps to your skin. You blink out of your dangerous state of mind as he blurs back into view.
“Hm?” You respond.
Jungkook smugly grins, dimples popping in his cheeks as his tongue teases the hoop in his bottom lip. He’d been fixated on you as you spaced out. You hadn’t answered his question for a full minute.
So he repeats himself. “I asked why you were soaking wet when I haven’t done anything to you…?”
“O-Oh.” You realize his hand is indeed up your skirt, the other pressing your hips to the door of your dorm room. You can’t remember the walk here or all the flirting done at the frat party to lead up to this. Clearly, you aren’t as calm as you told yourself you would be when Jungkook brought you to your demise.
It doesn’t help how odd and out of place he looks inside your hyper feminine dorm room either—pink decor, Sanrio plushies, and your strawberry perfume permeating the air in a thick cloud. He’s the only dark theme in your room, intruding the soft-core space with his mysterious aura and the smell of smokey cologne and weed.
There isn’t much talk about your girly decoration though, as Jungkook is eager to have you around his dick and invade your bedsheets with the scent of him. You’d been bold enough to finally take him to the women’s dorms you stayed in, sneaking him through the back door he knew all too well. Per university code, he was down to get fucked. You figured he’d understand what this meant you wanted from him…
Jungkook is rough as he presses his body closer, the passionate wetness of his tongue on your neck and the grip on your hips is nothing you’ve experienced before. You like that he’s not going slow, but the raw, carnal desire is terrifying.
Especially when you feel what he’s working with in his cargos. It grows heavier as his hands travel around your waist to underneath your skirt, grabbing handfuls of your ass and teasing the little thong you decided to slip on earlier. He goes as far as rubbing you right where his experienced fingers know your entrance would be, and, fuck, it feels so much different with having someone else in control of your pleasure.
You feel your panties getting stickier than ever at the mere fact that he’s warming you up for the inevitable. How quickly drenched he’s made you and the noise that escapes when he finds a sensitive spot on your skin. You moan his name, gripping his hand to get a sense of reality.
The fuckboy groans back, stopping to look at you. You can’t believe you’ve chosen death himself over the sweet, kind guy who’s been trying to get with you all month. Brandon would have been all lovey about this… but Jungkook is going to murder you. Specifically, your insides.
He knows it, too, with how he smirks at your flustered expression and panting lips. It makes you nervous that you’ve gotten this far, and you’re back to your shy, timid self when you think about what’s to come next. You’re so close to flaking and leaving him with a hard on once again, but you want this.
So you take it upon yourself to kiss him. It’s barely a peck, and you end up brushing his silver hoop piercing more than his rosey lips. His tongue flicks out to lick the residue of strawberry gloss you left on the corner of his mouth, and Jungkook becomes lost in the flavor of you.
He tilts your chin up and kisses you back.
It’s not gentle or polite like the one you gave him. His tongue demands dominance as soon as your lips touch, his muscle smoothing over the flesh of yours which has you thinking of badder things than tongue kissing. It’s sloppy and urges your hands all over each other, your hips flush together, Jungkook’s legs hitting the edge of your bed, and you nearly falling on top of him.
The way your hips begin grinding on him is so alluring... You’re such an enigma to him right now—as if you weren’t already—that he’s determined to use this opportunity to finally have what’s between your legs.
You become a bit more aggressive since you’re trying to keep up with Jungkook’s tempo and not get him bored, but you can’t help but feel anxious when he cups your chest, breaking the kiss to ogle the cleavage of your lace bra underneath your top. You go to move away, but he yanks you back down on his lap.
“Are you getting all shy on me again?” He whispers. “It’s nothing I’ve never seen before, princess.”
True… but you’ve never been naked in front of anyone else. Your fairy lights aren’t dim enough, and you didn’t think it’d be taking this long to get pounded. This is too intimate.
However, Jungkook is quick to divert your attention by rolling over on top of you. Your skirt rides up with the movement, and he gets a glimpse of delicate, pink panties decorated with a tiny bow. That hug your pussy like a present ready to be unwrapped. They correlate with your bra, too, and Jungkook heavily believes in matching sets gracing him with the best pussy he’s ever had. You’re so done for.
Jungkook admiring how the baby pink contrasts beautifully against your brown skin forces your legs shut in fear. You had worn the lingerie for him, but you didn’t expect staring. Where is his urgency to put his dick in you?
Apparently, nowhere to be found as he follows you further back on your bed, eyes curious and enticing, sizing you up. He hovers over you when your pillows and plushies make it impossible to go further, the skull pendant on the silver chain around his neck dangling in your face.
You clearly want this, otherwise you wouldn’t have said what you said at the party or sent those texts all last night. You’re just too shy to go for what you want, and Jungkook finds it adorable. He chuckles at how skittish and scared you’re being, trying to calm your nerves with some humor.
“What are you, a virgin?” He asks.
It’s a joke. At first. Until you bite down on your tongue and avoid his eyes for a second, unable to maintain your faux confidence any longer.
Jungkook freezes.
Shit.
“No way…” he mumbles, looking at how sexy you are laid out underneath him. It seemed he was contemplating on dipping or not giving an ounce of a fuck that you had never done this before.
He’s suddenly conflicted on how you’ve gotten this far undetected. It makes sense when he reminisces about your bashful antics and you pushing him away before things get too far, but he thought of it as simply respecting that you have boundaries no matter the reason. He just never thought it was because you were… untouched.
Jungkook doesn’t do virgins as much as oral. It’s laughable to find out he’s been played along by a phony virgin the whole time.
“Were you trying to hide it from me?” He tsks, tilting his head down at you. “Cute.”
Your lips are shut together, as you don’t know how to answer, because, yes, you have been hiding your virginity from him. It’s not wrong… but maybe it isn’t so right to have him obliviously deflower you.
He doesn’t make a big deal out of it though, instead waiting on you to speak. So you don’t want to make a big deal out of it either, trying to brush it off.
“A-Are you still gonna…?”
“No, I’m not gonna fuck you,” Jungkook says as he leans in. Your chest hitches when his palm rests on your thigh.
“I’d rip you open, princess…” He mumbles softly, round nose nudging with yours. “You’d probably bleed all over my cock, fuck…”
Weirdly, you were not put off by that. He could tell by how your eyes practically sparkled that you were into it… His jeans feel tighter.
“Unless you want me to?”
You swallow. Unable to say it, but begging to be split in half in your head.
“Such a freak,” Jungkook murmurs. He’s heard quiet girls were the freakiest, but, damn, you were taking the cake.
The room grows quiet, and Jungkook moves as if he’s about to free you from his grasp, leave you high and dry like you’d done to him plenty before, but you’ve gotten too close to spend another night fantasizing about what he’d do to you if given the chance.
You grip his bulging forearm. “C-Can you kiss me?”
Making out has got to be so lackluster to him now, but he doesn’t hesitate to do as you ask. Fitting his mouth to yours is like second nature, the sweet oil of your gloss something he’d never say no to and how your bottom lip pricks between his teeth because he can’t help but to bite.
You mewl right into his lungs, hands roaming up tattooed skin to cradle his neck. His erection bumps against your thigh as he shifts to kiss down your throat again, and you realize that this isn’t actually going to stop when Jungkook starts sucking the tops of your breasts. When his lips meet your belly button, wavering over the sliver of skin between your skirt and cropped shirt.
Jungkook has been waiting as long as you to fuck each other. Is he really going to let your virginity be a deal breaker?
You smell like strawberries again tonight, followed by a hint of cocoa and marshmallow that has Jungkook wanting to stick his nose to every inch of your body and just breathe. You smell so fucking edible to the point that he wants his tongue running all over your melanated skin, too. He doesn’t notice that he’s kissing down your inner thigh until you gasp.
“What are you doing?” You ask nervously, blinking down at him.
He’s quiet for the moment he takes to stare up your skirt, at how your pretty, pink panties is nothing but a string of ruined fabric covering your swollen pussy now. You drip right through the lace and onto his fingers when he rubs you.
“Really wanna taste you,” Jungkook says, barely loud enough for you to hear over the thumping in your chest.
Your throat is too dry to say anything when his eyes flick to yours. He grips your knee to push your legs further apart, getting on his to sit up and lean over you again.
You don’t expect his hand to fall to your neck, thumb brushing your lips as his other palm squeezes your breast. You grab his wrist when he applies some pressure, thinking he’s going to choke you to death, but he just smirks at your doe-eyed expression.
“Princess… I trust that you’ll keep this pretty mouth shut.”
Oh. Right. He didn’t go down on his hookups. Or maybe he tells other girls this same thing, to keep hush about it.
At least all of your efforts wouldn’t be wasted. So you nod with his thumb on your tongue. “O-Okay.”
Jungkook hums at your compliance before reaching for your skirt and telling you to “lift up”. You do as he says and allow him to begin undressing you, your body shivering in anxiety when he throws your skirt on the floor and grips the band of your underwear next. You inhale a deep breath and lift up again, Jungkook’s eyes glazing over at the thick strings of wetness that have pooled in your panties as he drags them down your legs.
The fuckboy isn’t a stranger to getting his partners excited. He knows he has a face that can get anyone soaked. But this? He wouldn’t last for shit.
Jungkook likes it super wet and super tight. From all the women he’s fucked, not every girl feels the same. Virgins have been a big no-no in his sex life, but now he’s rethinking everything he’s ever stood for at a mere glimpse of how wet you are and how your hole looks like it can’t even take his fingers.
He’s about to put his mouth on you for fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he’s avoided your kind.
And you, in particular, are extremely dangerous. Playing as if you’ve had experience the whole time this has been going on, plotting this whole night out from suggesting meeting up at the party and coming back to your dorm. It doesn’t take much to notice that you’re completely hairless and smooth everywhere, too. Skin glowing like you took all morning prepping for a proper dick appointment.
Jungkook isn’t complaining. It’s hot that you dolled yourself all up for him in hopes of getting your v-card taken. Wanted to look like the princess he calls you when he takes you. Which you do.
Fuck, you look like the prettiest pillow princess ever as Jungkook lays on his stomach and yanks your hips closer to his face. You shyly glance up at your fairy lights, becoming embarrassed when he spreads your thighs wider and you can feel your pussy lay out for him. You don’t think you can muster eye contact during this, but you notice Jungkook’s eyes taking in your face and your princess parts without a care in the world.
There’s browns and flushed, dark pink hues that has him biting at his lip piercing in sweltering anticipation, and he’s so damn eager to put his mouth there that he doesn’t think twice about what he’s doing and goes with his instinct to lick. You squirm in response, catching a squeal in your throat at the foreign sensation. Jungkook, on the other hand, is already following up with another lick between your folds and then another…
You taste so sugary, and the way your juices are sticking to his tongue in webs makes him wish he’d eaten you out sooner. His blunt nails dig deeper into your thighs as he pushes his face closer so that his nose bumps with your clit. You begin whimpering, and it’s the perfect motivation to get you further.
Your cunt feels uncomfortably slick, but the tingling and tightening in your core that Jungkook is gracing onto you feels too good. You doubt that he’s never done this before; He’s eating you like it’s his craft. All while looking like—the devil.
His face is perfect for pussy eating, hell, face riding even. There’s no way no one else hasn’t witnessed his cheeks flushing, his furrowed eyebrows and rough tongue as if he’s angry as hell… The fluffy mess upon his head tickling your thighs.
You can’t bring yourself to touch it. You can’t believe someone’s pleasuring you and enjoying it. To keep yourself sane, you bury your face into your pillows and promise to not look down. Your moans are already as humiliating as you thought they would be, you can’t imagine your facial expressions.
But Jungkook finds your noises sweetly airy and sensual, desperate, but sexy. Your shaking legs and how you’re gripping the sheets, too, indicates that he’s treating you right. Gliding his tongue at a rhythmic pace, changing it up for a few seconds to nibble and swirl here and there. He doesn’t think he’s doing it correctly although you’re clenching like crazy.
Licking on pussy he hasn’t been in is so out of his character, but “you taste so fucking good” is all that passes through his swollen lips when he pulls away to catch his breath. You’re adorably hiding behind a Hello Kitty plushie, equally out of breath but able to hum at Jungkook’s compliment.
He doesn’t mind your shyness, which he’d expect from a virgin in the first place, but now he wants to see you lose it. Lose all your composure, rut against his face to get off. Cum. You’ve probably never had an orgasm before.
He proves himself right when he touches your slit with his fingers. You jump as if it’s foreign, too, and your cunt slicks up even more when he brushes your entrance. Jungkook’s rubbed you over your underwear a couple of times before, more so to tease, but it’s clear you haven’t had your own fingers down here to do real work.
So he wraps his lips around your puffy clit, sucking as he sticks his middle finger in your pussy to give you more pleasure… but then realizing he can’t go far or even curl his fingers how he wants because you tense up and—
“You still have a fucking hymen?”
Jungkook was partially kidding about popping your strawberry. He thought that was a traditional myth, or that nowadays many virgin women didn’t always have hymens for natural reasons. He figured you would just be a tight fit. Not that he’d have to actually break you in… To his luck, you keep surprising him.
“I-I’ve never done this before,” you mumble, pulling the Hello Kitty plushie down far enough for him to see your eyes. “I told you I was a…”
“Yeah, as in you haven’t had sex before,” Jungkook responds, tone nearing annoyed as he retracts his finger, careful to not tear you. “Not as in you’re some type of pure virgin bullshit.”
You sit up as he moves from in between your legs, your ears burning at how his lips are glistening from your mess. You hug your knees to your chest and use the plushie to cover yourself as he gets up from the bed.
There’s no way he’s leaving you.
“Jungkook—“
But he’s already made it out the door of your dorm, slamming it shut.
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺ ♥︎ ༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
🍓⊹。ෆ
Not that he contacted you much before, but Jungkook doesn’t message you for the next week. Not even to get high with him or go to the lake.
It’s a different type of silence between you both with knowing what happened, and you kind of expected it to go down like this after he got a piece of you anyways, to completely ignore you after getting what he could. It sucks that you didn’t get fucked how you imagined, or got to experience a first orgasm, though another experience to jot down in your diary was still a win.
It’s strangely made you confident that you’ve been half naked in front of another man, especially a seasoned fuckboy like Jungkook. If you can have him on your bed like that, then imagine how down bad you’d have your other option—Brandon.
Jungkook’s easy, but you know Brandon’s been trying to hit at you for a while. You could get him to fold with the snap of your fingers. He’s already so flirty and preoccupied with you as the umpteenth party of the semester goes on, him sticking to your side like a lovesick puppy and paying for your fruity cocktails with his daddy’s money.
You can’t be too stuck up on Jungkook when plenty of men have a dick, and, after all, your v-card can’t be much harder to get rid of. You wouldn’t give up a good time with Brandon.
He’s a popular senior with brown skin, dark hair, a bright smile, and gorgeous, hazel eyes. Very cute and lean since he plays varsity soccer. He’s not in a lot of mess with girls, but everyone knows he gets heavy play outside of the field.
Plus, Brandon is the son of some wealthy businessman. He doesn’t need to do much to pull any thirsty bitch, but you’ve been making him work for it. Other girls want to date and marry into his rich family; You just want his dick and maybe that roll of money he keeps unbundling for you.
Brandon can’t possibly suspect you’re a virgin with how you’re feeding into his teasing and teasing right back, knocking out drink after drink and giggling at everything he says. This is the longest you’ve engaged with him outside of class, so you hope you’re giving off that you’re interested in sleeping together, despite the shy and introverted persona you have.
The soccer player seems to understand your reciprocated desire though as he gets touchier and leans in to whisper how good you smell and how sexy you look—because, when has a mini skirt ever failed? But you catch the big, brown eyes of someone across the floor.
Staring.
Jungkook.
You look away first, as he has no shame in letting you know he’s watching you. While sitting between two girls that were practically on top of him.
Urgh. The nerve to glare at you when he’s been walking past you on campus without a word all week… Asshole.
“Did you want another drink?” Brandon asks, rubbing your arm at the sudden change in your facial expression. You like that he doesn’t meddle in who you might’ve seen and offers more poison.
“Yeah, sure,” you tell him. The alcohol has loosened you up quite a lot, but you can still remember the shit that has you pressing yourself to Brandon, so you down another, thankful that your mind gets fuzzier.
It only lasts for a few minutes before you’re reminiscing the other night, Jungkook’s hand on your throat, his tongue in your pussy, and what could’ve been if you weren’t a virgin. You want to say ‘fuck him’ out loud and forget about it and him in general. But you glance back over to where you’d noticed him to see he’s leaving the party. Alone.
Making quick eye contact with you through the crowd. It speaks for itself.
Fine… Let’s talk then.
You step back from the kitchen counter as you set your cup down. “I-I gotta go.”
Brandon chuckles, although he’s not happy about losing his piece of ass. “Want me to drive you back?”
“I drove,” you say, wielding your Sanrio charm decorated keys from your wrist wallet. “But thanks.”
“You can’t drink and drive,” he claims, and within the second of him pulling you back into him, he snatches your keychain. “I can get you back to your dorm, ________.”
“I can drive fine, not drunk,” you mumble. He’s right, you shouldn’t drink and drive, but you’re going to see someone who you trust more to be inebriated around. “Can you give me my keys?”
Brandon pockets them and shrugs. His nonchalant attitude shift is different than how he approaches you in class. “How about we go upstairs to chill before you go? You’re not sober enough to drive.”
“Then I can walk,” you exclaim. He’s pissing you off. Sure, you had a good amount of alcohol, but you’re highly functional, speaking without slurring. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. You can’t tell if he’s trying to protect you or be a jackass about you leaving so soon.
“I’ll give you your keys if you give me something in return.”
Okay. Jackass about you leaving so soon it is.
“What?”
“A goodbye kiss,” Brandon frowns, thick eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve been such a tease to me all night, thinking I’ve finally gotten through to you. I didn’t think you’d still be such a prissy good girl around me outside of Chemistry.”
You suck in a nervous breath, understanding how this might look to him. But still… doesn’t mean you owe him anything, and it sounds like he’s alluding to it. You wanted to have sex at first, but you can change your mind whenever you want, right? He’s acting as if you’ve ruined everything by not putting out.
“Or not want me to take you back,” he continues, wrapping his bulging arm around your shoulder as he takes a swig of alcohol. “You’re not as drunk, are you? Like you said? Let me drive you to your dorm.”
You can’t fathom the words coming out of his mouth so casually, and, suddenly, his sharp cologne is stinging your nose, his varsity jacket is heavy on your neck. He’s turned you all the way off, and you’d be pushing it to let him drop you at campus. What would he ask for then?
You wrench his arm away from you. Fuck the keys. A goodbye kiss because he spent his money on you? And can’t handle the idea of sexing up anyone else in here but you? What makes him so entitled.
Brandon calls out to you as you leave your keys behind and push through the crowd, wanting to explode on yourself for what happened and being blinded by something as unserious as your desire to lose your virginity. Brandon was sweet until he wasn’t, but you don’t know if you’re looking at green flags or red ones.
Maybe he was joking about the kiss and playing around? What if he was worried about your safety for real? Ack… Your mind didn’t feel right, but you know how you love to overthink.
Once outside the frat, a sigh visibly escapes your lips and fades into the cool, night air. There’s as many people here as in, but everyone is lit off their alcohol or whatever drugs being passed around to notice your frazzled state as you step down the porch stairs. You figure to head to your car and wait until Brandon eventually gives you your keys back, scared your little baby may get stolen. However, low and behold, parked right next to it in the makeshift parking lot of grass other college students have dumped their cars across, is none other than an iconic blue and white mustang.
Actually… you don’t mind waiting for your keys. Jungkook leaning there against the hood of his old school gem smoking is going to keep you occupied for a while.
You come to a stop in front of him, anxious, but he’d been the reason for you to leave in the first place. It’s not like you’re unwanted in his presence.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first, glances at you up and down in your revealing outfit while you check him out the same. He’s in a fitted black top and baggy, dark wash jeans held up by a belt that accentuates his lean yet muscular figure. A chain decorates his neck, and his fingers are shiny with steel rings as he removes the blunt from his mouth to blow the smoke.
He’s so menacing looking like the bad boy he is, curled hair styled to perfection. You’re too entranced by his handsomeness to notice his hand pulling you closer by the back of your thigh to pass you the blunt to hit.
You puff it for a second and exhale the weed in a sigh. It’s something about you being all dolled up in cute makeup, pink clothing, and your leg warmers that makes Jungkook’s lip quirk up at you engaging in illegal behavior with him. He takes another hit when you give it back, your strawberry flavored gloss sweet on his tongue as he lets the smoke fade into the darkness above before finally speaking.
“What’s with you talking to that guy?” He confronts. “Acting like I don’t give you enough attention…”
He wasn’t about to beat around the bush. No wonder he was death staring you.
“Is that what you brought me out here for?” You ask. “I didn’t say anything when those girls were all over you.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue, sharp jaw tightening. “I have girls all over me all the time, princess. Doesn’t mean I want their attention.”
As if on cue, he looks over at a group of girls clearly giggling and gushing about him a few cars over, despite you standing right there. You scowl as you turn back to him to see a smirk on his face.
“Or need it.”
“I didn’t need his attention either,” you feign innocence. What the hell is he trying to get at? So what if you were on Brandon.
“Didn’t look like it.” He sizes you up before catching your eyes again. “You dress like an attention whore, had your tits pressed against his arm the whole time… You wanted him to fuck you, yeah?”
“If I did?”
A beat of silence before Jungkook chuckles, yanking you between his legs by your hips this time to get nose to nose. “He can’t give you what you want.”
“Y-You don’t know what I want.”
“You want me.” He smiles with bunny teeth, and, god, he’s so fucking fine even though he’s so full of himself. “Right, princess? Don’t give me that pout.”
You step back and immediately fix your face before he reaches up to fix it for you. “Is this all you had to talk about?”
It’s his turn to pout at your pissy mood, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing on.
“I didn’t bring you over here for nothing, princess,” he says.
“Then what do you want?”
“To taste your pussy. I thought that part was obvious…” Jungkook nods back at his car, and your breath runs rapid.
No way he had enough room in there to have his head between your legs. Comfortably anyways.
He’s gotta be fucking with you? Eating you out, walking out on you, and ignoring you for a week to then come finish the job? What a joke.
“You’re insane.”
“A little.” Before you can walk too far away, he grips you by the wrist to pull you back. “Wanna hot box?”
“That’s an even dumber idea, Jungkook…”
“Not like it’s stopped you before.”
What’s his fucking issue? He’s acting like the night in your dorm room never happened and that he didn’t ghost you for days after finding out you were a virgin. As if this whole friendship or situationship wasn’t as unhinged already. Now he wants to ‘chill’ after seeing you cozied up with Brandon. Typical fuckboy!
Your choices in men weren’t great, but Jungkook has this special charm to him that bends you to his each and every will. If he wanted to smoke you high, your body was going to find a way to make it possible. Or his raven eyes are just that majestic to have you whispering “Fine…” in agreement, without weighing the consequences.
Next thing you know, Jungkook’s propped the passenger seat forward to let you and him slide into the back of his old school mustang. The back seat isn’t ideal for his height or yours since the roof is lower and a bit cramped, however, you don’t mind having to lie back and being pressed next to Jungkook’s warm body. Hot boxing with him was a cheat on therapy.
The tinted windows fog up ten-fold due to the chilly weather outside and the fumes filling up the vehicle. There’s music playing from the radio that hugs your skin just right, and you loll onto Jungkook’s shoulder as you allow yourself to buzz after the blunt’s gone. How he knew you could use this moment was beyond your comprehension, but motherfuckers like him always knew when to show up and keep bruising their marks before they disappear.
It’s much easier, in his case, when the butterfly on your thigh has yet to fade. He draws circles on the stick-n-poke he’d done on your skin months ago, thumb as soft as a feather. Fingertips lightly grazing the expanse of your smooth, brown legs over and over.
You suspect he’ll kiss you, make out, go as far as sucking on your throat to feed the oral fixation he gets when he’s faded and to fuel the stickiness you get in your panties at his touch. You can smell his cologne on his neck mixing in with the loud as he leans in closer.
“It pisses me off,” he starts, and the huskiness in his voice has your hairs standing on edge. “When you play in my face, princess.”
Your hooded eyes can barely push up a confused eyebrow. “What… What did I do?”
“Make stupid decisions,” Jungkook tsks. “Your little boyfriend doesn’t know?”
He was still stuck on that shit with Brandon? Men were so damn dramatic, hell.
“He’s not my boyfriend, neither are you,” you explain, annoyed. “You didn’t want to take it... What does it matter if I wanted him to?”
“Are you that stupid to have someone else’s tongue up your cunt?” Jungkook utters, finger coming up to coil a curl around it before making eye contact. “I licked it, so it’s mine.”
You giggle. The weed makes your laugh last longer, but it’s funny, genuinely. Staking claim over your coochie because he ate you out? Mr. I Don’t Eat Pussy pressing you about it is crazy. He has to be high out of his mind, but you entertain him back, feeling a little too bold from the kush and alcohol.
“Yours? When you didn’t even do much before running out?”
The car goes quiet except for the audio lowly bumping the speakers. You can’t believe you said what you’d been so pissed about. He surprisingly doesn’t get mad at you coming for his ego, instead, he laughs it off, tonguing his cheek hotly, dangerously.
“Did you wanna be a brat tonight?” Jungkook responds, hand tightening on your thigh. You didn’t know exactly what he meant by it, but you were not up to find out.
You bite your tongue and shake your head, scared out of your mind at what you’re positive crossed both of your consciences in that moment. Jungkook’s veiny hands adorned in those silver rings leaving your ass welted. You, a whimpering mess and regretful about opening your mouth.
“You sure?”
You nod. “Y-Yes...”
Jungkook finds you fucking adorable as you trail off and blank out. He isn’t used to girls thinking around him, so he can’t help but to stare, move a little closer to see if he can read your mind. Your pupils are big, filled with anticipation. Expecting more.
“Is that why you haven’t texted me?” He breaks the silence. “Cause I didn’t get you off?”
From your perspective, you hadn’t thought of it in that way. He didn’t text you, but neither did you text him. The lack of communication is on both parts, but he always hit you up first to hang. He can’t all of a sudden act as if it’s the other way around, like you’re the one dragging him along for the fun of it.
“It’s because you ran out on me in the middle of… doing it, what am I supposed to think?” You ask.
“Princess,” Jungkook makes a noise and throws his head back against the seat. “You’re so hard to understand.”
“W-What do you mean?” What was so hard to understand about wanting to get fucked into your mattress?
“I mean,” he begins, red eyes flicking to yours past his nose. “Have you even touched yourself? Came?”
You blink. “Came…?”
“Orgasmed,” the fuckboy smirks, cheek dimple popping. “When it feels too good and you just let go.”
The flesh of your cheeks warm as you imagine it, the stuff you’ve seen in porn and those times you’ve tried to get yourself there but embarrassingly failed.
“No… but I touch—I touch myself sometimes. I just… rub it. It hurts if…” You avoid his gaze, unable to say it aloud.
“Cause you don’t know what you’re doing,” Jungkook concludes. “You’re jumping ten steps ahead when you haven’t seen a real cock in person, princess. You don’t know what you like.”
Your dolly lashes blink up at him in guilt yet admiration. You have a serious lack of experience with sex, heavy petting being the furthest you’ve gone with Jungkook, and you come to realize that it isn’t smart or safe to be so willing to give up your virginity. You’re clueless enough for the university’s biggest fuckboy and the police’s worst nightmare to hang morality over your head. Jeon Jungkook. Trying to communicate about your nonexistent sex life instead of getting a quick nut.
Oh, god, why does he care? It makes you want to fuck him more instead.
“I get what you’re saying,” you tell him. “But… does it matter? To you, that I’m…”
“Yeah.” He’s back to playing in your hair again, body facing yours, head tilted to the side as he hums. He’s high, but still in control of his actions and words and… agh.
“W-Why?” You ask.
You feel like any other guy would be dying to be a girl’s first time. Jungkook’s restraint and adulation in this situation is so sexy, despite how disposable you’ve heard he treats women.
“Well, I just wanna fuck you,” he honestly admits. “You might not want that from me.”
Your chest pounds faster as he traces the curve of your neck, thumb grazing the tops of your chest and cleavage. No shocker there that he only desires sex from you, can’t keep his eyes off your body. But that’s what you want, too. A good time.
You boldly grab his hand to place it on your chest, and he immediately squeezes. Jungkook’s surprised by your action, and the peek of the lace bra underneath your top isn’t allowing him to think rationally.
You whisper, “What else do you think I want?”
His eyes roam over your body again, before he blinks back into reality and says, “A boyfriend. Commitment.”
“Because I’m a virgin…?”
He nods and reaches up to touch your face.
“Yes. I think girls like you get attached, princess.” He thumbs your bottom lip. “And crazy.”
He has to be wrong. You don’t think you will turn out like that. Not over sex. You care little about your virginity, and you aren’t the type to take it as extremely and give it to someone you vow your life to in marriage. You could have sex and move on like everyone else.
“I was your first, wasn’t I? When you tasted me..?Why can’t you be mine?”
The fuckboy finds your logic flawed. Oral versus intercourse wasn’t anywhere near the same. “That’s not how it works, princess.”
“Then show me how it works, Jungkook.”
Your determination has Jungkook’s dick hardening in his jeans. His sweet and soft princess is so set on what she wants that he doesn’t want to tell you no. Of course, finding out you were a virgin didn’t make you any less desirable to him. If anything, he wants to break you in half and take you for himself.
But, it’s not right. He’s an asshole and commits crimes here and there, but he’s not a bad person. And he doesn’t want to hurt you, whether that’s emotionally or physically. Virgins are stop signs to him for a number of reasons, some shit he’s dealt with as one himself. He just—doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He’s selfish and unavailable in too many ways he needs to be. You don’t deserve that.
It’s a good thing he’s as good as he is when it comes to women. He can give you what you want, all while still not giving you what you really want.
“Open your legs,” he demands, calmly and assertively. As expected, you freeze.
“B-But—“ you stutter, looking around at the tinted windows of the car. Jungkook knows his windows are pitch black, but he likes how nervous you get about possibly being seen exposed.
“Your legs, pretty,” he repeats, tugging on your thighs. “Spread them.”
You let out a breath and lessen your resistance as Jungkook maneuvers your legs over his thighs and coerces you to spread one, enough to let his palm flatten between them, a thumb pressing up against your cute underwear. The crotch is unsurprisingly damp.
“You’re so fucking easy, princess,” he taunts. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?”
“I-I am.” You don’t know if you’re stuttering because of him or how aroused you’re getting. Jungkook and weed is a terrible combination.
Jungkook greedily pushes his fingers down your panties when your mouths connect to feel all of it skin on skin, clit sticky and fuck, yeah, you are a virgin based on how tiny your hole still feels as he circles it.
It’s insane how internally possessive he grows to be reminded. Sex and pleasuring another leaves him satiated but not wanting more than just a quick fuck. With you, he can’t hit it and done. He can’t push your face into the backseat and cram his cock into you. He has to take his time, wants to give it to you right in every way he can.
Virgins aren’t his thing. Eating pussy isn’t his thing. Not when he’s only done it once… He’s just… experimenting. All while developing new, sick fantasies you’ve ingrained into him.
“Can I touch you?” He breaks the kiss to ask, like his digits aren’t already slipping through your folds.
Your ears burn at the faded yet needy look in his pupils. You think he wants to go further, and here you are again, ready to lose your virginity to the fuckiest fuckboy, despite the attitude he’s given the past week. What was wrong with you? And him?
Who knows… You gladly nod your head.
You slightly lift your hips to let him pull your pink panties down your knees, over your leg warmers and platform shoes. They’re discarded somewhere in the car, and you shriek as Jungkook repositions so that you’re more on top of him and your lower half is over his, pelvis angled to better expose your core. You thought P-in-V was next, but you’re not realizing how serious this is until he moves his fingers back down there. The pretty ones with the rings that look like they’ll break you.
“Y-You can’t, I’m…” Too tight. You were too embarrassed to finish your own sentence. However, Jungkook is already ahead. Stupid you to think you could take cock when one finger is about to make you a wreck.
“They’ll fit, princess,” he coos. “Relax.”
You try to do just that by letting your body mold into his, taking slow breaths, vibing with the music you can hear, trying not to be too in your head about what you’re doing. It’s weird at first when he brushes your clit again and starts rubbing it, but the sensation quickly brightens into pleasure. The little nub grows hotter with every circle, and your pussy aches for more.
You whimper a cuss word at your legs jerking and grip his tatted hand when a figure walks by the tinted windows. The party must’ve began dying down and people were leaving. And you’re here in the backseat of Jungkook’s mustang getting your clit beat, wishing he’d stuff you, because you can feel how badly the inside of your walls want to be full.
“Think you can take it?” He rasps in your ear. You nod and moan as he picks up the speed on your hood, using his other hand to fondle your breasts over your shirt.
Like any other woman, you wet yourself easily at Jungkook’s ministrations. By your heavy breathing and squirming, he can tell you’re dying to get a taste, that you want to cum on his fingers so hard. He kisses you more, rubbing and rubbing along your slit until your pussy is drenched on his fingers, and then does he take the opportunity to prod at your hole.
Your body freezes once you ingulf an influx of air, the foreign feeling uncomfortable yet tempting. You want it, despite the sting you have to endure before your core naturally submits and accommodates his ringed finger.
Your breath falters out of your chest as he pushes, and you dig your nails into Jungkook’s wrist. You feel hot, everything’s so hot, and your walls are clenching nonstop.
“I know, I know,” he comforts you, pierced lips whispering against the side of your neck when you throw your head back in ecstasy. “Let me in, pretty.”
“Ngh, fuck, oh my god,” you moan out, wrapping your arm around his neck to hold onto something. No way it feels this good, and you’ve been missing out all this time.
It’s Jungkook’s middle finger you’re clenching around and babbling over, close to ripping the curly tresses out of his scalp with how hard you’re tugging. A delicious sheen of sweat coats your neck as Jungkook drags his digit in and out slowly for you to experience the motion, and you look so sexy spread out on his lap taking it.
Another shadow flits by the car window, and your pussy immediately tightens in excitement. You start trying to rock against his hand to get him deeper, anxiously watching for outside but still enjoying yourself.
“Jungkook, f-faster,” you beg, reaching for his hand and pressing it more against you if possible.
He listens, adding more movement in his wrist, allowing his finger to slip further and quicker into your silky warmth. He’s as breathless as you when you whine out at the feel of his thumb stimulating your clit.
“Pretty little pussy suckin me in so good,” He mumbles against your skin, strawberry scent blessing his nostrils. “Fuck.”
Now he’s imagining you wrapped around his dick sucking him in just like this. Stretching you out until you’re full of him and crying about how it feels too much. So he uses his other hand to spread your pussy, ring finger sliding in next, obsessed with getting your sex to open up for him. He barely has to try. You’re so slick and relaxed and willing that you take the two fingers with little struggle.
“You’re so tight, princess,” Jungkook moans, barely able to move his fingers despite getting them inside. He figures he’ll hurt you if he tries to force further because of your hymen, so he’ll deal with what he can.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize in embarrassment, a bit uncomfortable too now with another finger since it feels bigger.
He guides you back into bliss, though, not allowing you to slip into that insecurity, and bends his head down to aim and spit on your folds like a professional. “Breathe for me, okay?”
“M-Mmkay,” you sob, because he was mental for having the nerve to spit like a freak and then talk to you as if he really cares about your pleasure and well-being.
He doesn’t press you to go any further, accepting that this may be as far as he can get you. Which is fine. You’re a virgin after all. He doesn’t expect you to hop on his dick, hot and ready. He’s much bigger than the two fingers your pussy can’t handle, not to brag. But it’s okay. Vagina was still vagina, and he knows exactly how to satisfyingly end this.
“Don’t think about it,” He whispers, his voice soothing you to unwind and let him take back control.
“Think… Think about what?” You breathe, voice hitching when Jungkook goes to rub your clit, keeping the other two fingers lodged in your tight wetness. He doesn’t answer you and instead slides his fingers deeper. Not thrusting. All of the motion is focusing on your swollen little button.
You don’t expect the buildup to hit you fast and so quickly. Lashes wet with tears, lip bitten raw from trying to keep noises down. But it rips through you without any remorse that you cry out loud.
Jungkook steadily abuses the nerves to get you there, holding you down to his body so you can’t run away from the climax. There’s fingernail indents reddening on his wrist when he slows down, and you gasp as you continue to cling onto him throughout your orgasm.
That was… crazier than you expected. You feel like you’re floating for a few seconds and have lost your mind. It’s as pleasant as people say.
“Good, princess.”
Jungkook is delighted that he pulled it off. Gave you your first orgasm awakening. He could’ve done better and so much more, but with how your chest is heaving, he would have made your heart explode. He’s happy with this for now.
“Aak!” You suddenly scream when you look down, but cover your mouth to not alert outsiders.
Jungkook leans up at attention. “What?”
“S-Sorry. I felt something… Inside. And it scared me,” you mumble. “Can you…?”
Your fingers gently touch the two still lodged inside your entrance. Oh.
“Yeah.” He slowly pulls them out, careful to not hurt you. And then does the final result of Jungkook’s finger fucking show.
A cloudy stream of cum flows from your pussy and forms a small pool on the crotch of Jungkook’s dark jeans near the zipper. He takes it upon himself to spread your lips for the full view, tiny cunt clenching around air.
“Of course you’re a creamer,” he notes, eyes fixated on the juices on his hand.
You pout. “Is that a bad thing…?”
“No.”
Although he enjoys when women squirt, it fits your entire persona and being that you cream. Some cheesy, aesthetic shit like chocolate covered strawberries and whipped cream is very fitting to the way you smell, dress, and look… Even during sex.
Shamelessly, he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them.
You taste sweeter than last week. Or maybe it’s been too long to remember the exact way you did, so his tastebuds have forgotten. Either way, he wants your cunt in his mouth. Now.
The tension between you and him grows and grows as he leans in like he’s going to kiss you, and with those pillows wet from your essence, you’re begging him to ‘kiss me more, kiss me more’ in your head.
You can smell your scent on his breath when your lips brush, but your excitement is cut short.
Ruined by a beating on the window glass.
“JEON!”
You freeze.
Jungkook lets out an airy chuckle and hangs his head.
“Fucking hell…”
“JEON!” It sounds like a girl. And a mad one, since she bangs some more, her fist shadowing on the fogged window. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, YOU ASS!”
You frown. “Who is that?”
“Don’t say anything to her,” Jungkook responds, and slides you off his lap. “I don’t know where I threw your panties.”
The banging and yelling continues, and the doorknob is also yanked on. Your blood pressure rushes into defense mode when a nasty thought invades your brain, but you can’t ponder on it for too long. You’re clearly being rushed out of the car, and you’re half naked.
Jungkook looks down on the carpet for your missing undergarment, but something pink catches the corner of your eye. It’s your underwear. Up there on the dashboard.
More banging.
You don’t think you’ll get it on in time, this was already taking too long.
“Forget it,” you tell him, pulling your skirt down. “You want me to stay in the car, or what?”
“No, fuck,” he groans. He easily pushes the passenger seat forward and unlocks the door so he can get out.
The door flings open. All hell breaks loose.
“Oh? Now you open the door?!” The girl yells.
“Giselle,” you hear Jungkook say, and what sounds like scuffling. “Stop.”
“You got a bitch in there?!”
A bitch…?
Oh, god. You roll your eyes, nervousness catching in your throat. Was this his girlfriend? A hookup? You’d forgotten he was a fucking fuckboy. You should’ve expected this if you were going to be around him in public and in general.
What were you thinking? How much of a piece of ass do you look getting fingered in the back of his car at a party. And then to have some chick yelling at him about his endeavors.
You didn’t have time for this. You got your nut. It’s time to make like a man and bounce.
So you slip out of the car after obtaining your wrist wallet from the pocket behind the seat, expecting to make a quick getaway. However, Jungkook was guarding the passenger door and there’s a girl standing in front of him, fuming.
She’s a popular senior that you’ve passed by a few times on campus, two years above you and Jungkook. You never cared to know her real name, but you did know that she was too old to be red in the face over someone like your acquaintance. Unless… this was her man. But Jeon Jungkook didn’t date.
“Is this who’s getting your dick wet now?” She, Gigi, or Giselle, looks you up and down, flips her dark hair, and crosses her arms. “What a downgrade.”
You blink, honestly not fast enough and too confused to respond because you didn’t expect the insult.
“Cut it,” Jungkook firmly states.
“How about you cut your penis off and stop fucking everything you see?” Giselle steps in his face, and it kinda pisses you off that he lets her and just turns his head to tongue his cheek in annoyance. “What’s on your lips? Gloss? And that cum stain and your boner tells me all I need to know, did I interrupt?”
Ew. What a fucking bitch.
Your face scrunches up at her attitude and the way she’s talking to him. It’s degrading and weird. This can’t be his partner. Jungkook is never one to not voice what he has to say or be talked to any kind of way, so you assume her and him have history. But whatever history it is… It damn sure wasn’t healthy.
“J-Jungkook..?” You mumble, grabbing on his arm that’s blocking you to get him to move. Giselle’s eyes snap towards you, and Jungkook presses you back as she steps closer.
“And whoever you are,” Gigi points a French tipped fingernail at you. “Don’t let me catch you again, bitch.”
Was that a threat?
You know that she expects you to be quiet, too, to not retaliate. Probably because you are docile and sweet looking. And she thinks she can run anyone simply because she’s gorgeous and wears nice clothes and has a reputation to uphold. But you don’t do disrespect. Not over dick and balls.
So you step up to that fucking fingernail in your face, holding her eyes.
“Or what?”
She’s stunned. Eyes freezing at the fact that you opened your mouth to talk back.
You were shy, okay. But you weren’t a spineless bitch. Putting your pussy in Jungkook’s face was number one proof.
It’s quiet between the three of you for a second, just the sound of the breeze and university students laughing and talking as they exit the party. Inside Giselle’s head is loud with anger though.
“Princess, in the car.” Jungkook breaks the silence, coercing you to sit down in the passenger seat.
“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that? Really?” Giselle questions behind him. “Jeon. I’m talking to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hear him say before he shuts the door. You listen in on their conversation as you let out a breath. “We’re not together. She has nothing to do with what we have going on anyways.”
“Fuck you, Jeon! Seriously!” You hear Giselle yell and watch as Jungkook’s figure crosses in front of the mustang. “You should know that I don’t take disrespect lightly. Not with any of the whores you talk to! Everyone knows that!”
Jungkook simply reacts by shaking his head and opens the driver side door, getting in and revving the car up. He glances over at you. “I’ll take you back to the dorms, okay?”
You take a little while to respond as he pulls off of the grass and through other cars. You were too shocked about whatever that was, upset about how she talked to him and her disgusting first impression on you. Sure, Jungkook wasn’t a saint, but she damn sure wasn’t one either. She was awful, and to be a popular figure at the university… You were glad you kept to yourself.
In other thoughts, Giselle had to have been Jungkook’s ex. Maybe they were on a break, and she was being celibate while he still fucked around. It made the most sense for her to be mad over. Then, he said they weren’t dating, so maybe not.
Sigh. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know.
“Uhm…” you quietly speak up as he nears your dorm building. “Brandon has my car keys.”
“Why?” Jungkook asks.
“I don’t know, I think he was just playing,” you answer. “Sorry… I should’ve said something before you zoomed out of there.”
“No, it’s fine,” he says. “Get inside. I’ll get your keys and car for you by morning.”
“Jungkook—“
“I’ll get them.”
You close your mouth at his sharp tone, eyes fixating on his tattooed hand gripping the wheel. You hope he will get them smoothly. Too much chaotic shit already happened, and you didn’t want to be at fault for anything else.
“T-Thanks… Be nice about it, please?”
He chuckles, and you light up a little at his mood lightening, despite that altercation a few minutes ago. “You can talk your shit, but I can’t talk mine?”
Please. You were not going to go head-to-head with Giselle over dick. Only if it came down to her hitting you first... However, Jungkook’s a fighter, whether he’s hit first or not, so Brandon should think twice about playing with him.
“Still… be nice. Thanks.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
You awkwardly open the door and get out, grabbing a hold of your wrist wallet. Before you can close it, Jungkook stops you.
“Forgetting something, princess.”
You bend down to see him holding your pink panties out to you.
“Jungkook!” You snatch them, balling them up in your hand and looking around to make sure no one saw. Like you both were doing a drug deal.
“I can keep them up here as a souvenir, if you want.”
“N-No, bye.” You embarrassingly shake your head and close the door, biting your lip as you turn and enter the building. Jungkook’s mustang doesn’t noisily speed off until you swipe your identification card and the door clicks behind you.
You palm you warm cheeks as you ascend up the stairs to your floor.
What a night…
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺ ♥︎ ༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
🍓⊹。ෆ
Your residential assistant brings you your car keys in the morning, saying that they were left on the office desk without a word but your name. You thank her, going to look out your window to see your car parked across the lot in reverse.
How nice of him.
You wonder how Brandon acted when Jungkook approached him for them. Tsk. Probably tucked his tail and gave them up right away. It secretly annoys you that you couldn’t get them back yourself, but hey, sometimes guys won’t listen until another one makes them. Sad to say.
You jump back into bed after doing your morning routine and pull up your chat with Jungkook. You should thank him. For getting your car keys and bringing your car. Not… for fingering you and giving you your first orgasm. That’s weird. And you shouldn’t pry into his situation with Giselle. That would be weird to ask about, too, when you and him are just acquaintances having fun.
Okay. Let’s forget anything else happened. Be normal.
you: hi. thx for dropping my car off
Send.
Except, it doesn’t. The message is green, and you’ve seen Jungkook’s iPhone that he rarely loses sight of.
What?
No way.
You huff, pretty loudly. Chin plopping down on My Melody’s plush head.
You send another message, a period. To act like you forgot to put it at the end. It’s green. And you’re not getting the option to send it as a text message.
You call, too, the call not going past the first ring.
You’re… blocked?
“Wow…” you mumble, not knowing how to describe your confused emotions…
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
♥︎pixieknj 🎀⊹。ෆ
feedback, asks, and requests are welcomed! read more here!
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ggukiepie · 14 days
Text
strawberries n cream 🍓⊹。໒꒱ | JJK (18+)
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♡chapters: one / two / three / four / drabble♡
​⊹🍓series ❤︎ ˚ ༘ ⋆
❥pairing: jungkook X black!reader
❥genre: smut, ex lovers/fwb
❥summary: jungkook’s late night visit to your dorm 🍓…
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
❥!!warnings!!: rough sex/fight sex, detailed smut, some toxicity, crying during sex [nothing sad lol], mention of choking, hickeys, fingerprint bruise
❥other warnings: sexual intercourse, raw sex [please use protection!], oral [fem receiving], some fingering, jungkook is so p^ssy whipped and clingy, puppy jk, princess nickname, pillow princess reader [she just wants her nut okay🎀], mention of weed, comparing brown coochie to food 🍫🍓🍦, featuring jimin, POV switching
❥word count: 3.9k
-inspo: seven by jungkook ft latto, gif from jjkgif on twitter, pics from Pinterest
-author’s note: Seven made me push my other wips to the side and write this soo here it is. I love the song and how Jungkook’s been lately so I was deeply motivated. I am still working on updates, but thank you for waiting. I also have some fic recs to share that I’ve kept. I hope you enjoy this for now💕!
-dedicated to: @maltate123 @mayawastaken26 @lelewright1234 @frogs2857 💗 they’ve been motivating me so much to finish my drop, thank you! and @jkoo-njoo because I miss them 🫶🏽
———————————୨♥︎୧———————————
Jungkook showing up at your dorm at 2:30 in the morning brandishing a My Melody plushie and your favorite snacks further enacts the futility of Jimin’s ability to keep his mouth shut.
What other reason would your ex-slash-situationship be knocking at your door with big eyes and damp, curly hair? With how dramatic Jungkook is, anyone else would have thought he trekked through the light drizzle outside to come comfort or grieve with you. But you know why he’s begging you to let him in and accept his gifts of… proof.
You don’t say anything as you leave the door open for him and go back to making your fruit bowl on the counter. You’d finished showering and doing your skincare routine to prepare for bed, but you’ve been too restless to sleep, hence, why you’re eating. Jungkook appearing out of nowhere looking like that isn’t going to help either.
The sound of him closing and locking the door and then slipping out of his shoes has your skin burning in goosebumps. Only now do you notice your frilly, revealing pajama set when Jungkook sets down his offerings and comes up behind you to hug your waist.
“Princess.”
You ignore him, arranging your strawberries and kiwis on top of the pineapples in the bowl. Being mean doesn’t seem to bother him much at first, since he tightens his grip and steps closer, shamelessly sniffing your sweet skin and watching you make your late night snack. His chin digs into your shoulder until you finish off the dessert with whipped cream.
“Princess,” he calls again. But you shake him off and eat a strawberry slice. You’re supposed to be relaxing. It’s becoming impossible with his breath on your neck and the beat of his heart on your spine.
“Jungkook, seriously…” You scold, finally turning around and looking at him head on. “You never understand what space is.”
Jungkook’s eyes are all twinkly and round when he sees you, despite the reddening in them that you know came from smoking weed. You can faintly smell it on his gray hoodie as he presses you up against the counter.
“I’m clingy, so what?” He mumbles. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not ignoring you,” you lie.
“Missed calls, missed texts… Telling Jimin you need to stay away from me,” Jungkook lists off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Urgh. You knew it was Jimin. A best friend playing both sides in between meant anything you said would make it to the other ear. You could just picture him with the nastiest grin ready to tell your ex all you’ve said about him. Jimin does it to you, too, smiley and hyped about news he needs to tell you about Jungkook.
“Not everything is about you,” you sigh. The way he’s confronting you has suddenly decreased your appetite and replaced it with nervous adrenaline. “Why are you even here?”
“I can’t come check on you now?”
You scoff. “That’s not why you’re here.”
Jungkook licks the piercings in his bottom lip, a solemn expression of that of a puppy’s gracing his boyish features. His head falls to your shoulder in slight shame.
“You think that lowly of me?” He asks. “That I’d walk all this way in the rain for some ass?”
“You’ve done much worse,” you remind him, pushing him off so you don’t have to hear him manipulate his way back into your underwear. Not that it takes him much effort. You think he talks how he does because it makes his dick hard and easier for you to succumb.
Jungkook clicks his tongue at how you read him but follows closely behind you to the other side of the dorm, plopping down onto your bed right next to you like it’s his own and cuddling one of your many Sanrio plushies, half that he bought. You roll your eyes and grab the remote to put on old cartoons, realizing he’s not going anywhere.
Leave it to Jeon Jungkook to be the attached and sickeningly pathetic lover boy of an ex. You hate that he still wants to see you and hang out. You hate that he doesn’t disown you to other people and shit on your name. You hate that he holds onto the connection between you both like it’s his lifeline.
He treats you as you did when you were dating, and it fucking sucks. Even though you lost him, you still have him, and it eats at you that you pushed him away for shit he didn’t have anything to do with. It’s not fair how you’re treating him in return, and you know he deserves better.
Your mind isn’t in the right place to give itself to him like he wants. But your body is. Always.
So you only resist a little when he tugs you into his side, ensuing the push and pull of tonight’s theme. Undoubtedly, the best atmosphere for the best sex. Jungkook understands how he’ll have to play to get your tiny, lace panties down your legs.
Determined, obsessive, and just as hateful back to take control.
Jungkook caresses your skin for a while before he’s pulling you over him, hips pressed together and grabbing your wrists to keep you from fighting him.
“Just give it to me,” he grumbles against your neck, seeing no need to keep beating around the bush. “Don’t you know how bad I wanna fuck you?”
Of course you do. He shows it every time, acts like he can’t go a day without you being wrapped around him or he’ll go insane.
His mouth drags kisses down your jaw as if you’re his last everything and that he needs to prove to you he’s worthy by giving it his all. You briefly think about how deliciously bruised he’d have you in mere minutes when he starts teething at the spot on your neck, aiming to get your pussy drenched and inside of you as quick as possible. But you’re not stupid. Remembering why he’d came over.
“N-No marks.”
Jungkook pauses to lean back, chortling a “What?”
“Don’t give me a hickey.”
He blinks. “Why?”
Don’t you understand blooming little flowers on your flesh is his favorite foreplay for a reason…
You, however, hold his puppy dog eyes and state as seriously as you can, “I just want you to make me cum and then get out.”
Fuck, you’re being rude. But you couldn’t bring yourself to explain about your stupid dress and how you need your skin free of Jungkook’s stupid blemishes for your stupid date in less than 24 hours.
Hickeys mean someone is dicking you down. Hickeys mean you’re taken. You don’t want whoever to see Jungkook’s bruises on you and assume you have a lover.
And you’re positive he knows about it by how he tongues his cheek. Now you’ve pissed him off. He thought Jimin was half fucking with him when he mentioned you were seeing someone.
“Fine,” he huffs, maintaining a calm demeanor, and goes back to leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Obeying your wishes and using more tongue than suction.
His plush lips still get you horny nonetheless. They feel cloud-like against your sternum and the nipple Jungkook frees to suck in between them. He’s already so set on giving you what you want, well-versed in what to do, even the promises of not actually fucking you could deter him.
His bedroom eyes have your thighs clenching as he leans up to unzip his hoodie like he means business, revealing a tank top and toned arms, sharp tattoos. There’s a gold chain around his neck that adds to the sneaky-link/boyfriend look, and you go to mush imagining how you’re flopping this whole situationship so bad.
But it’s okay. Jungkook is fucking it up just as much, for he’s kind of an asshole behind the doe eyes and really fucking crazy about you. Had to work on some anger issues, but that emotion didn’t help win you back the first time. Now, it’s hard to tell what either of you are doing anymore and why he can’t leave you alone.
He doesn’t want you to become just a girl he used to know. Never.
A pretty girl who loves getting her pussy ate any time of the day isn’t how he wants to remember you either, but how could he stop giving you princess treatment, treat you as anything but? You are his princess, and that for sure isn’t going to be taken away.
Jungkook’s jacket is discarded on the floor and so are your soaked, delicate panties after he tugs them down your ankles. He noisily whines at you spreading your legs for him, aware how all the sparkling shades of brown and the bit of pink on the inside makes him want to devour you whole.
Your skin smells of your strawberry shortcake body wash when he bends to suck on your inner thigh, unapologetically biting and marking there because he really can’t help it. He doesn’t believe you’ll let anyone near his prized possession out of respect anyways, no matter who your date is. This is wholeheartedly his pussy.
It’s why you don’t complain about him adding more onto those fading bruises and willingly hold out your tongue when he brings his fingers to your mouth to suck. He sucks on them after you for good measure, rubbing your clit for a second before sliding two inside.
A dimpled smirk graces his face as you nod your head back against the pillows and moan, grabbing his wrist.
“There she is.”
Jungkook takes a swipe of your cunt with his tongue and slides his fingers in further. Just to tease you with what you’re missing, because he knows you love being stuffed full by his cock over oral... So then he’s taking them away from you, pulling you closer by your hips and settling your thighs over his shoulders. And plunging tongue first into your pussy.
His lip piercings rub against your folds as he sucks and nibbles, stiffening his muscle whenever it nudges your swollen clit. There’s no strategy in mind when he goes down on you, so he’s everywhere, licking hard, more so focused on how good you taste and the wetness coating his mouth.
Jungkook groans as you run your fingers through his scalp and push his head closer, arching your hips in a rhythm he hazily matches. You whimper a “fuck” when he lets you take control of his tongue for a second, tilting your head and tightening your thighs around his neck.
“Right there,” you tell him, watching him eat you out like he can’t get enough, hungrily kissing your cunt like he would your lips. He groans back in acknowledgment, not risking speaking over your buildup. But you don’t want to suffocate him, knowing how dirty you play when you’re about to orgasm.
So you push his curly hair back over his forehead to give him some air, seeing him slowly blink up at you with his tongue assaulting your entrance. His brows angrily furrow and his eyes roll closed as if he’s lucid dreaming this, like he’s in his own world. With the addition of his breathy moans on your pussy, you’d think he was addicted.
Jungkook has you cumming in less than seven minutes from his ministrations, although he could have hung it out for hours if he really wanted to. Your sexy, quick orgasm is worth it with how you’re trying to ride out the high, your legs squeezing his head and tongue captive while your cum oozes.
It always amazes him how he can eat you til you cream your pretty pussy right before his eyes. In addition, the rich and saccharine taste of your essence competes with that of strawberries and cream.
Chocolate-covered strawberries and cream to be exact.
He feels the need to let you in on it, too, and forces his tongue into your mouth. You moan and kiss him back, licking the taste of yourself off your lips when he disconnects.
“You really want me to get out?” Jungkook questions, breathless. You can feel his dick against your leg.
You shake your head. “No…”
You can’t have dessert without dinner anyways, right? Why did you think you would be able to kick him out right after? Jungkook is a certified munch and eats cat the same way he fucks. How could you pass up another round?
“No? You want me to fuck you, princess?” Jungkook whispers, your cunt throbbing in new arousal at how he holds your eyes for confirmation.
“Yes. I want you to.”
Jungkook purposely takes his time to pull off his muscle shirt, enjoying how you start toying with your nipples while you watch him undress.
You swear his sleeper build is insane. Muscles and abs, pert chest littered in hickeys you gave him a few nights back. Going feral over that deep v-line of his as he undoes his belt and tugs his baggy jeans down.
You literally moan at the sight of his pretty dick slapping up against his abdomen. You want to swallow it down your throat til you can’t breathe and choke, but then you think about how giving him the best suck of his life isn’t exactly “leave me alone” behavior… None of this is.
Jungkook is left in his gold chain necklace as he repositions between your legs, and you are already about to tear up when he pulls your hips up on his waist for the angle and spits on you. Mixing it in with your past orgasm and then over the dusky head of his dick as lubricant.
“Jungkook…”
He’s taking too long admiring his tip tease between your folds. He looks down at you with a smug grin.
“You want it that bad? Just so you can cry?”
You shyly glance away at the taunt, feeling small underneath him and not as in much control. He has the upper hand for the rest of the night, and it’s going to be hell.
Jungkook digests your silence as submissiveness, and he dislikes that. He wants you to bark back, get feisty with him, and equally as pissed as he is about that date. You would be livid if he was putting his attention into another woman.
It is pure betrayal he feels when he presses himself to your entrance and pushes in all the way. No moment to adjust like he usually gives you. Just hard and raw cock kissing your cervix in one thrust.
“What’s your fucking problem?” You hiss at the sudden sting. It’s ridiculous that you try to hold him back.
“You’re my fucking problem.”
It comes out in a growl, and before you can ask him what the fuck he means by that, he’s gripping your thighs to push them to your torso, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into his back as he begins thrusting.
“Oh, fuckkk,” Jungkook whines in your ear. You’re tighter like this since he has to fuck you open and can feel you wetting his dick even more for easier slip. But he jerks his hips through the death grip you have around him that he’s sure he’s hitting your g-spot by how loud you’re getting.
His skin starts stinging from you scratching so sharply you draw blood, but he keeps going. You’re losing it, truly, grasping onto the back of his neck and shoulders to hold your ground as he fucks you hard into the mattress.
“I’m right here, princess,” he reassures you and pecks your lips. Your face is scrunched up in pure pleasure, mouth agape, eyes watering. “Feels good?”
You nod.
He knows it feels good, feels like you’re teetering between life and heaven.
“Yeah?”
“Y-Yes, yes, fuck, so good,” you loudly moan, palms falling to his shoulders when he angles his hips a bit deeper. You go to push him to let up, but he moves your hands out of the way, thrusts barely faltering. His stamina and consistency is nothing to play with.
You get a good grip on the hair at the back of his neck next, but it doesn’t stop shit. If anything, Jungkook seems to enjoy how hard you tug at his damp hair while he pounds into you ruthlessly. Speeding up as if he’s about to cum like a masochist, but controlling himself to glide into the pace again.
You want to pass out from how he’s beating your pussy like you owe him money. Your ex is too strong to shove off you, and you’re only weakening with every snap of his pelvis against yours, with every fluttering in your lower stomach. Your eyes are pricking in tears, and you know your orgasm is at the edge.
“Is my princess gonna cry?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hands off of him again and actually stopping to give you a breather. “She’s so big and bad until I fuck her…”
Jungkook lets you fight at him for a bit more because, yeah, you really can’t take dick. Definitely not good, mental dick like his. You cum a lot from the slight pain, though, so he isn’t going to ever deny you your sick pleasure.
Plus, you love it so much. Getting thrown around and manhandled how he likes. He can barely pick up a rhythm after he pins your wrists down to the bed beside your head, you clinging onto him with a baby trapping grip. He grinds so thickly into your walls and against your love button to make damn sure you can sense him in your stomach days later.
Jungkook maintains eye contact as he looks you in the face and lets you cry about it, saying sweet nothings on how pretty you look and how you’re taking his big cock like a good girl. You cum again, holding out for Jungkook so that he can, too. Which he does by pulling out and cumming on top of your sex. He just needed to see that creamy ring around his shaft and knew he could finally let go.
You both lie side by side to calm down and cool off afterwards, staring up at your fairy lights quietly and listening to the sound of another thunderstorm brewing outside. Until your ex tries to cuddle into you, and your heart beats to hurt as much as your cervix.
“Get out.”
“No.”
You sigh. No shit it wasn’t going to be as easy as telling him to leave.
It’s back to ignoring him while you get up and head to the bathroom to pee and turn on the shower. Jungkook, to no surprise, slips in behind you, too. The shower is only big enough for one person, but he doesn’t care. He gets into the crowded space with you, wrapping his arms around your waist with his soft cock against your ass.
You clean and lather each other in your strawberry shortcake body wash and complimentary lotion before leaving the bathroom. Jungkook gets in your bed butt ass naked, so you decide you mine as well do the same.
You allow him to hold you this time, tracing your waist and the curve of your spine until you doze off.
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
The thin scarf around your neck shockingly looks amazing with your strapless dress.
It’s more natural and fashionable in a not-trying-too-hard-to-impress-your-date kind of way since it covers some skin, although you wouldn’t have to wear the damn scarf if you didn’t wake up to Jungkook next to you.
You forgot he chokes you until you’re near death so that your orgasm has a higher chance of killing you than he does. Now you have a dark fingerprint bruise on your neck and ten more on your hips.
He finally allowed you to kick him out by afternoon after demolishing another fruit bowl dessert you made him, to which you’re sure that’s not the last of him, but it’ll do for tonight. He’s the biggest cockblock, and you’d be stupid to bring your date back here if it gets far.
Unfortunately, the universe continues to voice its disdain for the split from your ex and prevents you from escaping him.
Your date, a college peer, brings up Jungkook over and over at the restaurant. Asking if you two were high school sweethearts, seeing each other, or if he needed to talk to Jungkook before taking you seriously. Like he needed a blessing from him.
Detaching Jungkook’s name from yours and yours from his would be impossible when everyone watched your relationship from beginning to end, rooted for you both. Jungkook lives in your skin everywhere you go, and you have to accept it.
The evening gets boring fast. The guy is more interested in you and your ex’s situationship than you. And constantly bringing up how gorgeous you look and that your skin is glowing, instead of any individuality questions. You think he would personally praise Jungkook if you told him he was the reason for the afterglow.
You don’t order dessert or bother to offer more of your time by declining his ride back to the other side of campus. It starts raining, too, but you decide better on going alone.
You’re waiting for an available lyft ride when you get a message, your battery beginning to drain the rest of the juice it has left.
chimmy🤍: lol ur date thinks ur into him
chimmy🤍: texted me that he thinks ur really cute and wants another date
you: 🖕🏽hell no.
you: he’s boring and jungkook would scare his ass off easily
you: not for me :(
you: just tell him I had a great time
chimmy🤍: will do 🫡
chimmy🤍: did u make it back already??
You glance around the half empty restaurant and the dark parking lot being pelted in rain. On the app, there’s no rides nearby because of the thunderstorm.
you: im gonna walk
chimmy🤍: bitch.
chimmy🤍: if u dont text ur man
chimmy🤍: i set up the perfect date for u two to angry fuck
you: we did that last night and this morning but whatever
chimmy🤍: gasp!
chimmy🤍: fucking disgusting how u cant keep ur hands to yourselves geez..
chimmy🤍: text him
You groan, but you try not to think twice about sending Jungkook your location right before your phone fades to black. You feel terrible about texting him after the way you’ve been treating him as disposable, so you wouldn’t be mad if he decides to ignore you.
It’s fine.
The rain doesn’t seem to be slowing down almost ten minutes later, and you deserve to get drenched in this date outfit.
As you go to step off the covered platform, a figure suddenly knocks into you from the street. They stop you from tripping over yourself in your heels, holding you upright.
It’s Jungkook.
Dripping wet and panting as if he’d ran a marathon.
You weren’t expecting him to come…
“What happened? Why are you crying?” He rushes over his words after getting a good look at you. “Where is he? Imma fuck him up.”
You can’t help but to giggle at Jungkook looking inside of the restaurant windows for the guy, more emotional tears stinging your eyes. You hadn’t noticed you were crying the whole time you were standing here.
“I’m okay.”
You hug him, wiping your runny nose on his wet t-shirt. Jungkook squeezes you tight for a minute, noticing you still sniffling and steps back to cradle your face.
“Then why are you crying, princess? Tell me.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you sigh. Pulling his palms from your cheeks and holding one of his hands. You can’t believe your feelings right now. “Let’s just go. Please?”
Jungkook looks from you to your hand and then back at you again. It’s been a while since you’ve held his hand platonically, but he instinctively grips yours back, comforting.
“Wherever you wanna go, princess. I’m right here.”
“With you,” you say.
“Okay, princess.”
Jungkook removes his jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It’s soaking, but it’s the principle that makes you gush at him being so boyfriend and so adorable.
You offer your hand again before he twines his fingers between yours, stepping out into the cold, pouring rain, walking contently through the darkness together.
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
2K notes · View notes
ggukiepie · 14 days
Text
[ BEST FRIEND!JK HOUR ]
12:00 am
“mm,” your bottom lip’s trapped between your teeth, you’re letting out soft whimpers and tiny little moans as you’re jostled back n forth on jungkook’s cock.
he’s reaching deep inside, cock curved just right so that he’s brushing over your g-spot. with a heavy hand he shoves you deeper into the bed, deepening your arch as he grunts and pants quietly from behind. “fuck, look at you,” he hisses as he lands a loud smack on your ass, “got it bouncin’ n creaming all over my cock.”
you mewl and lay your arms above as you turn your face into his pillow and close your eyes. he rocks you back n forth until he’s filling ur cunt up with cum, and with a pout you begin fucking back on his cock as your ass ripples loudly. he hisses in sensitivity while gripping your cheeks tightly, “shit baby—jus’ like that, throw it back for me. got this pussy dripping,”
GNNNNN i was bored again n decided to write this smutty prompt, the sex is filthy n the dirty talk worse. just u wait n see best friend!jk soon..
1K notes · View notes
ggukiepie · 16 days
Text
BANANA MILK | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader
genre: smut, a tiny bit of angst
word count: 5.6k
summary: when a porn video accidentally plays on his tv, jungkook makes sure you watch.
playlist: banana milk / pinterest board: wine
warnings: forced and consensual porn watching, crotch grinding, dom/sub dynamics, plenty of desperation, praise and degradation, reader has daddy issues (like the writer,) oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, biting, pet names and a particular title used, handjob, plushie used during intercourse, spanking, raw sex, squirting, size kink, multiple orgasms, cockwarming
note: this can be read as a standalone, however it's a part two of my fic 'wine'. you guys asked for it and i delivered. <3 i wrote this entire fucking thing in a trace and on my phone, and i still don't understand how i managed to do that. even though i struggled in the beginning, i enjoyed writing this as soon as i got into it. there will be a part three as well—from jungkook's pov. so as you read, look forward to it next sunday. let me know what you think in the comments, don't be shy! mwah ᡣ𐭩
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Following the shapes of the sunlight on the parquet floors, your small feet are warm. The clicking of fingers on a sleek keyboard takes you, momentarily, into a hazy frame of mind. You feel as though you’re in a novel yourself, and the sound is a mere announcement that your steps, calculated in depth—thought through, plotted, and cared for—are counted by the man a few feet away from you, the writer, the long lost poet. Counted patiently throughout the rising action until they reach, at last, the climax.  The notion unfolds within you, unfurls little by little in a way that you like, for it makes you feel exceptionally alive and poetic. It casts a languorous smile upon your shimmery face. Perhaps it’s due to the double meaning because you’re here for a reason. Or perhaps you owe that smile to the easy joy blooming in your chest, one that was sown hardly an hour ago.
You were in a bookstore, skimming through a paperback that enveloped you in blue dreaminess. The language you had the honor to graze with the pad of your finger was flowery in a way that stirred something within you—something that is noticeably sprouting to life. The furniture of the room was dark and antique under the yellow dimmed light, very much like the one you have at home. It was so you, a true personification of your whole being that made it quite difficult to leave, even though you had something to look forward to.
You were convinced it was your home.
A home that you came around to for the first time in your life—how strange.
You bought the book. It had to be yours, and you had to have a keepsake, a direct link to your hideaway. You set it by the wall next to your shoes and your purse with a pink photocard holder, pulling out a certain bottle of happiness that you brought along for your friend.
The sunlight strips take you straight to him, your feet—kissed by the sun—padding softly on the floor; the third step of the rising action. Jungkook sits slumped on his coffee brown couch with his laptop propped on his lap. His shoulders, clad in a denim sweatshirt, hunch in ever persistent concentration, a Word document opened and being swiftly filled with Hangul. Persistent enough that he doesn’t twist his head to greet you. He knows you’re there. Heard the sweet sing-song beep of his passcode being accepted, letting you in into his solitary life. Knows you didn’t forget it this time because he didn’t have to stand to his feet to open the door for you as he so often did in the past.
You wrap your arms around his neck from the back, tits squished against the nape from the low neckline you chose to wear for the day. It shreds his concentration to smithereens; you feel him inhale raggedly through his nose, fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard. You press your lips against his scarred cheek, not as plump as they usually are because they are still pulled taut into a smile, and whisper, “hi, Ggukie.”
He turns his head to face you from the side.
“Hi,” he breathes. There are peachy specks of glitter scattered all over your eyelids and you watch him study them, round eyes flicking between each one of them as if he can’t get enough of them—as if there are more for him to greet the more he looks.
And he’s right. There are.
His tender mien causes your heart to clench, overflow with a continual stream of endearment for him. You notice the mark of your guileless kiss on the apple of his cheek, the lip gloss pink and glimmering. Decide to leave it there. Decide it suits him well.
“Close your eyes,” he says, and you do.
He drifts the pad of his thumb along that delicate skin. Not to disturb the artwork, no. But to acquaint himself further with it. It’s been a long time since you wore glitter. It’s been equally as long since you were this happy—he senses it, the little iridescent stars tell him somehow. There’s so much of it that when he lifts the digit, the eye makeup stays intact, as if he hadn’t touched it at all. Jungkook flicks his eyes to the craftwork of his stained fingertip, the glitter, the stars nuzzling homely within the lines. Smiles as he mumbles, “pretty.”
You kiss him airily as a thank you. No hands, not anything. Just your lips puckering from the little distance between the pair of you. You retrieve the bottle of happiness from your back pocket and hold it against his hard chest.
Confusingly, with lips rounded, Jungkook looks down and gasps.
Banana milk.
“Come here.”
He hauls you down onto his lap like you weigh nothing, his laptop pushed away to the cold side of the couch. You squeal, pulling your hair as you lay against them and try to find a better position, discomfort painting your features in a way that makes Jungkook scrunch his nose adorably. He lifts your neck and gathers your hair, smoothing it down on the leather. You look up at him. The stars have migrated to your glossy eyes.
“Where’s yours?” he asks, hand placed on the crown of your head, the other clutching the chunky bottle protectively like a child.
“I already drank mine.”
Jungkook pierces the paper lid with the slim straw and takes a sip. Lowers it until it pokes you in the line of your lips. Nods at you, encouraging you to drink.
Your heart clenches again, and the thoughtful gesture makes it swell. It suddenly feels like your chest is very tight, like there’s no space for your organs. You massage the feeling away, wrapping your lips around the plastic, taking a few sips. No hands, not anything.
“You’re a sweet boy,” you whisper, a dollop of the creamy liquid adorning the oily pinkness of your lips.
A bright blush creeps along his cheeks, settling along the bridge of his nose as it ever so often does. Gazes down at you, then at your lips. Scrunches his nose again as he shakes his head, bending to peck you delicately, tongue swiping across your bottom lip, cleaning you up. His habit at this point.
“I’m a man.”
Your face grows hot. The imprint of your lip gloss stained his mouth and it worsens your state, deepens your dreaminess. You’re leaving small parts of your being as marks on him. You find that beautiful, in all its simplicity.
“Sweet and pretty,” you add in a hushed whisper, more to yourself than him.
Twinkles, akin to your glitter, flood his eyes and they deepen in thought. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and when he drifts the palm of his hand down your throat, curling around your collarbones, you realize he’s having flashbacks. 
Wine. Neck. Tongue.
The cause and effect on your panties in mere seconds. 
Your helplessness. The way you apologized for coming because you weren’t allowed. 
Jungkook smirks and so do you. Lets his palm roam down to your tits, discovers only with the lift of his finger that you’re wearing a lacy blue bralette under your top. 
“So easy to pull to the side,” he comments, more to himself than you. Doesn’t look at you when he begins to fondle them, transfixed by their fullness. 
“That was my—”
“How was your day?” he cuts in, a breathy concoction of a hiss and a moan escaping his mouth once he feels your nipples stiffen under his hand. Index and thumb come and squeeze at that nub, coaxing a hum out of you. 
Your brain degrades slowly but surely, metamorphosing into mush. You struggle with your memory, abruptly unable to remember where you were and what you did before you were half spread across his lap.
“Good,” you try. “Fantastic, actually.” 
Jungkook smiles. Pinches your nipple again, fingers pressing flat and moving up and down. You moan out for him, writhing in a newly, softly burning desire.
“Really?” 
“Yeah, went to the bookstore.” 
Did you? 
“Bought anything?” 
His hand drifts back to your neck, never losing skin-to-skin contact, wraps around the column, then goes back down to your tit. This time, to your neglected one. Gives it the same attention. 
You don’t remember if you bought anything.
Zoning out, you focus on the pleasure, fluttering your eyes closed. Figure this is just a meaningless talk that doesn’t require truthful answers or any for that matter. You widen your legs, calling out for his touch there. This is what you came here for. He doesn’t need to know about the itty-bitty parts of your soul.
Jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you up, guiding you to straddle him. You poke the banana milk, propped against the backrest, with your knee. Despite your now lustful haze, you’re careful not to knock it over. 
A billow of the whole night lines his eyelashes, arousal blanketing his irises. You run your hand through his hair—can’t help yourself, you’re just obeying your body’s intimate wishes—and tip his head back, his soft strands sifting through your fingers. You draw near to his slightly parted mouth as if to kiss him, but you’re here just to tease him, to make him want more just like he did to you, hovering your lips above his. His slowly quickening inhales add much to your wooziness and you go to hide in the crook of his neck, but he stops you dead in your tracks when he says, “you came here to get fucked, didn’t you?” 
Your laughter is but a breath. “How did you know?”
You kiss him there, incorporating your tongue, sucking the sensitive skin for a mere beat of time. And just like him, you discover why he likes kissing your neck as much as he does.
A film of goosebumps shrouds the small portion of the exposed skin of his chest that you’re allowed to see. Jungkook moans lowly, gripping your ass and pulling you closer to his semi-hard crotch, sinking lower into the cushion. Eager hands hook under the hem of your top and fling it out of you, latching onto the back of your neck and drawing you to his face. 
He doesn’t kiss you.
He begins to talk.
“I waited for you all fucking day,” he murmurs against your lips, sucking in a breath of air as if there wasn’t enough in his lungs, as if voicing out his desire exerted his energy. 
“All I could think about were those fucking tits,” he confesses. “Those hips of yours, so small in my hands. That pussy, fuck. I wanna eat it,” he groans, furrowing his eyebrows. “God, I wanna eat it.” 
You nod to each and every word of his, grinding your pelvis against his, mewling into his mouth. 
“You understand what I’m saying to you, don’t you?”
You nod again, your body begging you to be allowed to arch your back, but the grip Jungkook has on your neck prevents it from happening. The fire of desire burns bright, made bigger and blue by his spluttering sparks.
“‘Course you do, you’re my good little girl, aren’t you? Smart and educated,” he praises and your walls clench. “Let me eat your little pussy.” 
“Please,” is all you manage to utter before he holds you steady by the waist and lays you down on the couch. 
Your shoulder blade hits the remote control and a sudden echo of a girl’s moan booms through the room. Both of your heads swing to the TV to see a girl humping her teddy bear, barren down to her full femininity except for her panties. She plays with her nipples, pulling on them while flicking her hair back, hips rapidly moving back and forth on the nose of her big fluffy friend. Mesmerized and completely sobered up from your drunkenness, your clit gains a heartbeat, your teeth sinking into the bottom of your lip.
Jungkook hastily rummages around you to find the remote. You stop him. 
“Leave it on.”
He blinks at you, mouth agape. You smile at him, thumb brushing along his knuckles as you take the remote from him and place it on the coffee table. The gesture smooths down the wrinkle between his brows. His blush deepens, the color of roses stunning you. 
Undoing your jeans, he pulls down your zipper. “You want me to eat you out while you watch porn?”
You nod. “Yes, sir.” 
Jungkook sighs, sagging your pants down to the middle of your thighs. “Don’t call me sir or I’ll fuck you in the ass right here, right now.”
“Hurry, she’s almost done.” 
He spanks you harshly and you squirm, quickly reminded of his need to be in control, but he listens to your need. Rewinds the video back. Slaps the remote back down onto the wood of the coffee table, which makes you burst into giggles and Jungkook smirks, folding you in half, dragging your panties to your jeans pooling above your knees. The center sticks to your core, causing him to growl, hand coming to wipe at the corners. The girl hops on the teddy bear. Moans fill your ears. 
He kisses your clit. Pinches the back of his sweatshirt and hurls it at your head, obscuring your view. You huff in frustration, throwing it back at him, but he catches it. Your breath hitches in your throat.
“You should focus.”
“You going all in for me?” you ask, speaking of his nakedness. 
Clothes come off on the verge of his climax, never before it; it’s so unlikely of him to discard himself so quickly. He usually keeps at least one item of clothing on, too hasty—too hungry to bother, until he can’t take the heat anymore.
“For you always.”
He dives into your pussy, tongue licking against your folds, nose pressed against your mound, inhaling you. Going up and down, he drinks you. Moans at the taste, eyes lidded and drunk as he stares at you through the little opening of your barely parted legs. You wish to spread them wider, the pleasure forces you to, but you can’t—the tight fabric won’t grant you the satisfaction. 
“Take it off of me,” you whine.
He comes up for air. “No.”
You whine louder, fingers grasping at the waistband. Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them down to the cushion, thumbs resting in the middle of your palms. He doesn’t let a drop of you go to waste, sheathes his tongue into your warmth as he fucks you, nose rubbing against your engorged clit. You tip your head back, lose a sight of him for a moment, digits naturally wrapping around his thumbs like a baby. A litany of curse words, broken by your moans that sync to the girl’s sounds of pleasure, fall from your mouth. You don’t even look at her, too busy—too distracted by the man below you, by the way his open mouth works against you, his dimples hollowing into straight lines, so akin to the sunlight strips that led you to him, as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 
You brush your fingers through his hair again, hold it at the roots through the small hole between your thighs. It provokes him enough that he looks up at you and finds you staring back at him. He growls against your cunt, a warning, the vibrations sending you back. Your eyes roll into your head and your hips follow, grinding into his glistening face. 
Jungkook hums. Sticks around to see if you’re watching the porn, slowing down the pace of his flicks. 
You’re not. 
Coming down from that wave, your eyes set back down on him. 
Jungkook peels his mouth off of you. Bends over you and grips your neck, pushing you down. The other hand spreads your slick all over your cunt, gliding back and forth. No pressure, not anything. Hearing your squelching noises, he mimics you. Also rolls his eyes back. Awakens the butterflies in your tummy. 
“Focus,” he hisses. 
You mewl. Ride his fingers to at least feel something, but you achieve nothing of the like. 
He spanks your pussy, another warning. 
You don’t listen. Can’t take your eyes off of him. Of the disheveled mess on top of his head, the sweat that pools at his hairline, the disarrange of his thick eyelashes from having his lids closed against your skin, the sheen of his nose, the wet puffiness of his lips, the kiss mark on his cheek. You take a deep breath. 
It’s impossible to focus on someone else other than him. Especially when he licks his lips, the tip of his tongue sailing around the arc of his lips—the arc of your character development. Swallows the dewiness he called out like teacher to pupil. 
You were a virgin when you met him. It was him who taught your body to get messy for him like this. His tongue that tasted your girlishness first. All your first times were with him and continue to be under his ever strict but safe supervision. 
Under his custody in a way. You do call him Daddy after all. 
“I missed your cuntie so much,” he husks, tightening his grip a tiny bit to emphasize the importance of his words. “But I can’t eat it if you don’t watch.” 
His index finger turns your head to the side and his other hand travels down to your wet heat. The girl clutches her friend’s fur in her fist and fucks him slowly. With each roll of her hips upwards, you can see the shine of her slick adorning her folds. Jungkook sinks two digits inside. Can barely fit them in due to the way you clench around him. You fight his hold against your cheek, needing to look at him. 
“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he whispers. “My horny little baby.” 
He keeps them there, at the beginning of your hole, pumping sluggishly. Doesn’t look at the girl. Didn’t do so ever since the video started playing. His eyes only drink in your reactions, the twist of your features, the little sounds and breaths that break out of your mouth, gracing his ears, making his cock hard. 
It disturbs something within you. Stirs it to life. Kindles it radiantly, adjoining it to the fire of your desire. You know what it is, but you can’t bring yourself to accept it. It’s a feigned reality, one of a novel. Not the one that could ever be applied to your life, burst at the seam, engulf the radius until it absorbs you. 
You’re not that lucky. You’re not lucky to have him in that way. 
You’re lucky enough to have him physically connected to you once a week. 
But emotionally? 
Tears prick your waterline. 
“I want your tongue on my clit,” you croak out, reckon it’s better that you listen to him, watch the girl make herself come, follow her footsteps and go home. 
Distance is safe. Distance heals everything, particularly emotional attachments. 
Jungkook ceases his slow movement. Lowers your legs down so they repose across his thighs. Strokes the tremble of your muscles, removing your jeans and your underwear. Keeps that dangly fabric hanging off of the edge of the coffee table. Caresses your face as he says, “Daddy wants that, too. So bad. But you gotta be my good little girl and watch it. Then Daddy will play with your little clit.” 
“Okay.” 
He settles back into his position between your legs, enfolds your thighs around his shoulders. Placing a tiny kiss on your pussy lips, the soft fleshiness of your thigh steals his attention. He begins to plant big, wet kisses there. Alternates between nibbles and those kisses, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t make out. 
The girl’s furry friend is drenched in her wetness. You buckle your hips with need. 
“I want to hear your apology,” he orders, lips pressed against your skin. 
You look at him and mewl. 
“Eyes on the TV.” 
He bites you. 
You hiss in pain. “I’m sorry.” 
He kisses the pain he caused. “What for?” 
“For watching you,” you whisper, a lump forms in your throat and is softened by the look of endearment he gives you. Doesn’t reprimand you for keeping your eyes on him. 
He latches onto the voluptuous part between your hip and thigh, marks you there. “And why did you watch me?” 
You bite your lip to cage the words you really want to say behind your teeth, but some of them slip out. “Because you’re beautiful. Too distracting.” Because you look at me, and not at her. 
Jungkook hums. Kitten licks your clit to reward you, lips wrapping around the bundle to suck it. Makes a sound of satisfaction, eyes closing to drown in the feeling. Lets go with a pop. Does it again. Suck. Pop. Suck. Pop.
You moan. Near to the last step of your rising action. One more and you’ll reach your climax. You keep your eyes peeled on the girl, her screams guiding you to that sweet release. 
“My good little girl. Making me weak. Making me drunk,” he mutters against your pussy, blowing cool air against your dewiness; you shiver and he laughs softly. “Come for me, baby. Please.” 
He sucks your clit again, but manages the pressure. Makes sure it’s light, so you enjoy it as much as he does. 
“Keep watching it. You’re doing such a good job. Keep those pretty eyes on the TV.” 
A new texture rubbing against your pussy surprises you and a moany gasp escapes you. You look down to find his dear Hello Kitty plushie in his hand and the different, rough sensation tears the rope in your belly. 
“That’s it. Ride her. Fuck yeah. Make a mess on her for me. Good, good girl.”  
You gush out, your orgasm taking over your body. Trembling, squirming, you thrash your hands in search of something stable that would help you ground yourself. Jungkook doesn’t slow down his movement but he finds your hand, finds the other one too, and pins them above your head. Bends over you and watches you closely, watches those waves surging through your body until they still. 
He kisses you, then. 
“Such a good girl for me. Well done.” 
You struggle to catch your breath. 
And there’s no oxygen left in your lungs when Jungkook begins to rock his hips against his plushie, the button of her nose pressing deliciously against your sensitive bundle. Your moans come out in staccatos, dry and breathless. Little squeaks of pleasure that make him crazy. Eyebrows furrowed, stare dark and fixed. 
“Fuck, Jungkook. Oh, fuck.” 
He laughs and you expect to be degraded, having realized that both of you forgot, for the first time in months, to do so, but he rams into her and nudges his nose against yours. Dimples prominent, mouth stretched into a grin. A sight to die for. 
“I could come like this, baby. But I want to feel you. Need your little pussy around me. Might go crazy if I don’t fuck you,” he says hastily, chucking the plushie away. “They might lock me up.” 
You might have wanted to go home, but who are you to deny him when he’s this desperate for you. 
Butterflies swarm in your belly. And you laugh. 
“Fuck me, baby. Come on,” you say, the pet name on your tongue scorching your whole body. 
Jungkook hums, palms his hardness as the outline of his cock makes you salivate. While you reach for Hello Kitty to hug her because you need something solid to hold onto, he pulls out his heavy length out of his sweatpants. Wanting him naked, your fingers push down the material and you uncover that he’s not wearing any underwear.
You curse under your breath, your pussy drooling for you. 
His member slaps against his stomach and you hiss, your saliva collecting in your mouth at the sight. He grips himself, throws his head back. You focus on his red tip, on the evidence of his arousal agleam in the sudden shadows of the room. The video stopped playing; silence replaced it instead. You care very little for it, entranced by his manhood, by his defined abdomen, the hardness and roundness of his pecs and the small, singular mole right underneath. You find yourself longing to kiss it, swipe your tongue against it and you fulfill your body’s wishes.  
You get on your knees. Hello Kitty falls in the middle of them. Jungkook curiously watches what you’re doing and when you do what you longed to do, he moans softly. 
“Princess,” he sighs, moans again when you brush your fingertips against his nipple. “You make me feel so good.” 
“Yeah?” you question, looking up at him, fingers tweaking his nipple and he vocally shows you how much he likes that. 
His sounds of pleasure, the variety of pet names and praise makes you feel woozy all over again. Your pussy dampens the plush fabric, adding to the mess. 
“Feel how hard you made me,” he whispers, guides your hand to his length, wrapping your fingers around his girth; you show him, too, how much you like that. “Spit on it.” 
You don’t have to be told twice. 
Spreading your liquid love all over him, you grip him tight beneath the mushroom to coax that delicious hiss you love hearing. You begin to move your hand from there, sliding his foreskin up and down. His groans are a panoply of pure beauty that you wish to own forever. You wish you could freeze time right now. Deem this is as close to paradise as you could ever get. 
This is where you want to be, for all eternity. 
You lick over his nipple and Jungkook sobs. Sounds just like you when he plays with you and it makes you sob just the same. You hold it in, though, think this is a time reserved for him only. Concentrate on flicking the nub to make him feel good, squeezing his tip. He deserves it. 
“I’m gonna turn myself in,” Jungkook whines. “It’s your fault.” He kisses the top of your head. “You made me crazy.” 
You laugh, quickening the pace of your hand that soon slows down when he sultrily orders, “hump her for me.” 
“Fuck,” you let out, eyes wide and round as you look up at him. “You want me to ride her?” 
A rumble of agreement passes through his lips. “Make Daddy proud.” 
You withdraw but Jungkook clicks his tongue. 
“Keep your hand where it belongs.” 
Your jaw falls open. 
He guides you back where he wants you, meanwhile you rearrange the plushie and sit down on her nose, cringing at the cold wetness you left there. 
You rock your hips once. The dull pleasure numbs your senses, electrifies your body. Before you’re even aware of it, you hump her like your life depends on it. Your hair lifts and falls around you gracefully in spite of your pace, little strays sticking to your flushed face.
“Slow down, fuck,” Jungkook groans, placing his hands on your shoulders and wrist to stop you. “Slow, baby. Can you do that for me?” 
You listen, even though it’s evident you don’t like it. 
He chuckles. “Good job,” he praises. “Fix your face.” 
You smile up at him, cracking into a gentle laughter. Out of breath, out of your mind. 
“That’s it.” 
He kisses your forehead. Reaches behind him and grabs the banana milk. Points the straw at your lips. You gulp it down loudly. Jungkook fixes your hair in the meantime. 
Sitting down, he hauls you onto his lap. Your back presses against his chest, the tip of his shaft aiming at the middle of your belly. It scares you, how deep he can go and you turn your head to look at him with wide eyes.
He squeezes your tits, pulls the fabric to the side. Pinches both of your nipples at the same time before he kneads the flesh. Your roll your hips against his manhood, leaning your head back against his shoulder. 
“You’re just too small, aren’t you?” he whispers against your cheek. 
You meow a soft sound that confirms his words. 
“Won’t even fit in you. Need to stretch out you for me,” he says, hands traveling down your stomach. “Can you even take two fingers?”
There it is, the degradation. But it’s so tender that you can’t even believe your own ears. You mewl again, finding it so hot that he talks to you like this, knowing you took three of his fingers the last time he touched you. 
“I can,” you say and there’s allure to your words, your pussy grinding against him. 
He hums. Maneuvers you a little so his cock sits against your ass. Plays with your slick just to hear the filthy sound before he plunges two of his fingers inside of you. He curls them and is brutal as he pistons into you in fast jerks, the muscles in his biceps bulging. With his free hand, he makes sure you gaze at him and he nudges his nose with yours. His short breaths fan against your cupid’s bow and in return, you feed him your moans. He swallows each and every one, his pace never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Your stream of pleasure shoots out onto the coffee table and Jungkook would miss it if his reflexes didn’t act out for him. He groans, strumming his fingers against your clit to prolong your orgasm, lifting you to ram his hard length into you. 
You welcome him embarrassingly fast, smothering him until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Because he entered you mid climax, it triggers another one and you scream, thrash your body that he encages with his arms around you, one hand flying to your neck to keep you down. He presses his lips against your temple, lulls you with gentle sounds. Mutters apologetic words, words of encouragement, praise and reassurement. All while ramming his cock into you. 
You’re forgetting the day and time. Hell, you’re forgetting your own age and name. All you know is dick. 
His dick splitting you open as your head knocks back and forth. 
He squishes your cheeks, pressing a kiss there, and it brings you back. You open your eyes, blink a few times. Yelp as he fucks you deeply and holds. 
“You’re taking me so well,” Jungkook husks. “You always squirt for me, don’t you?” 
You nod, dumbly. He plunges his fingers into your mouth to gather your saliva and takes them down to your clit. He rubs it, and he rubs it in fast circles. His other hand finds the soiled plushie and he crams her into your arms. You cuddle her, needing the comfort. 
“If I had a vibrator, I’d keep it right here on your little clit the whole time and break you fucking apart.” 
You clench around him, signaling him how much you like the idea.
“I know you’d like that. The thought of it won’t let me sleep. Might have to get it for you after all.”
Your surroundings are foggy. Another surge of orgasm reaches for you to get you. Your whole body shakes. You hug the plushie tighter. 
You prop your feet on his muscular thighs and weakly, you snap your hips down on him, setting a steady pace that makes you see stars. 
Jungkook ceases your movement. Grabs your waist tightly. 
“Stop or I’ll come.” 
You fight against him, pushing down on him. He lets you. 
“You want Daddy to come for you?” 
“Yes, please, I’m so close,” you squeak. 
“Hold onto her then.”
He meets your thrust, groans at the impact, at the teamwork. Has a deathly grip on you and Hello Kitty that bruises you, stills you as he ruts into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive, abused femininity. You’re losing everything; you’re losing yourself in him, in his manhood, in his desire and pleasure. Submitting all that you are to him, willingly giving over all that you have left of your being. Knowing it will be safe, knowing you will be taken care of. 
And with that you come, and you come hard. You coax his orgasm, beckon it out with the one final clench of your pussy around him. You milk him dry, stars clouding your vision and the warmth of his hot spurts of cum filling you to the brim. Jungkook whines. 
He loses it completely. 
Babbling sets of incoherent words against your cheek, he kisses you there, drags his kisses down to your jaw and your neck, squeezing you and Hello Kitty in his arms as his cock stays sheathed inside of you. 
Two things you do make out when you come down. 
A string of pet names directed to you. A bunch of ‘baby’, ‘princess’, ‘little girl’, all held close by the prefix of ‘my’. Held as close as he holds you. 
And something else entirely.  
“I love being inside of you. Whether it’s with my fingers or my dick. I don’t care. I just love being inside of you. You feel like home.” 
He strokes your hair, over and over, from the side like that. From the crown of your head, past the curve, down the side of your neck. All while kissing your skin. Tiny little kisses that soothe you, lull you into tranquility, prove you utterly wrong. 
But you’re still delirious from your high. You don’t realize what he said. 
You don’t realize that your home isn’t within the walls of that bookstore but within the arms of the man that holds you. 
And you don’t realize that he feels the same way.
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
BACK to masterlist / read part one
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ggukiepie · 16 days
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thirst thot: imagine jk n u being the red flag best friends tht act like couples even tho u say ur not dating. im talking jk walks with a hand on ur ass, smacks it when he passes by, has u on his lap whenever y’all hang out. ur friends r like used to it so no one bats a eye, they don’t know sometimes he has u cockwarm him during movie nights. at night when y’all r all sleeping in the living room he quietly whispers in ur ear “please baby, just the tip?” and u take more than the tip🩷
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ggukiepie · 16 days
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my minimoni
#j
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ggukiepie · 18 days
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ggukiepie · 18 days
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To Give a Helping Hand | jjk (ch 2)
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☆summary: when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you've been wanting him just as badly as he's been wanting you.
☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: smut, idol!au
☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: mentions of hard drugs (in a metaphor, no character does hard drugs), jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), fantasies about female oral sex (face riding), ball fondling, a tiny bit of marking, exhibitionism (they are in a car?), deep throating ish?, mouth fucking
☆word count: 3.1k
☆a/n: pure unedited sins again bc you guys asked for it and I am far too horny for mr jeon jungkook (thank you, calvin klein). I also wrote this when I was severely depressed and in need of a distraction so my bad if it sucks haha
☆☆☆☆☆
Jungkook watches himself in the mirror. His hair clings to the sweat on his forehead as he curls his arms, the strain enough to make him wince. Yet he pushes through, finishes the motion and then goes for another one.
He always trains until failure. Because it’s the best way to grow muscle, yes, but also because he likes the pain of it. Likes the burn, likes to put his body through the worst.
He knows he can take it.
It helps that you’re just a few benches away, doing some Hungarian squats. Twenty-five-pound dumbbells in each hand, you’ve been going for twelve reps each time, your focus unfaltering as you stare at a spot on the floor in front of you.
Jungkook wishes you’d look at him.
His next bicep curl ends on failure, and he winces as he lets go of the weights, putting them down on each side of the bench. He grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig of it as he looks at your reflection in the mirror.
You’ve got perfect form, your strong thighs pushing up on what he thinks is your fifth – sixth? – rep on your right leg. Your muscles shift under your skin as you move, and Jungkook forces himself to look away.
He doesn’t want to end up with a boner like he did last time. He’s been ashamed of himself somehow, and he doesn’t want to repeat it.
But it’s like you’re keen on teasing him. On being a walking nightmare, with those same devilish biker shorts that fried his brain that time. He’d told himself that he’d approach you, but so far he hasn’t been successful.
Indeed, you’ve suddenly decided to start coming to the gym with a friend, and though your friend is cute, with dark skin that hints at a perfect skincare routine, Jungkook doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.
But yes, you’re keen on teasing him, doing squats next to him after he’s moved to do shoulder press on the machine. Indeed, despite all the squat racks being empty in the gym right now, you choose  the one right in front of Jungkook, and it’s a battle of will to refrain from looking at your ass each time you’re bending down.
So Jungkook looks up to the ceiling, pushes up, and he clenches his jaw at the strain in his shoulders. It’s a good burn, one he knows will leave him sore, but it’s also one that leaves him thirsty when he finishes his reps. Unfortunately, his water bottle is empty, so he walks to the water station, the music in his earbuds loud.
He’s almost done refilling his bottle when you come up behind him, with your own water bottle in hand. He feels your eyes on his profile and, heart suddenly racing, Jungkook meets your gaze.
You already have a small, knowing smile on your lips when his eyes find yours. Beautiful as ever with your high ponytail, Jungkook finds he gets lost in your gaze, unable to find the exit.
It comes to him when the water in his bottle overflows and he makes a mess on the floor. You chuckle and, despite his cheeks burning, Jungkook faces you fully.
“You come here often?” he asks over the sound of his earbuds, and he quickly takes one out.
If you’re surprised that he’s speaking to you, you don’t let it show. Instead, you raise your water bottle, motioning towards the water station. “Just a couple of times per workout.”
Jungkook feels like an idiot, yet he steps aside to let you fill up your bottle. He doesn’t walk away though, just watches you, and damn if you aren’t even more beautiful from so close.
It isn’t fucking fair.
“I’ve noticed we often come here at the same time,” Jungkook says, scrambling to find something to talk to you about.
You offer him a corner smile as you finish filling up your bottle, twisting the cap back on. “We do.”
He purses his lips, wondering if you can hear the thunder in his chest, and then he says, “I’m Jungkook.”
Your eyes twinkle with mischief, and he wants to curse himself because obviously you know who he is. But you surprise him, replying with your name and a polite bow of your head, and immediately mirrors the motion.
Then he says your name, and he has a feeling it’ll become his favourite word to moan whenever he comes. It’s inevitable – the lust he has for you is clouding his vision even now, as if the rest of the gym is fading out of focus. You don’t disappoint, holding his gaze, lips slightly parted as if you, too, are imagining what it’d be like to be together.
To tangle in bed together, up until the rest of the world cease to exist.
Is it stupid that Jungkook asks for your number next? He doesn’t think so. Especially not as you oblige, putting it into his phone. It feels like a victory – a huge one, one he knows he’ll celebrate in an entirely not appropriate way, yet he can’t stop himself from smiling to you.
It’s like you’ve given him strength to finish his workout grandly. Indeed, he maxes his PR on his next two exercises, and he leaves the gym with a comfortable soreness in his arms and shoulders, right after he’s taken a quick shower.
To his surprise, you’re standing outside, near the building in the dim light of dusk, eyes glued to your phone when he steps out of the gym.
“Need a lift?” he can’t help but ask.
You startle and he does feel bad, up until your features break into a smile that makes his heart race in his chest. “Just waiting for the bus,” you say.
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, surprised that you can afford this gym yet use public transport. He wonders, are you the kind of girl who cares about the environment to the point that you decided not to get a car? Something about the thought is adorable, and Jungkook toys with his lip piercings for a few seconds.
“I mean, I really don’t mind lifting you if you need to,” he repeats, hoping with everything in his soul that you’ll say yes.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you insist, scrunching up your nose cutely. “But thanks for offering.”
He takes a few steps towards you so that you don’t have to speak so loud anymore, desperately looking for something else to say. “Where’s your friend?” he asks, thinking he’s a genius for asking.
“Sera?” you answer, as if he has any clue what your friend is called. “Oh, her boyfriend picked her up earlier.”
“He didn’t offer to drive you?” Jungkook says, not bothering to hide the condescendence in his tone.
You wince. “I fear that’s too much to ask of Yeonseok.”
“Then I really must drive you home,” Jungkook insists, offering you the sweetest smile he can convey.
“And what, find out where I live before you’ve even taken me out on a date?”
It’s like the world stops turning, and all Jungkook can see is you, and that twinkle of mischief lighting your gaze.
“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, fully aware of that bright pink Kooky plushie swinging from your keychain right now.
“Who wouldn’t?” you tease.
He narrows his gaze, yet can’t help but play along with you.
He’s been going insane for this moment for weeks after all.
“Then let’s say this is our first date,” he says. “We can drive around and if you like it, I’ll drop you at home, if you don’t I’ll drop you somewhere else. Deal?”
You smile, genuine, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal.”
And that’s how Jungkook finds himself in his car with you seated next to him, your head bobbing along to the music on the radio. Though you’re quick to turn towards him, your gaze burning on his profile.
“How long have you wanted to talk to me?”
Jungkook chokes on his saliva, and he coughs as he glances at you, the tip of his ears reddening. “What?”
“You think I haven’t noticed you staring at me every time we work out at the same time?” you tease, and you laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.
“You’ve been putting on a show, it’s not my fault.”
“I have?”
He lets out a non-committal sound that makes you laugh, a crystalline laugh that sounds like he’ll get addicted to it far too easily. Like heroin – one hit and he’s a goner.
As you laugh, you rest your hand on his thigh, giving it a quick, playful squeeze.
Insane. He’s fucking insane for you.
“Listen,” you say after a tense silence with your hand on his thigh. “I really am not looking for a relationship right now.”
He hears the underlying truth – you wouldn’t date an idol. He doesn’t blame you.
It’s not like he plans on ever dating you anyway.
“But if you want some fun, then I’m all in.”
His throat feels dry, and Jungkook wets his lips, glancing at you quickly. The mischief has shifted into pure lust, something he wasn’t expecting he’d see right away.
Hell, he’d imagined he’d have to work for it. But you’re offering yourself on a silver platter, and he’d be fucking dumb to let the opportunity slip away.
“You aren’t what I expected,” he says.
No, you are ten times better.
You run your hand up and down his thigh, head tilted to the side as you look at him. It’s hard to focus on the street in front of him, especially as his dick already starts getting hard.
“I hope that’s a good thing,” you let out on a low, breathy tone that makes him truly lose touch with sanity.
“Have you ever seen the city from the mountains?” he asks seemingly out of the blue.
You pout, glancing towards those you can see in the distance. “On hikes, yeah I have. Why?”
“I know a spot.”
He doesn’t actually, but he ends up finding one anyway after you’ve driven around for a little while. Though you can’t see most of the city from here, it’s still beautiful, twinkling lights looking back at you down in the city.
You admire the view, and Jungkook gets lost admiring you. Your profile is delicate, your hair still just as fluffy and unruly around your head. He instinctively pushes a strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as you meet his gaze.
The car fills with electricity, with an intensity that cannot be ignored, and Jungkook dives in, pressing his mouth on yours. You immediately kiss him back, your hand finding his thigh again, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth, lapping you up, making the kiss far too languid for his own good.
You let out a breathy sound that makes him see stars, and when your hand shifts closer to his dick, he feels all his blood rushing down. His own hand finds the back of your head, and he tilts his to the side to deepen the kiss, right as he softly grunts.
You’re a good kisser. All lips and tongue, and Jungkook wants to pull you on his lap, to keep on kissing you all night long, but it seems you’ve got other plans in mind. Indeed, you pull away from the kiss, leaving him breathing raggedly as he looks at you quizzically, but then you’re quickly pulling your hair back into a ponytail.
His heartrate skyrockets as he understands what will happen next. It’s like he’s stuck in one of his deepest, darkest fantasies, and you’re jumping right in with him.
You truly are devilish, aren’t you?
When your hair is safely tucked in a ponytail, you meet Jungkook’s gaze. Your eyes shine with undiluted lust, and it steals the breath from his lungs.
To be the receiver of such desire…
He’s going to come far too quickly, isn’t he?
You pat his thigh again, leaning in for another kiss. Jungkook immediately obliges, colliding his mouth with the softness of yours. You palm him through his pants the second he pushes his tongue between your lips again, and Jungkook grunts as he instinctively bucks his hips, seeking for more friction.
“You’re a little impatient,” you say as you pull away, and you glance down at where you’re touching him. “Maybe we should get you out of your pants.”
It doesn’t take more than that to convince Jungkook to push his pants down, and he’s soon sitting there, his dick out in his car as if someone can’t just pull up and see.
Yet the thought turns him on, and Jungkook is infinitely thankful that he took a quick shower at the gym when you grab the base of his dick, jerking him off once.
“You’re so big,” you breathe.
All he can do is grunt as you stroke him again, your grip firm. It feels even better than he imagined. Like heaven – your hand fits perfectly around him, and you expertly flick your wrist whenever you near the top.
All that’s missing is lube, but you’re quick to bend down, blowing a breath on the sensitive tip of his dick.
“Shit,” Jungkook lets out.
“You often get sucked in your car?” you ask like the brat you are.
He can’t reply. Not when you wrap your lips around his tip, and he thinks he’s floating out of his body. Your mouth is wet, warm and so, so soft around him he thinks he might just come already.
“No,” he chokes out as you swirl your tongue around him before pushing down on him, up until he hits the back of your throat.
It takes everything in Jungkook not to buck his hips and fuck your mouth. But he wants to be nice, wants to play nice, if only so that he won’t scare you.
He doesn’t want to lose you before he’s even had you.
He reclines his seat, allowing you a better access, and you reward him with a small moan as you can take more of him in, and it’s enough to make his mind spin with addictive bliss.
You pull away, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick. “Good boy.”
That’s it. He’s a goner. Especially when you truly get to work, offering him the perfect combination of sucking and tongue, of your hand jerking him off in time with the bobbing of your head. He keeps his moans low, more grunts than anything, but when you moan as he hits the back of your throat, Jungkook curses loudly.
“You like this?” you tease, blinking away tears from the gag reflex you’ve been holding in.
“Holy fuck,” he answers, and you laugh lightly before taking him in your mouth once more.
You’re drooling all over him, sucking his soul out of his body, and Jungkook feels his balls tightening.
Already.
“Wait,” he lets out, and you pull away, breathing heavily as you meet his gaze.
“Uh?”
He wipes the drool on your lips, and you immediately suck on his thumb, tongue teasing the pad of the finger. You’re going to fry his brain before the end of the night, aren’t you?
“If you keep sucking me like this I’ll come.”
You smirk, downright lustful. “Isn’t that the point?”
“I want to fuck you,” he says, and he hates that he sounds so pouty, but he can’t help it.
He wants to live every single one of his dirty fantasies with you, after all.
“And I want to know what your cum tastes like,” you counter, squeezing his dick hard.
Jungkook moans, his eyes fluttering shut, his defiance fully leaving him now. If you want him to come in your mouth, then he’ll happily oblige. And then you’re bending down, going back to work as he murmurs your name.
You’re better than he imagined, so much better, and his dick twitches in your mouth as you moan. He feels the vibrations all along his shaft, and he grabs your ponytail, increasing your rhythm. Pushing your head down on him so that you take more of him, and when you don’t complain, instead moaning again, Jungkook stops holding himself back.
He fucks up in your mouth, and your hand flies to his thigh, your nails digging in his skin. The slight pain sets his nerves alight with desire, and he loses himself in you, in the rocking of his hips as he snaps them up in your mouth.
You take him in, holding the gag reflex in, moaning as he establishes a quick rhythm to chase his orgasm. He thinks he’s in love with your mouth – you’re so good, too good to him. He highly doubts he deserves it.
Not when he hasn’t given you anything in return. And he wants to taste you, wants you to sit on his face until he can’t breathe anymore and he gets drunk to the taste of you. It’s that image that brings him closer to his high, so close he already buzzes with it.
You push him over the edge when you grab his balls, gently squeezing. He moans out your name as he comes, unloading his cum deep in your throat as you take over, bobbing your head up and down slowly to milk his orgasm.
And you do milk his orgasm. You fucking do – he’s truly, fully swimming in bliss by the time his dick stops twitching, his balls fully emptied.
You pull away from him, and he thinks he loves your mouth even more when you push your tongue out to show that you swallowed everything. It’s so hot he’d fool himself into going for another round, but the hour is getting late, and he’s got an early morning tomorrow.
“Holy shit,” he lets out.
You laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That felt good?”
“Fuck, yeah it did.”
You smirk, tilting your head to the side. “Happy to oblige.”
“I’ll have to repay the favour to you one of these days,” Jungkook says, and he hopes you don’t hear the underlying hope in his tone.
He doesn’t want you to think he’s been dreaming about you, about your body for so long.
You wet your lips. “Your place this weekend?”
And though maybe he should say no, as you’re the fan and he the idol, Jungkook answers with, “Bring a bottle of wine.”
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☆☆☆☆☆
Yeah this is pure sin. Porn with practically no plot hahah did we like it? Let me know what you thought!
1K notes · View notes
ggukiepie · 19 days
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THE FARMHOUSE MASTERLIST
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.
despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃: 02/22/24 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: tba 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends,cowboy jungkook,small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. will be approximately 6-7 parts
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part one: the storm, the envelope and the grandaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part two: the caretaker and the sister
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ggukiepie · 19 days
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wicked • 20
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↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 11k
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tags: mastubation (m), strip tease, slight dub con??, handjob, overstimulation, humping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (oops), oral (m) & (f), 69ing (OOPS), slight pain kink,
note: this is way later then it was supposed to be...anywayysssss enjoy !!! :)
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“How does it feel to be somewhere so familiar, Princess?” Wheein asked as she dressed you for the afternoon. 
You hummed as you let her continue to style your hair, “Familiar, but…different now. I was a young girl when I used to roam these halls, but I’m a grown woman now. I'm excited to see my parents, I hope they’ll be attending dinner tonight.” 
“It’s only a matter of time now,” Wheein hummed out as she tenderly braided and pinned your hair the way she wanted it, “I don’t mean to pry m’lady but…” She let out a soft giggle, “I can’t help but ask if you and the Prince are now…? Embracing your marriage?”
You couldn’t help but tense, you had tried really hard to be quiet at night but there were definitely a few moments you had been unsuccessful, “Was I loud?” you whispered in horror.
This made Wheein laugh in surprise, “So you’re embracing one another very well?”
You felt your face become hot at the realization that clearly you hadn’t been, but now you had ratted yourself out, “Just pretend I didn’t say that.” 
Wheein let out a soft giggle, “I’m happy for you both…After everything you both have been through, you deserve happiness together, you both have had to overcome a lot of things. Take pride in your relationship.” 
You gave a small smile in the mirror, “I appreciate your words Wheein. But enough of that, how are you fairing? You’ve never traveled outside of Penumbra before, right?”
Wheein nodded, “This is my first time, I’m nervous truthfully, something about it feels so…Heretical, but exciting…? I hope to be able to explore a little bit in the week we stay here.” 
This made you happy to hear, “Kimhae is very beautiful, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to go into the capitol to explore.” 
Wheein grabbed the crown, onyx, the same you had worn to your formal dinner, it would be a constant here in Kimhae as a show of status along with your wedding ring that dawned your gloved hands. 
“Finished. You look beautiful.” Wheein smiled in satisfaction, “Is there anything else you would like before we escort you to dinner?” 
You shook your head, “Nothing, besides your company. I missed you terribly when you were away. And while I enjoy Jungkook’s presence, he is by no means good with feather and fuss the way you are.” 
This made Wheein chuckle, her nose scrunching in delight, “Nothing brings me more pride than being next to you both. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.” 
Jungkook had left the room a little while ago upon Yoongi requesting him outside the room to talk about something. 
Standing up you brushed the skirt of your dress of the few wrinkles that had formed from sitting. 
This was one of your favorite winter gowns, sheer gold fabric lining from your neckline to your chest, covered in precious gems and the fabric ran to your forearms but it was concealed by bigger dramatic puffy sleeves the same dark midnight blue color of your skirt. 
Stepping out of the room Jungkook and Yoongi had ceased their conversation at the sight of you, “I’m not interrupting am I?” 
“Of course not your Highness,” Yoongi bowed to you, “You’re just on time in fact.”
Jungkook sighed as he peered out the large windows to the darkened skies, “We’re late.” 
“All the best couples are.” You smiled as he offered his elbow out as you grabbed ahold of it, allowing him to lead you down the halls, navigating to the main hall where everyone would be celebrating, after all it was the Eve before Yule. 
“His Highness, Jeon Jungkook Crowned Prince of Penumbra and her Highness, Jeon Y/n Crowned Princess of Penumbra.” The caller announced as the doors opened. 
It seemed the jolly sight inside had frozen despite the music still playing, you couldn’t help but feel nervous with so many eyes on you, but squeezing the bicep of your husband made you realize you were not alone. 
His crown stood tall on his head, dawned in his finest black and gold silk robes for the occasion, he looked like the epitome of confidence and power, and as his wife, you wanted to be his mirror, a strength to him, not a weakness.
You straightened yourself a little, lifting your chin as you let him help you down each step, eyes following you everywhere as people began to whisper, but after having been on the cold gaze of the Penumbrian court, you had found you clearly had hardened yourself to the stares.
Not letting them bother you the way they may once have. 
And in the crowd, there were two familiar faces that you had missed so dearly, that did not look at you as if you were a killer, “Mother! Father!” You called out, excitement pushing away the previous feelings of uncertainty, having let go of Jungkook to greet your mother.
Her arms were wide open, eyes beaming with pride as you buried into her, the sweet smell of nectar dripping off her body, the warm comforting smell of home, “My sweet daughter,” She ushered out, pulling away as she grabbed your face, “My look how you’ve grown, she truly looks like a grown woman, no longer our little princess.”
“I couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely daughter to be our future queen of Penumbra,” Your father grinned softly as you mirrored him, immediately wrapping him in a hug next, “We’ve missed you greatly so our little sun.” 
You smiled at them adoringly only to feel the towering height behind you, standing at an awkward distance, turning around you gestured your love over, “Come Jungkook, don’t be a stranger.” You let out a soft endearing laugh, this only made him awkwardly shuffle a little closer.
Uncertain of where to look or how to greet, “Your Highnesses,” He gave a small formal bow. 
Your mother let a quirk of a pout tug on her lips, “No son-in-law of mine will greet me so formally, come.”
You and your father glanced at one another before sharing a laugh at Jungkook’s pupils widening a little before briefly glancing at you before he hesitated, arms acting stiff in the brief hug before immediately dropping back to his side. 
“Surely you’ve hugged this poor boy my dear,” Your mother sighed, watching with a certain pity on her face before turning to you, “He treats me as if I am something to be frightened of.” 
Jungkook’s lips parted but you spoke before him, “We’ve embraced plenty, Jungkook is an introvert by nature,” You couldn’t help the affectionate smile tug on your lips as you placed yourself back at his side, arms wrapping back around his, “He doesn’t fair well with social events.”
“I can hold my own.” Jungkook muttered with a puff of his chest. 
“Don’t let their teasing get to you,” Your father chuckled, “I’ve never been one for social events either, Esme has always been the butterfly of us both.” 
“Oh don’t flatter me.” Your mother rolled her eyes playfully, “Come, let us sit, you must try the wine.” You let your mother lead the way as you all sat down at the large table, your eyes searching the massive party only for them to suddenly lock onto Seokjin’s, halfway across the room.
He appeared sulky, empty wine glass in hand and in a circle of aristocrats talking and he clearly was not paying attention, his gaze set solely on you. You blinked, immediately looking away as you smiled at the cup bearer, pouring you a large glass of wine. 
Taking a long sip you hummed in delight, “Eunoian?” 
“Imported,” Your mother smiled with love, “Kimhae has always been too tart for my taste.” 
“Tart and a twinge of sour,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “They never let their wine ferment long enough.” 
This immediately had your mother’s attention, a fellow wine lover, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight as she immediately began to complain with him and as she got him talking, Jungkook slowly but surely relaxed as he began his second glass of wine. 
“Come, walk with me Y/n,” Your father smiled, shaking his head at the sight of the other two engrossed in gossip of Kimhae, who would’ve thought Jungkook would get on so well with your mother? 
The wine was certainly helping all the same. 
“I would love nothing more,” You smiled as you stood up, taking your father’s arm as you both began to walk, “How has Eunoia been? I’ve missed it terribly…” 
Your father gave you a soft smile, while you had always been undoubtedly close to your mother but… due to her dryad blood, she had always been harder on you as a child, making sure you stuck to your rigorous schedule.
There were many days when she was the source of your tears, but your father? He was nothing but soft for you, always sneaking you sweet treats at night and on the days you would weep, he would read you stories until you fell asleep. 
His love was always so soft, barely detectable but you could always feel it through the trepidations of your childhood. 
“We are doing well, with the protection Penumbra has given us, we’ve dealt with much less bandit raids, our crops no longer plucked over. Your presence has been an irreplaceable void though.” Your father hummed out, “The throne room hasn’t looked quite right since you left, Arielle never had the straightest cut.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t say that too loud- lest she hear it all the way from Eunoia and kill all the foliage off in spite…Is she…” You sighed, you supposed you shouldn’t indulge the gossiping part of your brain, it was only a childhood rivalry, you were a grown woman now, those things should stay in the past. 
Your father however seemed to know exactly what you were saying, “There is talk,” He mused, “She does not have dryad blood though.”
“Perhaps that is for the best,” You murmured softly, your father peering at you in curiosity as you spoke softly, “Perhap it is time for Eunoia to leave our lesser human nature in the past?”
Your father hummed, “What has you thinking such thoughts, my little sun?” 
“...My stay in Penumbra has not been an easy one, I won’t deny it,” You murmured quietly, “I’ve suffered many trials and tribulations, the dryad inside me has proven to be very hard to contain…”
This made your father laugh, surprisingly, “So was your mother’s, her nature still can be from time to time.” 
“I just don’t understand, even after all these years. We strive for peace and yet all I want is war,” You frowned, troubled once more, “I want nothing more than to wrong those who have wronged me. And I hate it, revenge has a bitter taste.” 
“It’s an inherent nature,” Your father replied, tapping your arm comfortingly, “It’s inside all of us, you are inclined moreso from the polarized nature of a dryad. The beautiful thing about it is that we cannot have life without death. Your mother was never the best at explaining it,”
He sighed wistfully, as if accepting this about his wife, “But it always seemed to me that as a dryad, your duty is to balance it, not strive for one or the other. The giver and taker of life, it may run through your blood but you are not a god Y/n, it is not your calling to be one or the other. But I’ve always seen great things in you. I’ve always felt you’ve been called to mediate the conflict of the giver and taker, give life where it is needed, death when it is warranted. These things are scary when we’ve been taught only one is right, but it is not impossible.”
Dead eyes flashed in your mind, your grip on your father’s arm tightening a little as you took a long breath, “Then why is it I always seem to only bring death?” 
Your father frowned, a sad look in his eyes, “You were but a child Y/n, too young to be put in the tents, but your mother was insistent. Death is the only thing guaranteed in life, we must all face it eventually, some sooner than others. This is the way it is meant to be, you did the best with what you were taught.”
You stared at the ground before you murmured, “And…what if…I broke my vow…? What if I had taken a life on purpose?” 
Your father paused, slowly his eyes lingered on your figure, your expression was full of sorrow and lament, he tenderly brushed your shoulders, “My words would remain the same, you were never meant to uphold one value or the other. I trust you would never do something rash, if it were not called for.”
You both began to walk once more and for a long moment you thought of his words before you were plagued by a forgotten thought, “I’ve heard….stirrings, rumors.” 
“In the beast itself?” Your father laughed, “Do tell.”
“Rumors that…” You lowered your voice, “Eunoia is building an army…?” 
Your father paused in somewhat surprise, “Really now?” He paused thoughtfully, “Well, I suppose it would seem that way.” 
“But it isn’t?” You raised your brows hoping that it certainly was not what it seemed. 
“Did you know that the dryad’s were not just healers?” Your father gave you a knowing smile, “But they were also warriors, it was said they were gifted with the sight of knowing, shooting arrows that could hit even targets from miles away. We have decided to take up the divine dryad’s way of Archery- a form of weaponry, in honor of Penumbra for the Rite of Peace.” 
You paused…archery…? Everything made so much more sense suddenly, and it dawned on you that while you knew much about Eunoia, you still had so much more to learn about your ancestors. 
“I…I love that Eunoia has decided to pick this back up in honor of Penumbra,” You gave a small smile, somewhat relieved, “Jungkook will be thrilled to hear this.” 
“Ah…” Your father hummed, “And I do assume your husband has been treating you well?”
Your nod became somewhat shy, “We didn’t speak the first month but…well circumstances arose that no longer allowed us to hate one another…And somehow, we…began to understand one another? Misunderstandings truly are the root of hate aren’t they?” 
“Hate makes all of us blind to the reality of life, nothing is fair, nobody is ever truly free, we all have our burdens and trepidations to bear, not one better than the other. When we embrace intentional kinship, to set aside our differences, and truly learn from one another with compassion and understanding, we are at our strongest…”
Your father hummed before he looked at you for a long moment, “Though it has not been long, you seem older now…Wiser, patient…You both suit one another very well.” Your father praised. 
“I would’ve hated those words once upon a time but…” You gave a satisfied hum, “You are right, I couldn’t think of another person I’d want as my husband.” 
The evening went on, you and your father had many people come and socialize with you both, many royals and aristocrats alike wanting to know about Penumbra, about the Wicked Prince, about the tall tales that came from its lands. 
You indulged none, and left everything vague, giving only knowing smiles and cryptic words, after all knowledge was a currency of its own for royals. 
It was well past midnight by the time you and your father had arrived back at the banquet table to find your partners well past the point of sobriety, your mother and Jungkook sharing a loud boisterous laugh as he cackled, “I wish you had seen it, the sword went flying out of his hand and the look on his face was that of a child.”
“Oh come now Jungkook he can barely hold a cup with two hands let alone a sword!” Your mother cackled out, near empty cup in hand. 
“It seems we’ve made our timely arrival,” Your father let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, “Come now Esme, let us not insult our host’s family too loud,” He pulled her chair out offering an arm to her, “We ought get you to bed.” 
“I agree,” You replied, standing next to your husband’s chair where he was slightly slumped, crown crooked on his head, “We should retire, my love.” You leaned down, fixing his crown back straight. 
His hand caught yours as he pressed an amorous kiss against the palm of your gloved hand and a silly little smirk on his face, “If that’s what my goddess wishes.” 
You felt your face becoming hot at his words, clearly the liquor making him much more boldly flirtatious then he would typically be in a public space. 
Jungkook stood up only to wobble a little, you immediately grabbed his arm, not offering as much support as you wished, but you only needed to get him as far as Yoongi, who was coolly leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room. 
You waved Yoongi over, his eyes immediately catching your figure as he pushed off the wall, “Can you please get Jungkook back to our room?” You asked.
“Of course, Wheein will escort you back then I presume?” Yoongi asked and you nodded, with that he took your husband back though not without complaint of you not being by his side. 
You only smiled briefly only for your vision to be blocked by your mother, grabbing you with an adoring look on her face, very clearly drunk, “While I had my reservations about him, you both make a lovely couple Y/n,” You giggled softly at this as she continued, “And hopefully you’ll make even lovelier grandchildren for me.” 
“Grand children!?” You nearly choked on your words.
Grandchildren…? 
“Now, now Esme, leave her be, that is their business,” Your father tutted, “Goodnight Y/n, we shall see you in the morning…Or at the very least I will see you in the morning.” 
You waved goodbye but your mind was fried at her words…children…You…you hadn’t even thought of children, which was incredibly stupid given the amount of unholy sex you were currently having, with absolutely no regard of how many times your husband emptied himself inside you. 
Your hand ghosted over your stomach as you wondered, what if you were pregnant? It was a brief thought with no actual evidence to back it up. 
But the idea of blue eyed, dark haired children running around suddenly filled your heart with so much joy, you could hardly continue the girlish smile you had, children…Surely Jungkook wanted children, right? 
You pressed your lips together in uncertainty, being the heir to the throne meant it was an expectation but…You didn’t want to bear his children if he wouldn’t share the love he had with you to them. 
It was late and you supposed these were conversations you would need to have at a later date with him, sooner than later given just how fast you both had been going. 
You called Wheein over as you both exited the party.
The hallways were dark and you had just reached the end when a voice called out, “Y/n…” 
Wheein frowned as you both paused, turning around as you noticed the lone figure at the other end of the hall, Seokjin…Wheein briefly looked at you with a quirked brow. 
“Seokjin, my apologies for not greeting you at the party, I was catching up with my parents.” You called out as he approached you.
“Nevermind that,” He offered an easy, charming smile, “I know how much you’ve missed them, but…I’d like to speak to you, alone…”
Wheein shifted immediately, not liking this one bit as she stared at the foreigner, briefly looking at you once more, and you could tell she didn’t like this, “It’s late Seokjin, I was just getting ready to retire for bed…”
“Indulge me, just for a moment.” Seokjin asked, holding a hand out to you. 
You stared down at his palm, and for the first time you noticed the lack of calluses on his hands, his skin incredibly soft, “...Very well, where would you have us speak?”
“Just up ahead, in my office, your maid may go I will-”
“My maid will stay just outside the office,” You cut him off, Wheein giving a curt nod at your words, “Lead along, I do not have all night.” 
Seokjin frowned, eyes lingering warily on Wheein just as her’s did, almost as if sizing one another up before he walked ahead of you both and turned off onto a hall before he stopped, it was vague but you did remember being in his office a few times. 
He stepped inside as Wheein whispered out, “Will you be okay m’lady?” 
“I’ll scream if I’m not.” You gave her a reassuring smile before you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. 
It all came at once, the sudden feeling of invading your personal space, his body pressing into yours and his hands wrapping around you, “Oh my love,” He whispered out, “You’ve become a marvelous actress, but you should be taking my lead to not make things more difficult for us.” 
Your body immediately tensed, these were not the arms you were used to being wrapped around you, and these were not the lips of your husband against your ear.
Seokjin pressed his forehead into yours just as swiftly as you were pushing him away, “I am no actress, what is the meaning of this Seokjin?” 
Seokjin’s lips slowly curled into a frown at the evident step you took away from him, a safe distance between you both clearly feeling like a rift for him, “I’m here for you.” He spoke quietly, “Albeit he wasn’t supposed to be here but we can make this work, some plans will simply have to be altered.” 
You blinked several times, “Plans…?” 
Seokjin nodded, a smile slowly curling on his lips once more as he took your hands into his, “We can talk more about it later, but just know that we will be reunited once more Y/n, it’s been sickening…watching the way he drags you around as if you are nothing more then some doll, his hands touching what is not his.” 
Your stare hardened as you slowly shook your head before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Seokjin, it seems I was not clear last time we spoke.” Though you felt as if you distinctly remember being perfectly clear, “We are no longer an item, we have not been since the day before my wedding.” 
Seokjin shook his head, as if he was in denial, “I have been biding my time for you my love, the days I’ve ached for you, touched myself to you. You can’t seriously tell me you have not yet felt the same?” 
He was staring at you expectantly but you were at a loss for words, because while yes a part of you had mourned him the first few weeks of your stay, but after a month Jungkook had become a bigger part of your thoughts with each day, and Seokjin becoming so obscure that you no longer even thought of him unless it was prompted in conversation. 
“I’m sorry Seokjin,” It was a genuine apology, “But I cut ties for a reason, I’ve only come to Yule to see my parents and nothing more. I do want you to rest easy…I am very happy in Penumbra, and Jungkook does not treat me like a doll he…” You stared at your gloved hands, “Jungkook loves and respects me for who I am, what I am capable of. And his hands touch me as if I am his, because I am. There is no other man I want to belong to.”
Seokjin slowly shook his head and it made you wince a little. He was taking this harder than you had assumed he would, perhaps because you had assumed your relational ties had been officially cut. 
You assumed there might have been a forlorn sort of pining from him, mourning what could have been, but to have this delusion that you both were still romantic lovers was an entirely different subject. 
“You don’t mean it Y/n,” He took a step closer to you, hand grabbing your waist making you jolt, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but you’ve been brainwashed. Turned blind to their hedonistic ways. You are not the Dryad Princess I know.”
“If they are heathens,” You shoved his hand away from you, “Then I’m afraid I was never going to be good enough for you, for if they are heathens then I cannot imagine what I must be in comparison. I am far more than a Dryad Princess, you say you no longer know me, but it only shows me just how little you actually knew me. I value the time we had together Seokjin, but I love Jungkook. He is my husband and I am proud to be his wife and it will remain this way. Goodnight.” 
You promptly closed the door behind you as Wheein straightened up from her fretting state, you gave her a tense but attempted comforting smile, “Come let us go Wheein.” You ushered softly as she nodded. 
After a long quiet trip through the halls she finally asked, “It’s not my business but I can’t help but ask m’lady…what was that about?”
You shook your head, “Some things must die slower than others I suppose.” You stopped at your door just where Taehyun walked out from exasperatedly. 
“His Majesty is still awake, just a forewarning.” Was all Taehyun said and that was all you needed to know.
“You both are dismissed, I doubt we’ll need any help tonight. And do take the early morning to yourselves, Jungkook will definitely need to rest until mid morning.” You offered a weak smile as they both nodded, perhaps knowing but saving you the embarrassment.
After taking their leave you stepped into your room, lit only by firelight as you quietly shut the door, “So my pretty wife finally shows her presence.” Jungkook was leaning against the bed frame, slumped once more, terribly drunk. 
You offered a gentle smile, the tension that had been in your body slowly melting due to his warm presence you had become so familiar with, “So I am here; I did not mean to make you wait so long.” You were in no rush to the bed as you slowly walked over to your vanity, pulling the gloves from your hands and taking the shoes off your feet.
Setting your crown on top of the empty pillow and taking off your jewelry as you felt his eyes burning into your back before you finally approached him.
“What held you up?” Jungkook’s eyes lazily dragged over your body, sitting on the side of the bed as his feet planted on the ground, hands reaching out for your waist, “You were supposed to help bring me back.” 
Your smile became just a little shy as your hands settled on top of his, the warm comfort it brought such a stark contrast to what Seokjin had attempted to replicate, “I got caught up, but I’m here now. Help me?” 
You turned around as Jungkook stood up, a little wobbly and maybe not the best with his fingers at the moment but he managed to get your dress undone as it fell to the ground, you still had your slip on underneath, it wasn’t meant for sleeping but it was comfortable enough that it would do. 
You plucked the dress from the ground before tossing it, the fabric catching on the chair at your vanity before you turned around to face him once more.
You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at the dilation in his eyes, his tongue swiping over his lip feverishly, “Was it him?” 
Your brows lifted a little in somewhat surprise and that gave him everything he needed to know, his jaw clenching a little as his hands tightened down to your hips, “Saw the way he was looking at you, as if you belong to him.”
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered, “But I am yours. You shouldn’t worry about him.” Tomorrow, you would tell him what had happened, but tonight, you wanted to rest with your husband and let him sleep off his liquor. 
Jungkook’s nose buried into the crook of your neck before his lips began to press into your skin, and you were quickly beginning to realize this was a telltale sign, his hands roaming your sides before curling around the material of your slip. 
“Lay down,” You whispered, “You’re drunk.” 
“I’m sober enough,” Jungkook replied with a moan into your skin, “Indulge me, light of my life, you say you’re mine, but I need you to show me. Need you wrapped around my cock.” 
His moans against your skin was tantalizingly difficult to say no when he laid back against the bed, pulling his pants down to reveal his fat cock bobbing to his abdominal as he wrapped his hand around it tight, eyes staring at you with a lazy heat as he slowly began to stroke his shaft. 
You couldn’t stop the pout on your lips as your arousal immediately pressed into your panties, “You’re drunk Jungkook…” 
“Mmm, I can be drunk and have my cock rode.” He replied, his hips stuttering a little as they lifted into his fist, his cock squeezing through as he moaned, “Do you not see how desperate I am for you? Don’t deny me now.”
Precum was beading against his slit as you slowly pushed your slip up, letting your panties drop as he moaned his hand pumping his cock all the way up to his bulbous head before squeezing it all the way back down, “Fuuck, that’s a good girl, show me those pretty tits.” 
Slowly you peeled the slip up your body, one inch at a time as Jungkook’s hand eagerly worked his cock, eyes lidded as he moaned, watching the fabric tease just below your bust, ‘Don’t tease me now.” 
You pulled it up, your tits bouncing as he swore, fist pumping his cock furiously as you pushed it over your head before letting it hit the ground, “Nee’ you Y/n, mmm, need your warm cunt.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how whiney he was at the moment, getting up on the bed you straddling his thighs as he moaned his hand slowing down to lethargically stroke his cock, eyes trailing up and down your exposed body.
Leaning down a little you couldn’t help but curiously wrap your hand around his base, his stroking paused as he released his own grip, “Mmm, stroke it.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a little shy, it was so thick and heavy in your hand, “How do you like it?” You whispered out, trying not to let yourself be intimidated. 
Jungkook reached back down, his hand wrapping over your own, grip suddenly being crushed much more than you would’ve expected, “Hard, like when it hurts.” His thighs tensed as he guided your hand up his shaft, roughly pumping back down to his base as he hissed out. 
You mimicked his movements, letting your hand jerk up his cock as he guided it back down each time forcefully, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way his cock moved with each stroke, his fat head slowly beginning to turn red, as if angry to not have it’s release.
“Mmm stick your tongue out,” He mumbled, “Want to watch your spit drip on it.”
“Jungkook..” You ushered in embarrassment.
He smiled wickedly, “Would you rather suck it instead?”
“If you had chosen to stay sober,” You teased right back, taking a long breath you appeased him though, sticking your tongue out as salvia slowly gathered at the tip of your tongue before a large glob slowly hit the fat head of his cock. 
Jungkook jolted and stiffened beneath you, a deep moan escaping him at such a lewd sight as your hand wrapped around his tip, dragging the fluid down his cock making it more pliable, he could hardly stand it as your hand squeezed harder around him. 
“Fuck yeah, like that, nice and hard.” He moaned in pleasure, eyes lidded and watching your hand with each rough stroke, “Mm little harder- shit…!” He moaned even louder as his eyes closed briefly, your hand squeezing nice and hard around his base as you began forcefully pumping his cock just the way he enjoyed it. 
His thighs kept tensing beneath you and you could feel your arousal drip on his thigh as you slowly shifted slotting your own thighs beneath his thick taunt one as your hips couldn’t resist but to wiggle, your wet puff slit dragging open along the warm skin of his thigh.
“Mm that's it, good girl,” He moaned deep, eyes locked between your little cunt making a mess all over his thigh and your hand, working his cock nice and rough, “Rub your little clit on my thigh.” 
You let out a little whine at your clit sliding against his skin, pleasure frictioning against the open plane as your grip on his cock tightened, hand fisting all the way to the head of his cock as you roughly pumped his head, as if trying to squeeze the cum right out. 
Jungkook’s moans were salacious and wonton, not holding back in the least as his hips suddenly thrust upward into your hand, his thigh rutting into your cunt as you let out a small breathy moan, enjoying the mess your cunt was making. 
You spit once more on his cock making it slide with ease once more, “Mm just like that, fuck Y/n, yeah, mm gonna’ cum.” 
Jungkook’s hips were impatiently thrusting upward as your hand forcefully pumped his cock, his thigh continually rutting up against your clit just the right way as you let out whiny moans, “Cum for me, please, that’s it, cum.” 
Jungkook was pliable at your voice, whining and begging softly as your hand tightened around his cock once more, the sight of you bending slightly, your tits bouncing and your tongue sticking out, only this time his fat head aimed at your mouth. 
It was such a lewd sight, Jungkook cursed loudly, your hand roughly stroking his cock as the pleasure became blinding, the sight too tempting as he grunted out a deep moan, cumming hard as he kept his eyes wide open for the spectacle, spurts of white cream shot from out from his slit, hitting your tongue, “Fuck, oh my god, yeah, suck it, please, fuuck, suck it up.”
You appeased him, your lips tenderly around his head before sucking it harshly as he cried out another deep moan, eyes unable to pry away from the sight, one arm forcing his hips down to keep from rutting into your mouth as your other hand forcefully pumped his cock of every last drop of seed. 
Your lips stayed wrapped around his fat head as you felt more substance dribble out from his weepy sensitive head. 
Your hand pumping every last drop he had to offer as his thighs violently twitched with each stroke of your hair, his moans were loud and obscene as he growled, “Keep going fuck, can take it.”
That deep dominant voice had you pliant, obediently swirling your tongue around his slit, cum slowly leaking back down his cock as you stroked it.
You could tell he was overstimulated just by how violently his body was twitching but just as you kept going his cock slowly started to harden once more, pulling off his head as you swallowed the rest of the substance, a subtle sweetness in it otherwise tasteless. 
Jungkook moaned, his hyper sensitive cock resting back against his abdomen, “Wanna cum in that pretty little cunt now.” 
You couldn’t help but feel somewhat shy, “Are you sure?” 
Jungkook moaned softly as his hands wrapped around your hips as you shifted yourself, “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing satisfies me more than watching my cum drip from this little hole.”
You shuddered as you grabbed his cock, watching the way he sucked a harsh breath in, teasing his weeping cum covered head against your slit before slowly sinking down on it.
The stinging sensation was absent, only the feeling of his fat cock sliding inside you with ease as you both moaned, “…Even if I become with child..?” You whispered out.
Jungkook’s hands suddenly gripped your hips even tighter, eyes lifting with a wicked smirk on his face, “Why do you think I've emptied inside you every time? Mm is that what you want? My seed nice and deep inside this cunt until your belly becomes swollen? Filled with my child?”
Your cunt harshly wrapped around his cock, you hadn’t expected your body to react so harshly to his words but it was making your clit throb in excitement, the idea of becoming pregnant with Jungkook’s child.
Your hips were immediately bouncing, your cunt greedily sucking his cock deeper inside as your walls clenched around him, soft whines escaping you, “Mm! Please…!”
Jungkook moaned softly, “So I’ve found your weakness,” he cracked a boyish smile, “You want to be my little cumdump? Milking my cock of every drop of cum until you're pregnant with my baby?” 
Your thighs were trembling at the idea, the anticipation of his cum spurting deep inside you, the excitement made pleasure bloom through your body as his shaft began rubbing right where you wanted it, “Please…! I’d be good!” You whimper, “I’d take care of our baby…”
Jungkook moaned hands encouraging your hips, roughly bouncing as his big cock forced his way past your little walls, “Mm know you would, have’ the prettiest belly. Prettiest tits…”
Your whines and moans were like music to Jungkook’s ears as you frantically bounced on his cock in need, his hands soothing your hips as you moaned, “Wan’ baby please…! Koo’…!”
“Mm that’s it my love,” Jungkook moaned as your hips became flush with his, feeling your walls wrap around him as came once more, cum burying deep inside you as the loudest, whiniest moan escaped you, cumming all over his cock as you bounced once more, milking every drop from his cock once more as it buried inside you.
Every muscle in your body was tensed as your breath labored, fists curled against Jungkook’s chest before he grabbed them, tenderly uncurling them as he laced his own bigger ones in yours, “So you want my children hm…?” 
You slowly opened your eyes, tiredness running in your body as you let out a soft, somewhat shy giggle, “Do you want me to have your children?” 
“Is my cock inside?” 
“Stop…!” You whispered out, falling against his chest as he chuckled, arms wrapping around you, his cock softening as it slipped out of your body, the warm sensation of liquid dripping down your thighs as you curled up against him. 
Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut as he hummed, fingers tracing over your sides, “There’s no one else I’d rather have children with.” 
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Jungkook had slept heavily through most of the early morning like you had assumed, he did wake up once, stirring a little at the feeling of your tit cupped in his hand, he only gave it a nice hard squeeze before falling back asleep. 
The light had begun to shine through and you could tell the halls were busy with maids, your personal servants wouldn’t be in for another hour and a half at least though, and somehow, you thoroughly enjoyed being able to lay with your husband like this. 
Far past any reasonable hour to get out of bed. 
“Will you survive my love?” You whispered out a small giggle as your hand reached out, brushing back those long dark bangs from his forehead. 
He groaned, eyes still closed but you knew he was awake, “It feels like I am an anvil and my headache is a smith master. You never told me your mother could hold her liquor better than you.” 
You smiled fondly as you laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms, “They say dryad blood makes alcohol less potent.”
Jungkook’s eyes shot open, a comedic glare on his face, “I see you’ve chosen to keep that information to yourself.” 
“I never thought it was relevant,” You laughed softly, trying not to be loud for the sake of his poor head, “It’s probably why I can drink more than you.”
“And yet you never seem to utilize this ability, you should take after your mother more,” Jungkook groaned as he pulled his arms over his head, eyes squeezed shut once more, “So you’re ready to have my children hm?”
You tried not to choke on your own spit at such a drastic conversation change, “I…” 
Jungkook’s lips slowly pulled into a smile, eyes lidded once more as he stared at you, “What got this on your brain?” 
Your lips parted multiple times, trying your hardest to not let yourself become shy, but it was difficult under his gaze, “...My mother- very drunkenly told me she hoped for grandchildren soon last night after you departed with Yoongi.” 
“Hm yes I do recall her mentioning this to me as well,” Jungkook laughed softly at the expression on your face, “Telling me we would make the prettiest children and that if I wasn’t treating you well she’d personally castrate me- I also see where you get your temper from.” 
You weakly smiled, you wanted to say your mother would never say that sober- but you knew good and well you got her temper in a much higher dose then even she had. 
“She was one of my teachers,” You replied, “...Is it…you don’t think we’re going too fast?” 
Jungkook rolled onto his side, “What do you mean?” 
“Having children?” You raised your brows, “I…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but with how we’ve been…It may be a good possibility.” 
“We’ve been married for almost a year now,” Jungkook mused, “True half of it hasn’t been on good terms but the court…” He sighed, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured but…The Penumbra court has started questioning me on when they can expect an heir.” 
Your lips slowly curled into a frown, “I’m not surprised…” Because regardless of how either one of you felt about this, there was a duty to uphold, “Is that why…?”
“No,” Jungkook immediately cut you off, head resting against the pillow as his hand reached out, tracing your jawline, “Our moments have been organic and I had no hidden agenda behind them, but I won’t deny that I’ve emptied inside you continually because I am intentionally trying to get you pregnant- for the sole reason of wanting to have a child together. Not because the court expects me too...” 
Your stomach felt like butterflies had formed, something like arousal stirring in your body at his choice of words, “You’ve been trying to get me pregnant without telling me?” It wasn’t meant as a reprimand but more of a soft tease. 
Jungkook let out something between a laugh and a scoff, a boyish look on his face, “Figured’ the action spoke more for itself I guess. Nothing screams "I want to get you pregnant” like burying my cum inside you.” 
“Jungkook…!” You whispered out. 
Jungkook laughed harder before wincing, hands grabbing his head as he groaned, “This horrible, ugh Eunoian wine always gives me the worst headaches. Seems you and the wine have something in common.” 
You clacked your tongue, “And here I thought I was going to be nice this morning and give what you had requested the night before.” 
Jungkooks eyes blinked back open, curiosity brimming as he squinted, “What does that mean?”
“You only get to find out if you take back the headache comparison.” 
“It may give me a headache but it’s just as sweet as your cunt- Ow!” 
You had immediately straddled him, taking your pillow with you as you hit him on the head with it as he grabbed it, tossing it aside before his hands snaked around your asscheeks, “There it cancels out, now continue.” 
You could feel the pang of arousal in your cunt as you situated yourself, leaning forward a little as you smiled, “You’ve been rather mean to me this morning, are you sure you’re worthy of it?” 
“You like it when I’m mean,” Jungkook flirted back, fingers digging into your ass, multiple bruises had already stained your skin in the form of his fingers, and it looked right now would be stained on your skin later as well, “I could be even meaner- After all, you let Yoongi take me back and then that rat got his hands on you.” 
You raised your brows with an amused smile, “I assure you no rat had his hands on me for more than a moment.”
You could see it in his eyes, something dark stirring as his jaw clenched a little, a possessive tone in his voice, “A moment is still too long- what did he want?” 
Your hand traced down his chest as you replied, “It seems I was not clear enough when I ended our relationship right before you and I wedded. Seokjin had this idea that we were still lovers.”
“And?”
His fingers dug even harder, nails starting to dig into your skin, not overly painful but just enough for your cunt to feel it, “And I told him I belong to you, and that there was nothing left.” 
Jungkook huffed, fingers relaxing a little, “Couldn’t stand the way he looked at you last night, acting like he had any right to stare at you like that.” 
You laughed softly at his broody look, “Well trust me, Seokjin isn’t getting to experience what you are.” 
Your lips pressed against his clavicle, Jungkook’s lips parted to make a remark but they paused as you lifted yourself a little, kisses fluttering down his chest as the bed cover was slowly pushed back, his naked body revealed and his cock hard and proud. 
It was difficult to not be aroused when he knew you were naked in his bed, but the sight was even more to behold as your tongue softly pressed against his abdominal, his sucked in a harsh breath of air as the soft wet muscle slid towards his pubic bone. 
You planted another kiss against his pubic bone before pressing your tongue back against his warm skin, sliding it down to meet the base of his cock, his hips physically thrusting in need as you let out a shy laugh. 
Jungkook had done nothing but give you pleasure from the moment he declared his love, you wanted to show him the same, how much you wanted him, needed him, how he would never need to worry about another man. 
You only wanted to be his, it was difficult to not let yourself become shy though- yes you had a little experience with this, but it was different, back then you did it as a means to keep things from going further. 
You wanted to do this now, but your husband was not what you considered beginner friendly, it felt like a weapon was staring at you.
Jungkook couldn’t resist the soft moan at the sight of you looking up at him, those pretty doe-like eyes all flustered just inches away from his cock, so confident one moment and shy the next.
Jungkook let out an amused scoff, his hand tenderly pressed against your head as he stroked it, “You’ve sucked cock before, go on.” 
It was a lighthearted tease that made your lips quiver into a pout, “Jungkook...I…I want you to show me what you like…” You mumbled, unable to look at him whilst saying it. 
Jungkook hummed as he reached out, grabbing your head more firmly as he forced you a little closer to his fat cock, “Open your mouth,” It was soft command you couldn’t deny as you let out a breathy moan as you parted you lips, “Mm yeah, now stick out your tongue.” 
“Jungkook…” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment but you felt a sharp tug on your hair in reprimand. 
“You want to please me, yeah? Then be a good girl and show me your tongue.” Jungkook growled lightly as your lips trembled before you did as you were told. 
You stuck your tongue out a little as Jungkook grasped your hair once more rewarding, “Good girl,” He stroked your head, “Now open your mouth a little wider and let your spit drip on the head.” 
Your entire face felt like it was on fire, grabbing the base of his cock as you leaned over it, sticking your tongue out a little further as Jungkook spoke, “Look at me.” You meekly glanced up at him as a wad of spit dripped off your tongue, pooling down onto his fat bulbous head as he moaned softly, eyes lidded at the sight. 
“Fuck yeah, my pretty wife, now take the tip in your mouth, just the tip,” Jungkook ushered softly, watching in blind pleasure as you meekly leaned down, parting your lips a little further, you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. 
It wasn’t that you were staring at his cock, it was more like…it was staring at you. His tip was incredibly fat and bulbous, you knew this, but now being at eye level, mouth to cock level, it made you realize just how big he was.
“Having second thoughts?” Jungkook teased, “Your little rat wasn’t as well equipped?” 
Your eyes slowly looked up at him with a glare as he snickered, an affectionate look in his eyes, “Just the tip to start my goddess.”
Your lips parted around his tip before fully pushing it further into your mouth, your jaw immediately aching for a brief moment before you forced yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, sucking his tip gently as you waited for Jungkook’s next instruction. 
Jungkook could feel the sweat breaking on the back of his neck as he moaned softly, “Fuck,” Something about watching you struggle just to take his tip had his hormones completely fucked up, “Drag your tongue over the slit.” He gritted his teeth, watching you pull off his cock before you looked up at him, dragging your tongue over his head as his lips twitched, hot arousal beginning to fill him more and more, “Now suck it further.” 
Your lips pressed against his tip before you parted your lips once more, trying to relax your jaw as you took him back into your mouth, this time attempting to take him further. Keyword; attempt. It was admittedly a tight fit, not as impossible as you first assumed it would be, but not as roomy as it had once been with Seokjin. 
You let out a muffled whine causing Jungkook to moan as he gripped your hair a little tighter before he pushed you a little further down onto his cock, a noise sounded from you but it suspiciously sounded like a moan and you hadn’t pulled off him yet. 
Jungkook testingly yanked your hair a little, another whine thrumming on his cock as he began to force your head to bob along his cock, he moaned softly at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock, naked and tits bouncing, drool beginning to dribble down his shaft and to his balls. 
“Good girl sweetheart.” Jungkook moaned a soft praise as he began to push you down further onto his cock, now nearly half his cock stuffed into your mouth before you suddenly gagged, his fat head hitting the back of your throat. You hadn’t pulled completely off his cock, just enough to regain yourself before you grabbed his thighs, taking his cock back where it was before. 
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair as he puffed a breath, “What a good little girl, taking my cock this obediently. Mmm you don’t have to take it down your throat if you’re not ready, I’m sure you haven’t- fuck!” He hissed through his teeth at the sudden feel of his fat head beginning to forcefully squeeze down that tight little throat of yours. 
Your eyes were immediately blurring with tears and your jaw had a gripping ache in it and your throat was burning but you weren’t about to quit now as you took his cock further down your throat. 
Jungkook was moaning louder this time running a hand through his hair and trying to not give into the animalistic urge to fuck your throat raw, instead his hand won the battle instead, yanking your hair roughly, causing a choked gurgled whine to escape you, it had his cock throbbing even harder. 
You whimpered at your slow pace suddenly upheaved for a much rougher sloppier one as Jungkook forced your throat to take his cock exactly the way he wanted it, you were gagging now, tears dripping down your face as you moaned on his cock. 
Swears begin to leave his lips left and right before he came you were suddenly pulled off his cock, a breath of air escaping you as you gasped out, your throat painfully stinging as you looked up at him in teary eyed confusion. 
“Sit on my face.” It was ragged, grunted command
You coughed, rubbing your throat tenderly, “Pardon?” 
“Want to suck on your clit while you finish me.”
You couldn’t even ask how that would work before Jungkook suddenly grabbed you, roughly manhandled you as you whined out, clit throbbing as he turned you around, “Jungkook…!” 
“Going to suckle this pretty clit while you suck my cock,” He pulled your thighs closer as you dropped, hands catching the bed as you whined, now within distance of his cock, head weeping precum as it faced you. 
Jungkook easily moved your thighs to either side of his face as you let out a shaky breath, you didn’t think such a lewd position could exist and yet Jungkook was surprising you with new things with each passing day.
You let out a sharp moan at his tongue suddenly pressing against your hole, tasting your arousal before sliding up your puffy slit, an even louder moan escaping you as his lips wrapped around your clit for a brief moment.
“Use your hand and your mouth,” Jungkook growled, the carnal need to cum all over your face and his patience was running thin, hand suddenly smacking your ass in prompt as you let out a loud noise.
“Mm fuck yeah, squeeze it hard,” Jungkook moaned at your hand squeezing his thick base nice and hard, lips wrapping around his tip as he began to suckle your clit once more, a lewd mixture of moans filled the air. 
Jungkook’s hands rubbed down your thighs as before he harshly smacked your right ass cheek, hips jolting as he heard a gurgled whine, your hand forcefully pumping his base with a tight squeeze as you messily bobbed your head down on his cock. 
It was difficult to focus when his tongue was swirling around your sensitive little bud, every little flick sending shocks of pleasure in your body as you whined around his cock, every little sensation of pleasure making you take him further in your mouth as you began to rock your hips against his tongue.
Jungkook allowed his tongue to still, letting your hips guide his tongue to slide through your little slit back to your clit as you moaned, your hand stroking him roughly became shorter once more as your mouth took more of him
Your voice vibrated along his shaft as you sucked against him harder, hand stroking past his base as you tenderly massaged his balls, making a grunt escape him, lips wrapping around your clit once more as you whined, Jungkook refuses to let up.
His hand suddenly smacking your left ass cheek this time, the delicious sting of pain making you moan as spit slowly trailed down his shaft, your hand becoming lubricated as it squeezed harshly against his base, pumping him roughly as if trying to milk his cock for every drop of seed.
Jungkook smacked your ass harder, the stinging pain persisting as his tongue messily swirled your clit before the palm of his hand found your ass once more and his hips lifted, his cock sliding in your mouth with a gurgle, just the feeling made him moan and before he could stop he couldn’t help himself.
Jungkook’s hips continued to thrust as he felt your mouth obediently still for him, letting him fuck your mouth, cock sliding along your warm tongue as his palm smacked your poor right asscheek, once, then twice, he could feel your gurgled moans on his cock as he continued to fuck it in your mouth before he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your ass making you squirm.
Jungkook tenderly stroked the spot as he moaned along your clit, hips lethargically thrusting as your grip on his base suddenly squeezed tighter making him grunt once more, he had surely found heaven. Even with a pounding headache still raging your sweet cunt took the edge off it.
He moaned softly feeling pleasure throbbing in waves as his cock slid along your tongue, your hand pumping his base before massaging his balls once more, he didn’t even bother to warn you, too lost in his own pleasure buried in your cunt, lapping up your clit as his eyes closed, revealing in his orgasm as he came in your mouth. 
You let out an obscene moan as you took him further, sucking his cock harsh as his own moan mixed in the air, hands stroking your ass as you sucked every drop of cum from his cock until he was too sensitive as you pulled off him.
Jungkook however was still very much enjoying your cunt, lips lazily wrapping around your clit making you squeal once finally resting against his pubic bone as your clit throbbed, his tongue abusing your little bud as he moaned, lapping and suckling it as pleasure rapidly built in your body, far more than you were used to at once.
Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling of you jolting, the pleasure almost too intense as you struggled, his stubborn grip not letting you go as his tongue flattened your bud moaning as you whined out, “Mmm! Koo…! Ah…!” Your body stiffened at the way his tongue slid quickly along your sensitive clit, flicking at its sensitive spot before an even higher pitched cry left you.
Your thighs almost spreading more as your hips sudden rutted into his tongue, Jungkook moaned hands grabbing your hips in encouragement as you rutted into him further, clit throbbing in so much pleasure before you came, and it felt so good, having his warm, soft tongue continue over your clit and keep going.
Everything was becoming sensitive, even painful, but you couldn’t ask him to stop when it felt so good, Jungkook’s hands were all over your ass, petting it and squeezing the flesh in his hands as his tongue tenderly pressed into your clit, gathering the overstimulated bud in his mouth.
Your thighs were beginning to tremble as breathy whimpers escaped your lips, unable to keep yourself propped anymore as you laid against his body, letting him support you as he tongue swirled the bud that was quickly building pleasure once more, your moans were unfiltered, unholy and loud, “Koo…! Mmm’ Koo…mmm like that…”
Jungkook suckled your clit a little harder before flattening his tongue over the bud once more, clit burning in pleasure as you whined sharply, his tongue kept lapping that little sweet spot before your back began to arch, propping yourself on your forearms, hips desperately rutting his face for relief.
Feeling his tongue messily push through your slit back to your clit each time was like madness as pleasure bloomed in waves, before it finally snapped, cumming all over his tongue as you whined.
Hips unable to stop rutting as his tongue stilled for you, letting you go as long as you wanted, giving you as much pleasure as you wanted, riding your orgasm out until you felt the next one already building.
“Mmm! Koo…yeah…oh…!” you whimpered softly, eyes shut as you felt his tongue pushing and flattening onto your clit with each rut of your hips.
Every little touch had you jolting a little, thighs burning but your body unable to stop at that delicious sting of hypersensitivity, your clit aching in pleasure with each slide of friction with his tongue.
Jungkook kept your hips still as his tongue swirled around your aching bud making you moan, mumbling incomprehensible words, pleasure aching in your body as he suckled the tender bud in his mouth once more.
Jungkook was particularly tender this time, slowly coaxing the orgasm from your body, tongue making no harsh motion or movement, only pressing softly into your sweet spot each time just a little harder. 
Your body trembled as you let out a gurgled whine, pleasuring building as you felt his tongue swirl around your little hole, dragging arousal with his tongue as he lapped your clit, giving it a soft kiss before gathering the little bud into his mouth to suckle.
The gesture made your body fold, cumming from the sensation as you collapsed against him once more, eyes blurred from tears of pleasure at how good it felt, how good he made you feel.
Jungkook pressed one last kiss against your clit before he slowly peeled you off his face, his hands were gentle as he manhandled you, pulling you against his chest with a soft moan.
Kisses flustering along your collarbone as he murmured, “Mmm, my wife, mine,” his fingers squeezed against your skin, “My head is killing me.”
This caused a tired chuckle to escape your lips, curling against him as you tenderly pressed a kiss against his neck in reciprocation, “I know my love, maybe you should not drink as much tonight…?”
“I make no promises,” Jungkook murmured against your skin softly, fingers tracing the sides of your body, “Especially when you take pity on me like this.” he pressed another kiss against the side of your head, “Even moreso when you look so beautiful….” He slowly frowned, piercing eyes trailing your body as his hands feathered along your skin, “What did he want with you last night…?”
In turn you couldn’t help but frown at the memory, shifting in your husbands arms as you laid on your stomach, hand reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, “Seokjin took me to his office to talk privately, it appears he…” You sighed, a worried look beginning to spread across your face.
“What?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.
“While he assumed we were still a couple- there’s something else that worries me more…” You thought back to the previous night as you continued, “He mentioned having a plan…? Involving me coming here on my own and staying.” 
Jungkook frowned, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling in thought, “That could mean many things. Even if you had come here by yourself, staying would cause uneasy tension with Penumbra.”
“And what would that lead to…?” You asked, trying to figure out just what Seokjin had planned.
Jungkook shrugged, “Seems Kimhae was willing to go to war for you.” 
“You would go to war for me?” 
Jungkook’s lips quirked as he gazed at you, his eyes full of admiration as his fingers traced along your jawline, “If you were kept here against your will, if it meant bringing you back home.” 
You couldn’t help but share a shy smile with him, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand tracing along your back, “Still…it worries me, much tension has been detected surrounding Penumbra.” 
“What would you propose we do about this then…?” Jungkook asked. 
You chewed on your lip in thought, “Well, I already ruined any chance of Seokjin potentially giving me any information.” 
Had you played your cards a little smarter you could’ve charmed Seokjin’s little plan right out of him, granted you were sure Jungkook would’ve rather fell on his own sword before witnessing such an event, so perhaps this was for the best anyways.
This made Jungkook snort, “Made a point did you?” 
“Nothing less than a true Jeon would.” You replied, perhaps a little proud.
This made Jungkook smile, clearly enjoying the way you wore his surname, “Nothing less than I’d expect from my wife.” 
“The only way we can know for sure if Kimhae has ill intentions is if we search Seokjin’s office.” You hummed out with a nod of certainty, “If there’s information anywhere on it, it would be there.” 
“…You’re asking that we do something that would potentially land us in hot water with the royal court if we got caught…?” Jungkook hummed.
A mischievous smile tugged on your lips before you whispered out, “I’ll have you know I was very good at sneaking out.” 
“Why am I not surprised?” He looked amused, “And when do you propose we do this? Since his office is definitely not highly guarded.” 
“We’ll have to sneak away during the ball,” you answered easily, “Most of the guards and attention will be on the ballroom since so many royals and high aristocrats will be attending, should make the halls easy to navigate, and everyone will be making merry- even the staff, shouldn’t be too difficult to get to his office unnoticed.” 
Jungkook raised his brows intrigued, “Hm…so you really are a troublemaker.” 
“Are you surprised?” 
“No.” Jungkook let a sly smile tug on his lips, “Our marriage would’ve been terribly boring if you weren’t.” 
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ggukiepie · 20 days
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Said is dead, and so are some other words that we writers tend to overuse. Here's a brief list to aid your brain:
01. "VERY" ☆★⋆⭒˚.⋆
Very angry -> Furious
Very beautiful -> Gorgeous
Very bog -> Massive
Very boring -> Dull
Very poor -> Destitute
Very cheap -> Stingy
Very clean -> Spotless
Very difficult -> Arduous
Very dry -> Arid
Very quick -> Rapid
Very strong -> Forceful
Very ugly -> Hideous
Very calm -> Serene
Very huge -> Colossal
Very small -> Petite
02. "WHISPERED" 🤫
Murmurd
Mumbled
Muttered
Breathed
Sighed
Hissed
Mouthed
Susurrated
Intoned
Purred
Said in an undertone
Hinted
Said low
Said in hushed tones
Gasped
03. "BAD" 😈
Corrupt
Sinful
Depraved
Contaminated
Tainted
Irascible
Atrocious
Sinister
Snide
Deplorable
Detestable
Execrable
Ghastly
Noxious
Substandard
Despicable
Contemptible
Foul, rank, faulty
04. "BEAUTIFUL" 🦋
Dazzling
Splendid
Magnificent
Aesthetic
Delicate
Glorious
Stunning
Heavenly
Resplendent
Radiant
Glowing
Blooming
Sparkling
05. "BEGIN" ▶️
Open
Launch
Initite
Commence
Inaugurate
Originate
06. "BIG" ⚡
Immense
Gigantic
Vast
Gargantuan
Sizable
Grand
Mammoth
Astronomical
Titanic
Mountainous
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🖱️References
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2603712279594924/
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/81627811987512761/
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ggukiepie · 20 days
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Dialogue Responses
"I thought you were dead!"
"Didn't stick."
"I kind of was..."
"Just wishful thinking."
"That was just a phase."
"Didn't work out for me."
"Wow, the miracle of life!"
"I thought the same thing."
"I did, but now I'm here again."
"You were supposed to think that."
"I'm so sorry! I'll explain everything to you."
All the Dialogue Responses can be found here.
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ggukiepie · 24 days
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sleepwalking ● 20 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, mentions of drugs, fluff, some angst, SLOW BURN
words: 17.9k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
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chapter 20 ► so if your wings won't find you heaven, i will bring it down like an ancient bygone
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The next morning arrived very quickly and not even five hours after your nightly rendezvous in the garden, you saw Jungkook again in the corridor of the hotel.
“Your room is right next to mine,” you observed with a certain surprised amusement. “Yet you thought it would be wiser to go out, find some rocks, and toss those at my window?”
Jungkook glanced at the door of his room as if he hadn’t noticed it before.
“Much more private that way,” he said with a shrug—but a mischievous grin betrayed his attempt at nonchalance. “No one suspected a thing.”
“If someone had seen you doing that, they would have probably suspected a lot more,” you said. “Compared to you just knocking on my door like a normal person.”
“I’m a romantic,” he declared, clutching his chest to emphasise his dedication to his actions, which he preferred to regard as whimsical and sweet, rather than unusual and unnecessary. “I prefer my way.”
You looked away and he wondered if he’d taken it too far. But he relaxed when he saw the corners of your lips curve into an already familiar smile as your gaze wandered from the carpeted floors to the fraying edges of the wallpaper near the entrance to the staircase.
His predilection for extravagant gestures and dramatic moves rather than simple, everyday things had been a consistent part of his personality for as long as you’ve known him. And however much you teased him about it, you still found it endearing.
Although to be fair, you found the wildflowers that he’d brought you endearing, too. Pictures that he sent you, captioned ‘us.’ The look in his eyes when he teased you about something. The way he held your hand so absentmindedly sometimes, almost forgetting about it as though your hand was a part of him.
“Should we go, then?” you asked, a little breathless. The old hotel didn’t have an elevator, and you gestured at the staircase. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to climb into the restaurant through the window.”
Jungkook took the teasing in stride, maintaining a dignified grin. “Stairs will work, I’m sure.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
He followed you, beaming as if he were a ten-year-old who had just held hands with a pretty girl for the first time during fifth-grade recess. He didn’t know how to contain everything he was feeling. He might have actually stopped, dropped, and rolled down the stairs like an exhilarated sack of potatoes if he’d known you were feeling the same.
“So,” you said, keeping your eyes on your feet as the two of you climbed down the narrow, creaking staircase. There were small, foggy windows scattered here and there, filtering beams of tired sunlight. “Escape from New York.”
It took Jungkook a few seconds to recognise that this was the film you’d talked about last night. His mind seemed to consider this information secondary—overshadowed, understandably, by his grandmother’s voice after she called him and the lingering memory of the scent of your hair.
“Yeah,” he said, stopping in front of the arch that led from the stairwell into the lobby. “I’m thinking the odds of catching it in cinemas are very slim, right?”
“They are,” you confirmed, stopping, too. “But it’s on Amazon like I suspected. We could watch it tomorrow if you’d like?”
A childlike excitement ignited in his eyes, but a sudden memory dimmed them.
He recalled you telling him that you had plans with Luna and Maggie tonight, and before that—his hands trembled a little at this particular memory—he recalled you saying that you had set an alarm to call your mum.
He was anxious, he realised, on your behalf.
“Tomorrow, uh—” he stammered, lost in the shadows on the staircase behind you as the two of you lingered by the archway. “T-that sounds good.”
You smiled and nodded—that was essentially all you did, but he felt the change. He felt how close you were, he felt your relaxed posture, your easy smile, your calm, confident eyes.
His gaze met yours for no more than a fleeting moment, but he felt the uncertainty in his chest lift, almost inexplicably so. Likely because, despite everything, you were here and nothing else really mattered. You’d be okay.
“You’re going out tonight, right?” he asked and you nodded. He tsk tsk-ed in response, feigning disapproval. “It's a school night. How very irresponsible.”
Your smile grew wider; he noticed it out of the corner of his eye. Something creaked with excitement on the stairs and inside his chest.
“You guys have a day off tomorrow, so I don’t have to babysit,” you bit. “The girls and I had actually been planning this since before we even arrived in Europe.”
“Okay, fair enough,” he said. “How’d you find a bar that’s open long enough on a Wednesday, though?”
“Maggie said she found a cool spot that’s not really a nightclub and not really a bar,” you explained, shrugging. “I’m not sure. We’ll give it a try.”
“Alright. That sounds cool. Let’s do our thing tomorrow,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Is it, uh, a girls’ night, then?”
You began to walk, crossing the threshold but slowing down so he could catch up.
“Well, yeah,” you said. “Because if I invite you, then Taehyung will insist on joining, and Luna will inevitably invite him. And then you and I will end up third-wheeling those two all night, while also comforting Maggie. She’ll have one tequila shot and spend the whole night near tears because she misses Rue.”
Jungkook decided not to admit how pleased he was that in a hypothetical scenario where Luna would bring her boyfriend and Maggie would cry about her girlfriend, he was your equivalent partner. Of course, he would have made sure to keep you company so that you wouldn’t feel like anyone’s third-wheel or shoulder to cry on, but he understood the essence of your point.
“That’s alright. I’ll keep myself busy,” he said, a bit concerned about the colour of his face. He reached up, feeling his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I, uh—I hope you guys have fun. Call me if you get into trouble.”
You raised your eyebrows, recognising his way of turning your words against you.
“As if,” you retorted. “I know how to drink responsibly.”
He could remember times when the two of you were so drunk that the sense of responsibility resembled a dystopian concept rather than something people realistically possessed, but he enjoyed the smile on your face too much to bring it up. Even more than that, however, he enjoyed the fact that your smile did not falter, and you did not pull away to a more respectable distance when you entered the restaurant and reached the buffet table with dozens of other people around.
Things were good. They felt good.
You stayed at the buffet table to talk to Namjoon, and Jungkook went to find an empty table at the restaurant. But even as he walked away from you, he still couldn’t do anything about the tint on his cheeks.
He knew he was grinning like a proper maniac as he poured milk into his cereal. But then he met your eyes, and you were smiling at him from across the room, and your face looked radiant and glowing, and he was so in love with you that he didn’t care about his excitement coming off as threatening.
Just then, Minjun approached him with a concerned expression.
“Hey,” he said, sitting across from him at the empty table. “You look stupid. Did you put too much sugar in your cereal again?”
Jungkook snorted and let the spoon clatter into the bowl. “No. Just feeling good, I guess.”
“Huh.” Minjun looked over his shoulder and caught your gaze. He turned back to his friend with a knowing grin. “And, uh… your constant glances in your manager’s direction have something to do with that, I assume?”
“We’re going to watch a film tomorrow. It’s something my grandma suggested,” Jungkook announced with a grandeur that rivalled a lottery winner flaunting their newfound wealth.
It took Minjun a moment to process the whirlwind of changes in Jungkook’s life overnight. The last time he had seen him in Glasgow, Jungkook was, to put it kindly, a wreck. Now, his grandmother was calling him, and he was making plans to watch films with you.
“I’m—” Minjun stopped. He wanted to ask questions, but he did not know what to do with the expression on his face. “I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes of this TV show, but I’m very excited for you.”
Jungkook nodded eagerly—and then hesitated, his smile fading momentarily.
“It’s good, right?” he asked. “That we’re spending time together again.”
Minjun didn’t consider himself an expert in the field of relationships, even though he had some experience. However, when it came to this particular relationship, he didn’t even consider himself an amateur. You and Jungkook operated so utterly enigmatically that he wouldn’t even know where to begin guessing what the correct answer here was.
“Of course,” he affirmed nonetheless. “So, you’re… what? Friends, then?”
“Mhmm,” Jungkook replied with a mouthful of cereal.
“And, uh,” Minjun tapped his index finger on the dent in the lacquered table, “why is that?”
Jungkook swallowed first. “What do you mean wh—”
He noticed Minjun’s deadpan expression. Friendship was not the destination that his friend had imagined for the two of you.
“Fine,” he said, wiping his palms on his pants. “Well, first of all, it’s better than nothing. And—”
“Wait,” Minjun interrupted. “Why is ‘nothing’ the alternative to friendship?”
Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Because we’re complicated people with complicated problems.”
He almost expected Minjun to laugh at the oversimplified response, but his friend remained serious—he may not have known a lot, but he knew that there was a long story hidden behind these short words.
“Okay,” he said.
“Yeah. And second of all,” Jungkook continued, and Minjun wondered if he realised how much he resembled you in the way he spoke sometimes, “if we’re friends, then we can still work together, even if we don’t actually get back together. It’s just safe for us.”
“Ah.” Minjun nodded, recognising the subtle ways in which Jungkook was making this comfortable for you. “That’s the main thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s—well, I don’t know if that’s the main thing,” Jungkook said. For him, the main thing was you staying with Rated Riot. Everything else was an additional thing. “But it’s a—it’s a thing.”
“Hmm. The two of you are a far cry from friends, though,” Minjun remarked. Naturally, Jungkook was about to object, but his friend raised a hand, stopping him. “But I’m glad you two kids are working it out. That’s all I wanted to say.”
Jungkook released his breath and nodded instead of speaking.
He decided this was enough. He didn’t need anything else—neither a pat on the back nor an empty reassurance—to confirm that things were going well.
You had practically built a castle over the ruins in his chest overnight—things were going well.
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After breakfast, Namjoon needed your help with the scheduling of recording rooms for the upcoming tour dates. The boys usually used the equipment they’d brought with them, but Yoongi had barricaded himself in his room—Jimin knocked on his door for fifteen minutes to drop off a croissant—so Namjoon, Hoseok, and you decided to book a studio to lure him out.
The scheduling took a while, because London and Paris, for no reason whatsoever, emerged as the two centres of musical innovation this month. Every studio in the vicinity of your accommodation had already been booked, so you were locked in your hotel room until late afternoon.
When you finally found several available spots, Luna and Maggie had already banished Taehyung from his and Luna’s suite—they had the largest one here—and you joined the girls in the bathroom to get ready for the night.
However, even though you joked and chatted with them, you couldn’t stop yourself from mentally counting down the minutes until your phone alarm rang. You’d set it for eight, hoping this would be a convenient time for your mum. You knew she wasn’t working today.
And, shortly after the three of you got ready—six minutes to eight—you left the girls to pre-game in Luna’s bathroom, and went back to your own dark room.
You felt very silly just sitting and staring at your screen, waiting. You could have called your mum early; you were ready for it anyway. But your hands were shaking, and you decided to wait.
You had already dressed and prepared for the rest of the night, but now, as you stared at your phone—two more minutes—you wondered if that had been a mistake. What if you cried? What if you didn’t even want to go anywhere anymore?
Two minutes, as it turned out, had a habit of passing slowly when you wanted them to pass, and passing very quickly when you wanted to prolong them. You pressed the line labelled ‘MUM’ on your phone and held your breath.
You were sitting on the floor—not because you wanted to fully embrace the dramatics of the situation or because the bed wasn’t good enough, but because your phone was charging next to the door, and you couldn’t reach the charger from the bed.
You had kept the light off, so the room was completely dark—now that was because you wanted to embrace the dramatics of the situation—and you hugged your knees to your chest, seemingly sinking deeper into the shadows.
Your mum picked up after the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, mum,” you said, and your voice shook despite your best attempts to control it.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said. She sounded a little disoriented and confused. “Did something happen? Is everything okay?”
You moved your phone away from your head and wiped your cheek on the sleeve of your dark denim jacket. You felt nervous and fidgety.
“It’s—no, everything’s fine,” you replied. “Are you busy? H-how’s Kai?”
“I was just reading. And he’s playing with his friends, love,” your mum said softly—she always spoke as if she was in a crowded room, mindful of disturbing others. “Did you want to talk to him?”
“Oh. No—no, it’s okay,” you said, nibbling on your lower lip. “You, uh, changed your mind about grounding him?”
“Well, he’s awfully lonely,” she said almost apologetically. You figured she wouldn’t stay angry with him for long, especially if he complained about his broken leg—which you suspected he did. “He can’t walk much and he’s miserable.”
“Mhmm. Right.” You scratched under your chin. “I’ll, uh—I’ll check on him later.”
“Okay,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “How—well, how are you? Did something happen?”
The repeated question in place of small talk stung a little, but you knew you’d brought it on yourself. It was natural for her to assume something had happened when you called. For a while now, you’d both had a tacit understanding: she’d text you if she wanted to know how you were, and only call if there was an emergency—such as your brother breaking his leg. But if you really needed her, you would be the one to call.
“No. No, I just—I wanted to talk to you,” you said. “I don’t, um—I don’t really know what to do, so I wanted to… talk to you and maybe that will be helpful. I don’t know, I’m—”
“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Concern deepened her gentle voice. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m—no, I’m not hurt,” you said. You thought you knew what you had to talk about. But apparently, you hadn’t realised you’d have to articulate your thoughts to have this conversation. “It’s just… I wanted to ask about you and Dad.”
Your heartbeat echoed in your ears while your mum stayed silent on the other end.
“Oh,” she said after a minute. You heard shuffling in the background. You pictured her sitting up, putting her book on the coffee table in her living room, and pulling off the duvet. You pictured her reaching for the floor lamp next to the armchair and switching it on, wondering, all the while, what had happened. “What brought this on?”
You heard a cheerful cry from outside your room and glanced at the window. The stars behind it were obscured by dark clouds. You wondered how long it would take to recap the entirety of this past month for your mum.
“Jungkook and I were talking,” you started. You heard her hold her breath as you went on. “And I just—h-he made me realise that you and I have never really talked about this much.”
Her voice sounded distant. “Well, what is there to talk about?”
Your exhale turned into a half-choked scoff.
“A lot of things, mum,” you said.
She breathed out, then in, then out again in an uncomfortable attempt to keep her composure.
“Wh-what do you want me to say?” she asked.
“Well…” You tugged at the fabric of your black tights. “What was going through your mind when you decided to get back together with Dad?” You paused, sensing the implication in your question. “I’m—I don’t mean to insult you. I’m just—I want to understand your thought process. There seemed to be, um—so much at stake.”
“There was,” she replied with the precision of a teacher confirming that two times two was indeed four. “I had you and your brother. And I still went for it.”
An oppressive silence engulfed your dark room as your mother’s uncertainty made yours grow.
Often, when a marriage started to fall apart, the advice from well-meaning relatives—who, of course, knew more about the relationship than the people in it—revolved around the children. To you, the notion of “staying together for the kids” felt about as profound as a bumblebee repeatedly hitting the glass of a window. And the relationship that your parents had was so bad, so beyond any fixing, that no one even suggested they stayed together in the first place, not even for the children—actually, especially not for the children.
But because your mother had never received this advice—this cursed “do it for the kids”—she did not know how to explain herself to you right now.
“W-were you scared?” you forced yourself to ask.
“Every time,” your mum admitted. You felt a new, powerful surge of despair for this every time and all the years of repeated mistakes that it signified. “But I was still hopeful.”
“But you knew he didn’t change,” you said. “You knew he wouldn’t be a father, wouldn’t be your husband.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t think that’s something you know in the moment.”
You couldn’t tell whether she had convinced herself of this later—as a defence against all the relatives who shook their heads at her—or if this was something she believed from the very beginning.
“Mum, that’s—I don’t think I can ever understand that,” you said, your words pouring out in an uncontrollable torrent of agitation. “Not after what I saw you go through. It—I admire the love that you have. But I just—I can’t help but think it had always been obvious that you and Dad would never work.”
She was silent for another minute, and you were worried that you had really upset her. Then, finally, she spoke again—her voice gentle, warm. “You told me that much.”
“I’m—I did?”
“You were very smart, growing up,” she said. “Well, you still are.”
You felt an unwelcome lump in your throat and a tightness behind your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I probably hurt you.”
“You didn’t, sweetheart,” she said, because she always did. “I know it seems—well, difficult to understand. But I really wanted this to work. I wanted to give it a chance. But at a certain point, you finally realise that this is it. It’s enough. That’s when trying becomes pointless—when you can see that it won’t work. But you can’t reach that point if you don’t even try.”
But how many times, you wanted to ask, to yell, how many times did you have to try to reach that point?
“To be honest with you, my thought process was very… well, foolish, perhaps,” she continued. “Looking back, I realise that my judgement was clouded by many of the good moments we shared—because, believe it or not, it wasn’t always bad for us. We were together for… well, for many years. We had some good times.”
Once again, you felt a little disheartened that she avoided mentioning a specific date. You wondered what number of years she would have given—you knew your parents had already been on and off even before they got married.
“So, he wasn’t always like this?” you questioned. “Cold, detached, dismissive? Not worthy of you?”
Your mum seemed a little taken aback by the exhibition of adjectives—none of which came close to the words you wanted to use to describe the man who was theoretically supposed to be your father, and the words your mother had actually used to describe him herself—but she only allowed herself half of a surprised gasp before she pulled herself together.
“He was a lot more than that,” she said. “Both, in a good way and a bad way. And I wanted to try. Our circumstances had changed, we were in different stages of our lives. We’ve both grown. Clouded judgment or not, I thought that, even if he couldn’t be the person I fell in love with, maybe he could still be the person I could love right now.”
“You thought he’d changed,” you concluded. “Grown for you.”
“I did think that,” she agreed. “I believe that people can change—and they do, really. People can absolutely transform. But your father, he—well, he hadn’t. But I wouldn’t have known that for sure if I hadn’t tried.”
You shook your head. “But had he ever—you—never mind. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my—”
“No, you’re—you have every right to ask me these things,” she cut in. “I understand your—frustration. But I really wanted this, and I-I felt like I owed it to myself to try everything. Just so I would know that I’ve tried everything. And even though it didn’t work out, I learned more—so much more—about love, about people, and about myself. So, I don’t regret trying.”
You needed a minute to grasp that she really did not sound regretful. But you could not understand that.
You and your brother ended up in the crossfire of it all, and she was the one who put you there, repeatedly. And then she waited for over a decade for you to find the courage to ask her about this because she never volunteered this information herself.
Was there really nothing to regret about this?
“I’m... I’m still learning,” your mum continued after a while. “Because there are some things that we can learn only by experiencing them, and I—well, I want those experiences. I don’t want to look back on my life and wonder what it would have been like if I had tried something that I really wanted, but it really scared me. ‘What if I didn’t run from it, even though running away was safer?’ That was what I thought.”
She had to be brave, you thought, to try and to stop trying. And you knew that she really was. But more than that, she had to stay true to herself as an individual. She had to follow her dreams, her hopes, her wishes. And she did.
Yet, for some reason, you couldn’t find your words.
“I think that,” she said after not hearing your response, “aside from all the other things we do for love, we sometimes need to go through these unsuccessful experiences to truly understand our boundaries and get to know ourselves. And to find peace, really, knowing that we’ve done all that our hearts wanted. At least, that’s how it worked for me. Your dad might have had other motives. I don’t think I will ever truly understand them, but his motives are his own. These are mine. So—well, that was my thought process. I think that’s all I can say.”
“Hmm,” you finally said—just to signal that you've heard her, and now you needed a minute.
She’d told you everything, then.
She was listening to her heart when she got back together with your dad. And listening to one’s heart was not an easy thing to do, you’ve come to know that very well.
But now you wondered if you were okay with her explanation. If you were okay knowing that she did that because she wanted to. If you were okay with her erasing everyone else from the equation and just focusing on herself.
Lately, you’ve come to believe that people were made up of various roles, some of which were put on their gravestones after their death: daughter, sister, wife, mother. They could be more than that, so much more. But they couldn’t suddenly be less.
You thought your mother might have actually been trying to be less.
She was trying, it seemed, to be on her own, void of any roles that framed her into a certain behavioural pattern—the sister, the friend, the wife, the mother—because this way, she could get back together with your dad because she owed it to herself. Because she wanted to try.
It was important to listen to yourself, of course. But her relationship with your dad affected her in every role she had, every role she tried to escape from. It hurt her. And because it hurt her, it hurt those around her, too: her children, her brother, her friends.
And still, she did it again. And again. And again.
No, you didn’t think it was possible to escape all of your roles like that. You didn’t think a person could wake up and, without any repercussions whatsoever, suddenly decide to be an individual, but not a parent. A partner, but not a sibling.
A manager, but not an ex-girlfriend.
A shuddered breath passed your lips, and you closed your eyes. You heard your mum’s even breaths on the other end.
If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you might have admitted to your mum that you understood certain parts of her explanation, but not others.
You understood why she did all the things you’d criticised for years. She did them because she knew that was what she wanted. That was what she believed and hoped for. And precisely because she did what she wanted, she did not regret trying again even though it didn’t work out. She’d listened to her heart, and her heart was now at peace.
And, yet—you were there. Despite her pride about having followed her heart, you were there.
You were the one helping her pick up the pieces for years after your dad left. You were there when she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get up from the floor, couldn’t stop herself from crying.
You were happy that she was at peace now, happy that she did not regret it. But you did. You regretted it for her. You didn’t think you’d ever feel her peace.
That was what you didn’t understand: how she’d erased those nights, those years when you thought you went through everything she went through right with her. You didn’t understand how she didn’t regret any of it.
You could have asked her about it, but she would have probably repeated all that she’d already said. And maybe you’d never understand her because you weren’t her—you were her daughter, and you could never escape this role. You loved her and you could not feel peace for the suffering she had to endure. The suffering you tried to take away, but couldn’t.
Perhaps you were being unfair to her. But you could only judge her experiences through the lens of your own.
She made a mistake—the same one, several times. She tried to explain it to you, even tried to justify it, but ultimately, that was the way you understood it, and you could not make yourself understand it differently.
However—and it took you great effort to admit this to yourself—just because trying again was a mistake in your mother’s case, that did not necessarily mean it would be a mistake in yours, too. There was a bright side to your lack of understanding.
It certainly seemed that your mum would continue to believe her truth, and you would continue to believe yours, but now you identified a core difference between yourself and her: you could never listen to just your own heart; you had to take another heart into account.
Your heart was frightened. It did not know what to do. But you weren’t just his manager. You loved him. And you knew he loved you. You could not let your fear win.
You weren’t your mum, and you weren’t your dad. And Jungkook wasn’t one or the other, either.
You wondered if this precise moment—this clear distinction—would finally allow you to separate your experiences from your parents’.
“Sweetheart,” your mum said quietly. Your phone felt hot due to the duration of your conversation. “Did something happen that made you want to talk to me about this now? Did you and Jungkook fight?”
You were biting into the inside of your lip with so much force that you could almost taste blood.
“We did. At first,” you said. It was futile to evade her questions now, but your throat still felt scratchy. “But it’s different this time. We’re—I don’t know what we are. We’re trying. Well, he’s trying. And I—I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Well, scared that someone will get hurt if we get back together.” You tightened your arm around your calves and rested your chin on your knees. Your room had darkened even more; it was very late. “Scared that I won’t be able to keep going if we don’t. I-I don’t know how to explain it. I’m just scared of what will happen.”
“Darling, sometimes, taking the risk is the only way to know what will happen,” she said. “You have to be brave. There are always two kinds of ‘what ifs.’ One good, one bad.”
You ran your fingers through the braids in your ponytail, nearly ruining Maggie’s work.
“You always hoped for the good one,” you said.
“I did.”
“Hmm.”
“I hope for that even now,” she replied. You closed your eyes and exhaled. “I know for certain that your dad and I cannot be together, but I know that precisely because I tried. It’s terrifying, though. I know it is. But I think that a lot of times, fear is an inherent part of love. You’re afraid of losing this person, afraid of hurting them. But you choose them anyway.”
Your hands were so cold that you could feel them over your tights when you ran your nervous fingers across your calves. You watched the hotel floorboards, attempting to make sense of your thoughts.
“Well, it—that doesn’t always make sense,” you said carefully. “Choosing to be together isn’t always, uh, the right decision.”
“Sweetheart,” she said, and you could tell from her tone that she did not understand your allusion to her own relationship. “How can it be the wrong decision for you? I know you’re really calling me because you’re scared you’re hurting him.” You inhaled so sharply here that she had to pause for a moment and continue in a gentler tone. “But you won’t hurt him by being with him. You would hurt him if you pushed him away.”
Your eyes blurred with a sudden moisture that you tried to blink away. You were determined not to succumb to your emotions—not for your parents’ failed relationship, not for the relentless gap between you and your mother that one conversation could not fix, and not for the haunting what-ifs that loomed in the back of your mind.
“I don’t know what exactly happened between you two,” your mum continued. “But I do know this: Jungkook thought you didn’t love him anymore when you broke up. He was, well—broken. But he wants to try again. That was—well, it was not the case for your dad and me. So, I think your odds are very good.”
You straightened, pressing your shoulder blades against the wall.
It was only in Amsterdam that Jungkook told you he had thought you broke up with him because you didn’t love him anymore. Before that, you’d assumed he was the one who no longer cared.
Was this what he talked to your mum about? Or was she just guessing?
“Where—how do you—h-how do you know what he thought after we broke up?” you stammered.
Another silence enveloped the conversation, and you wondered what your mum needed it for.
“That’s…” she started slowly, “another thing that sets you two apart from us.”
A secret. That’s why your mum needed the silence—to figure out how to talk to you about this.
“What is it?” you asked.
It took her another moment—six and a half heartbeats to be precise—to start speaking again.
“Your dad never wrote me anything,” she said. “Not a letter, let alone a poem. Honestly, he could barely write my name on a birthday card.”
You didn’t immediately understand what she was insinuating because you were too busy screaming inside about the irony of your mum being the one who pointed out all the times when your dad did not care about her. And yet she chose him again, and again, and—
You gripped your legs tighter to focus. “How do you know that Jungkook—”
“He sent them to me.”
“What?” You let go of your legs. “What do you—what did he send you?”
“The songs,” she explained patiently. You were too overwhelmed to notice the caution in her words; she could sense your hyperventilation over the phone. “Well, the verses of the songs that he wrote about you.”
You were quiet for a minute. Then another minute. Your mum had to gently coax, “love?” to remind you that you were on a call.
Jungkook said he had talked to your mum because he needed her help. You simply could not fathom the possibility that she was helping him with his song lyrics.
“Why…” You swallowed, trying to come up with a question that wouldn’t make your stomach clench harder. “Why did he send you that?”
“Because I told him he could if he wanted to,” she said. You appreciated her even tone. It helped to slow down the rapid beating of your heart.
“But,” you said, “we were broken up.”
“That’s one side of the story,” she replied. “The other side is that you were still in love. So, while you locked yourself in your room and forbid his name from being spoken around you, he was coping in a different way.”
The air in the room felt dense. You couldn’t tell if you were getting too much oxygen or not enough. Your head was spinning, attacked by the voices in your head, all of them shouting at you in languages you did not understand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked—the question was heavy, and your voice lowered significantly.
“I asked him if I should tell you,” she explained. “He said only if you asked about him.”
Your heart was in your throat. Your arms were numb. You felt like you were running late for something very important, and you were not going to make it in time.
“I never did,” you whispered.
“No,” she said softly. “You never did. And I didn’t think it was my place to tell.”
“Well, how—what did he say?” you pressed. “Why did he send you th-the songs?”
“He texted me, asking for permission at first,” she recounted. “He wanted to know if—if the lyrics were okay, if they weren’t too obvious, if I would mind and if I thought you would mind.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him you might drop everything and move to the Arctic if you found out the songs were about you,” she said. You could hear the smile in her voice. “He said that’s why he asked me instead.”
“Hmm. But that only happened once o-or... you know, twice?” you asked. “Haunting” and “Cursed”—those were the two songs he’d told you he wrote with you in mind. “Right?”
You were almost desperate for her to agree with you. To say that this was it, just these two songs. It was a lot, but you already knew about them. You’d manage to carry on.
Your mum sensed the hope in your voice. Almost unwillingly, she admitted, “at first.”
You were glad, suddenly, that you were sitting on the floor as the hotel room seemed to tremble around you. The realisation that Jungkook had been in touch with your mum, that he was writing about you this whole time—that your mum knew he was writing about you—was a little too strong.
Yoongi wasn’t far off, as it turned out. He thought it was you who looked through Jungkook’s lyrics for him. Apparently, it was your mum.
“The first time he reached out was right when Rated Riot first started making music,” your mum resumed, her words sharp against the lingering silence. “He apologised, and I didn’t think he would contact me again.”
“But he did,” you concluded, almost voiceless as your words stuck in the dryness of your throat.
“He did,” she confirmed. “I think, a lot of times, he was doing it to find out if you were seeing anyone else.”
The voices in your head were quick to latch onto this phrase – a lot of times! a lot of times! a lot of times! – and they yelled it at you from every crevice of your mind.
“Every time he wrote something new about you—a song, or a verse, or even a line that he ended up never including in any of their songs—he’d contact me and ask if it was okay,” your mum said. “But I don’t think he was only asking about the lyrics. He was also asking if I was okay with him still being in love with you. He was, it felt like, trying to see if I’d tell him to stop. To meet someone new.”
You had a pained frown on your face as you brought a hand over your forehead, wondering if what you were feeling was nausea or vertigo.
“Why didn’t you say that to him?” you asked. “To stop? It’s been four years.”
“For the same reason I didn’t say it to you.”
Your lips parted, but you could not find your voice. “W-wh—what—”
“Four years is just a raw number,” your mum said. “It does not account for the days you spent intentionally avoiding each other, remembering everything, and eventually working together. It is neither big nor small, and it is completely irrelevant compared to what you feel inside.”
It seemed to you, for an unthinkable second, that your mum had been waiting for your call about Jungkook—like she knew it would come. Jungkook had called her, and you would, too. It was inevitable.
But how much time has passed between his first call to your mum, and yours, right now? You wanted to claw at your chest until you ripped out every painful needle in your heart for all the years he waited for you, and for all the years you waited for yourself, too.
“And I’ve noticed that he also tried very hard to act like he no longer had any feelings for you when he wrote many of these songs,” your mum added with a conviction that only fuelled the intense turmoil inside of you. “He always claimed that he just needed something for his lyrics. He was just drawing inspiration from personal experience. But I don’t believe that was the entire truth. The lyrics he sent me… they’re a broken heart on paper. They’re a love confession.
“Mum—”
“He tried to tell himself that he’d moved on,” she continued, “but I could tell he hadn’t. You don’t write songs like that about someone you no longer care about.”
You were shaking your head even though she couldn’t see you. You knew your mum was a hopeless romantic, you thought her understanding of love differed from yours very much, and you desperately wanted to believe that you had a rational reason to argue with her.
But really, you were just trying to trick your heart into feeling better. Into believing that you didn’t have nearly as much of an impact on him as he continuously showed you that you did.
You couldn’t breathe.
“I haven’t heard from him in a while until just recently,” your mum said, gently breaking the silence. “Ask him about the song he’s working on now, sweetheart.”
Your heart exploded again. “He—he sent you something else?”
“A few nights ago,” she said. “He said he’s done with the lyrics; he has the demo. He wants to record it now. It’s called—hold on, the title was a mouthful.” You heard some shuffling on her end, overshadowed partially by your racing heart. “Ah, here. It’s called “The Puddle of Champagne on the Bathroom Floor.””
The force of her words made your stomach plummet as goosebumps battled the heat for precedence over your skin.
The past month rushed back to you in disordered flashes – Amsterdam. Your hotel room. Hoseok’s party. Boxes of champagne in the bathroom of Hoseok’s room. The motorcycle ride in Tilburg. The bet. The IV drip in Manchester. Jungkook’s irreparable tendency for big gestures. The pebbles he’d thrown at your window. The kiss in the garden outside the hotel.
You weren’t just his manager. You’d never been just his manager.
“I—I have to go, mum,” you managed to say, leaning against the wall in an attempt to stand up.
You didn’t actually have to go; the girls had promised to wait for you. But your whole body itched with an unrelenting restlessness, and you thought your legs would turn themselves inside out if you didn’t set them in motion right this second.
“Yeah?” she asked with traces of obvious concern in her words. “Call me later, sweetheart, okay?”
“I will,” you promised, lightheaded as you stood and bumped your thigh into the nightstand next to the bed. You unplugged your phone, letting the charger dangle, and navigated the room to the bathroom. Your fingers felt numb as you clutched your phone to your ear. “I—thank you. I love you.”
“Be brave, okay?” your mum said, sending another shiver down your spine. “I love you so much.”
You mumbled something—or may have actually opened your mouth to reply, you weren’t sure of anything anymore—as you ended the call and tossed your phone onto the bed from the doorway of the bathroom.
You needed water first—to wash your face, to drink, and to possibly drown your feelings in.
You weren’t sure, after all, if you were ready to go out with Luna and Maggie tonight. You weren’t sure if you were ready to leave your bathroom at all.
And that was how the girls discovered you twenty minutes later—perched on the counter next to the sink in your bathroom, cradling a towel on your lap as your mind vacillated between impressive emptiness and a thick fog of thoughts that refused to dissipate.
“Hey,” Luna whispered as the two girls slipped into the room. Now that they were here, you thought you could remember hearing a faint knock on the door. “What’s wrong?”
The question finally forced the racing thoughts in your head to stop.
“Nothing,” you responded, using the towel to wipe the water on your face, even though most of it had already dripped onto your black tights a long time ago. You missed the look that Luna and Maggie exchanged. “Sorry, were you—”
“Babe, you’re crying,” Maggie pointed out, carefully pulling your ponytail away from your face and over your shoulder.
You instinctively reached up to your eyes.
“I’m not, this is—it’s water.” You raised the towel as evidence. “I was washing—”
Maggie rubbed your arm patiently. “It’s water coming out of your eyes, babe.”
You glanced over at Luna, but she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and a concerned expression on her face.
We’ll be here a while, her stance was saying. But we’ll get to the bottom of it.
You looked down. “Sorry. I’m really okay.”
“I know you think that if you say you’re okay enough times, people will believe you,” Luna said firmly because her heart had dropped to her heels when Maggie threw the door open, and they found you here, completely dissociated, with a dangerous vacancy in your eyes. “But that’s not what happens. People just pretend to believe you, so you’d feel better. We know you’re not okay.”
You have started to realise that over the last few days.
So, taking an uncertain breath, you told them most of what your mum had just told you: about Jungkook’s heartbreak, and about your own. About his conversations with her, and about your self-imposed vow of silence. About his songs, and about your deliberate blindness for the lyricism, which had always been saturated with sentiments from the past seven years.
You chose not to mention the emptiness you felt after your mum had explained her reasoning for getting back together with your dad because you were worried you would not have enough water or towels to conceal your emotions.
After you finished speaking, Maggie, in her typical manner, made a profound summary of it all: “Well, shit.”
Luna nodded in agreement and tilted her head.
“But wait,” she said. “Why—why is this—but why are you crying about this?”
“I’m not,” you replied. You felt the childish defiance in your tone, but it was so intrinsic for you that you just said it and gave your friend an apologetic look.
“Right.” Luna glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind you, reminding herself that you’d sooner drown yourself in the flood of your tears than admit to crying. “Why are you trying so hard to pretend you’re not crying, then?”
You had to battle yourself a little more until you finally exhaled and leaned your back against the mirror.
“I—well—mostly because it’s just been so long. Fucking ages. And I was, you know. All this time, I was playing my little game.” You raised the pitch of your voice to imitate yourself, “oh, I’m such a great manager, I’m so insanely professional that you wouldn’t even think he’s my fucking ex-boyfriend.” You scoffed, shaking your head. Luna observed the way your hands trembled when you lifted them to your neck. “And he was—he was writing fucking songs about—a-and sending them to my mum to ask for her approval. Her permission. Her—just fucking talking to her. While I wasn’t talking to anyone. While I was acting like I lived in a magic fucking kingdom with purple ponies and rainbows, and no ex-boyfriends.”
The girls shared a look and half of a whole conversation—albeit in different languages, because when Luna opened her mouth to offer comforting words, Maggie placed her hand on your arm and shook her head.
“To be fair,” she said, “before I found out he’s your ex, I would have never suspected it.”
You raised your eyes. “You—well, see! That’s because I was—”
“No, wait, that’s—” Luna interjected, then paused to frown at Maggie. “Actually, hold on. How did you find out?”
You tightened your lips and returned your attention to Maggie. Most of the staff seemed to just know about you and Jungkook—like they knew most things—and you had obviously preferred to pretend like your relationship had never happened, so you’d never asked how they learned about it. But now you were curious.
“He told me,” Maggie stated simply, pulling away from you to straighten her dress. She kept her eyes on the ground.
“Jungkook?” Luna clarified.
Maggie nodded and looked up at you, tentative. “Yeah. A-and I’m afraid I might have mentioned it to Seokjin after that. And a few people might have overheard, and it, um—well, I think the news spread. But, in my defence, the band already knew.”
“The—” You blinked. “Well, I was the one who told the band. I thought I had to, or it wouldn’t be fair.”
“Oh.” She pondered that for a moment. “Okay. So—okay.”
“But how did you find out about it?” Luna pressed.
“Right.” Maggie bit her lip. She looked at you as she spoke. “It was a little over a year ago. We were drunk one night after a gig, and you were outside with Namjoon and Seokjin, having a smoke or whatever. And one of the roadies made a joke, something about how you three always disappear together. You know, a suggestive joke.”
You groaned. Most of the road crew was not affiliated with the company, so you hired new people for each tour. You recalled a few awful experiences with them and wondered if this would be another one.
“Yeah,” Maggie agreed with your scrunched-up nose. “That’s how I reacted, too. But the roadies kept going, because, you know, it was a joke, they didn’t realise it was hurting anybody. So, they were saying how they’ve heard that you had dated some producer from the label before. And they wondered if Namjoon could have been the guy, and Jin’s just the third wheel to kind of throw everybody off your scent.”
Your frown deepened. “Oh, my God.”
“Right,” she said again, nodding. “Well, Jungkook suddenly stood up and left. I didn’t even realise he was upset or anything, but Hoseok leaned over and asked if I could go check on him, so I went. I found him in the parking lot and asked him what was up, why was he looking so irritated or whatever. And he said he’s the guy you dated, not Namjoon. He said it with so much pride, too, kind of like it was an achievement or something.”
This was the moment when you looked down, and Maggie turned to look at Luna instead. Luna was positively glowing as she processed the new information and made mental notes.
“I think I mentioned that to him, actually,” Maggie went on, “because he later said, “it’s not an achievement if I’ve lost it.” But I was so drunk that I didn’t realise what he was talking about. I asked, “what’s ‘it’? What did you lose?” and he just stopped speaking and pulled out another cigarette.”
Something already tight seemed to tighten even more in your stomach.
Luna was the one who replied with a shake of her head and an affectionate observation: “The two of you have some productive discussions when you’re drunk.”
“Hmmm.” Maggie pulled on the skin around her nail. Her mind was focused on the events that happened later and she turned back to you, admitting, “I-I’m sorry I might have been the one who started the chain of—well, I shouldn’t have told anyone. I only meant to ask Jin if he knew about it, and it—”
“It’s okay,” you cut her off. “No one’s ever said anything to me about it.”
Maggie bit her lip again, still uneasy. “I’m—honestly, up until a few days ago when this whole mess with the bet started, I didn’t even think about that conversation with Jungkook, because—I mean, both of you seemed so normal around each other. Well, you know. He flirted with you all the time, I now realise, but he’s kind of a little shit in general, so it didn’t feel weird. And it didn’t even occur to me to think that the reason he was upset that night was because he was drunk and angry about not being with you anymore. I thought he was just irritated for no reason.”
Your eyes were fixed on the bathroom carpet—hoping, irrationally, that if you stared at it hard enough, it would absorb the fact that Maggie had witnessed Jungkook like this in the very prime of your insistence that you could remain professional and your past relationship would never be a problem. In the very prime of your hopeless attempt to run away from yourself.
“Yeah,” Luna said to her, understanding. “He does that sometimes. Gets upset randomly.”
“Yeah.” Maggie nodded. “A little moody. Comes with the job, I guess.”
Luna nodded back. “Yeah.”
This exchange finally snapped you out of your daze and you shook your head with a resigned smile. Luna’s face brightened as she leaned her hip against the counter next to you, and Maggie chuckled, pressing her shoulder against the wall on your other side.
“You know,” Luna said, turning to look at you. “I always wondered how he managed to resist for so long. I mean, you’ve been with the band for over two years now, right? And all he did was just tease you and make jokes. Like a middle-schooler, pulling the hair of his crush. But, really. How did he hold back from doing more?”
You tried, “but why—”
“I’m sure he was doing it for her,” Maggie interjected, pointing at you as though you were an inanimate object—something placed on the bathroom counter for decoration and easily picked up to discuss. “Maybe because he didn’t think she would want him back.”
“Well, what changed?” Luna questioned. “Why did he suddenly act on his feelings?”
“Well, Sid came along.”
“Ah.” Luna nodded, remembering suddenly how Jungkook told her that the bet had given him the push he needed. “That’s right.”
Your gaze ricocheted from one girl to the other. Your mind processed their conversation as if it were the plot of a series you had watched rather than something you had lived through.
“Yeah, and look, it may not have been that hard for him to hold back,” Maggie speculated. “Jungkook is the King of Bottled Emotions.”
“That’s true,” Luna agreed. “And he put all his feelings into his songs, which probably helped for the time being.”
“Yeah. That’s probably exactly it. And I think—”
“Okay!” you interjected, smacking your palms against your thighs. You didn’t think you had it in you to handle another and. “Hi? I’m here, too.”
Both girls turned to you with grins that indicated they were well aware of what they were doing.
“How are you feeling?” Luna asked.
“Confused,” you replied, wiping the corners of your eyes with your fingers. They were stained with your wet eyeshadow.
Luna raised a curious eyebrow. “Is that better than what you were feeling before, or—”
“It’s different,” you said, exhaling with a great strain. “I have to talk to him.”
Luna looked startled as she glanced at Maggie. “Uh—r-right now?”
The unexpected question made you lose what little courage you had. “I—I don’t know?”
“I saw him in the lobby earlier,” Maggie admitted slowly, very upset to find herself as the bearer of bad news tonight. “With Minjun. They, um—they left together.”
“Oh.” You looked down. “Well, that—maybe that’s good.”
Neither of your friends thought that was good as they both looked at each other in alarm. For once, they both thought the same thing, and that was a plan of how to track Jungkook down for you. They knew you well enough to fear that if you two did not talk about it right now, you never would.
“Really?” Luna asked uncertainly. “Because we can try to—”
“No, no,” you said. “Maybe I need to calm down first. Somehow.”
The girls both exhaled quietly. Calming down first implied talking to him second.
“Would, um,” Maggie said, “getting wasted help with that?”
You looked at her, a small smile on your lips. “It might.”
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It started raining while the girls helped you fix your make-up, and the three of you stepped into the empty street laughing as the wind played havoc with your umbrella while you waited for the taxi. You felt significantly better.
Once you arrived at the bar, you stopped to shake off your umbrella and briefly split from the group as the girls hurried into the warm, dry building. Standing under the canopy by the entrance, you caught something out of the corner of your eye and turned to look. It was a waft of smoke from someone’s cigarette in the smoking area by the side of the building. You didn’t think much of it.
But when you tapped your umbrella against the pavement one last time, the smoker poked his head, gazing somewhere opposite from you. You looked up to see a familiar jet-black hair, styled in an overly gelled quiff, eerily similar to the hairstyle Sid wore every day.
The person did not turn to look at you, but this was enough for dread to grip your stomach, casting a terrible shadow over your uplifted mood.
You tried to rationalise that there was no logical reason for Sid to be in London. This person just couldn’t be him. Sid had showed up in Manchester, sure, but Jungkook had been certain that this was over. Even Sid couldn’t be pathetic enough to follow him all the way to London.
A group of people obstructed your view of the smoker as they tried to pass you to enter the bar. Apologising, you opened the door and finally walked inside.
The place exuded an unexpected elegance. A bar, with numerous tables scattered about, claimed half the space, while a dancefloor was partially concealed behind a row of private mahogany booths. The music was loud, but not overwhelming, and the area was dimly lit by massive chandeliers suspended above each table in every booth. Their faint light barely illuminated the drink menus strewn across the tables.
There weren’t many people here, and this seemed like a lowkey, comfortable place for the night—provided the person outside wasn’t Sid.
“No fucking way,” a voice cried from your left.
Flinching, you turned and noticed the entrance to the men’s room first, and Jude’s expectant eyes next. A chill coursed through you, rendering your legs numb.
No.
No, no, no, no—
“What are the fucking odds?” he exclaimed, grinning. You realised how odd it was for Jude to talk to you without Sid initiating the conversation, and you dreaded, suddenly, that he might come in, too. “This must be—what’s it called when—something about kissing, I think. Kissling? You know? Destiny?”
You swallowed. “Kismet.”
“That’s the one, yeah!” Jude raised his hands victoriously. He appeared to be on something; he had never looked at you for longer than two seconds when he was sober, let alone moved around so vigorously. “Hey, are you here alone?”
“I’m not,” you replied.
“Do you want to join us?” he asked. You didn’t like the plural pronoun one bit.
This had to be a nightmare, you thought. You half-expected to glance down and find yourself standing naked in the middle of the room—and then you would wake up.
Jude’s grin widened when you didn’t respond.
“You know we don’t bite,” he reassured as if your hesitation was about potential biting rather than the insurmountable headache that Sid and Jude collectively induced just by being in the same room with you.
You managed a weak smile. “I’ll pass. You’re hanging around here, then?”
“We were just leaving,” Jude said—who was this “we,” you wondered irritably—and, most impudently, he leaned closer. “We have some molly to keep us company for the rest of the night. They call it mandy in England, did you know? You mix it with speed, and you just fucking fly. You look like you could use some.”
He chuckled and pulled back. You wondered if your reaction showed on your face; Jude did not acknowledge it.
You did not think you needed club drugs. You thought you needed pepper spray.
“Thanks,” you said. “But I’d prefer it if you just left me alone if that’s not too much trouble.”
He laughed—a disturbing echo of Sid’s cackle—and a shiver of revulsion ran down your spine. While Jude wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around, he was usually tolerable when Sid wasn’t by his side. What had he done to him?
“Alright, well, suit yourself,” Jude responded, unfazed. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
You suppressed the urge to rattle off a list of locations where you would look for them—the sewers, a dumpster, a toxic waste site—and pursed your lips.
“So, you’re staying in London?” you asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied cheerily.
You nodded. “Lovely.”
He turned towards the door with his unwavering smirk, but kept glancing back at you every few seconds, seemingly hesitating. You watched his movements like one might watch the launch of a spacecraft—counting down the seconds until it’s in the air and out of your sight.
“Well, we will see you later,” he said, one hand on the handle. He lingered by the door for a good ten seconds, letting the cold air in and clearly anticipating your response.
You cleared your throat. “Not unless I have a say in that.”
He snorted. “Funny. We’ll be thinking of you.”
You did not speak. He did not move.
“Don’t both—” you started and then stopped abruptly.
Jude raised his eyebrows in the doorway. There was something about the way he looked at you, the way he lingered here while Sid smoked outside.
God, this might have been the same instinct that Minjun had to save Jude from Sid, but you sighed and managed a quiet, “Jude, um—be careful, alright?”
A myriad of colours passed on his face as he tried to comprehend your words.
“Wha—why—what do you mean?” he asked, so wide-eyed and utterly astonished that you felt uncomfortable looking at him.
“I’m just saying,” you said awkwardly. “Sid doesn’t care about what happens to you. Make sure you look after yourself. Drink water if you’re going to be tripping on something.”
He stayed frozen, almost statuesque—not blinking, seemingly not even breathing—for so long that you were starting to worry he had astral projected, leaving his corporeal form behind.
“Thank you,” he said after a full minute, with an unexpected clarity that you hadn’t heard from him earlier.
You nodded in response and he finally stepped outside, lingering as if tethered by a new string of hesitation, before finally letting the door close behind him.
When you joined your friends at the table they had picked, you interrupted their conversation about the atmosphere inside the club. Maggie was the first to notice your expression.
“Jesus,” she said. “What happened to you?”
“Jude’s here.”
Both girls looked at each other in dramatic disbelief—Maggie even gasped—and instinctively rose from their seats to crowd around you.
“What? Did you talk to him?” Luna questioned as Maggie pulled you deeper into the booth. The two of them scanned the bar as though Jude was still here, hiding somewhere.
“I—yeah,” you said. “But he left. I think I saw Sid outside.”
Their surprise morphed into complete horror. You gestured for them to sit down.
“But wait—fuck,” Luna said, standing straight. “We can go somewhere else.”
“No, I’m—if they come back, then yes,” you said. “But if they don’t, then let’s just stay here so we don’t run into them elsewhere.”
They looked around warily once more—just in case—before reluctantly settling down. Maggie took a seat next to you, while Luna sat down across the table.
This was when the girls began to fire every question they had, and you repeated the only answer you could offer.
“So, they’re in London,” Maggie said, tapping her nails against the table. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” you said.
“Does Jungkook know?”
“I have no idea.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea.”
Maggie reclined in her seat, deciding she’s had enough of this game.
“Well,” she said, “that’s great. I need a fucking drink.”
You hummed and brought your hand over the cocktail menu. Luna offered to make the first run to the bar, effectively changing the subject.
But shortly after, when she returned with a tray full of colourful, fruity drinks, you and Maggie were already back to discussing the details of your exchange with Jude—how unusual he seemed, and the awkward turn the conversation took.
“I think that’s enough of Sid and Jude,” Luna said, sitting down across from the two of you and handing out the drinks. “Different topic?”
“Oh, but hold on—while we’re on the topic of awkward conversations,” Maggie said, earning a quizzical look from you both. She ignored it. “Have you talked to that guy? That supervisor guy—you know the one.”
“Oh, Nick?” you asked, picking up your strawberry daiquiri and sliding Maggie’s tequila sunrise towards her. You accidentally nudged the cherry on the rim, causing it to fall into the drink. “Sorry—”
“It’s fine,” she said, deftly rescuing the cherry on its stem and popping it into her mouth.
“I haven’t talked to him yet,” you replied. “But I’m not working for Reconnaissance, that’s decided already.”
“Yeah?” Maggie smirked, punctuating her words with a purposefully seductive sip of her drink. “Anyone in particular help you with that decision?”
Despite her ambiguous question, you took a sip of your drink and felt yourself slowly relax. You were here with your friends. There was no harm to be done to either of you.
“Well, Jin did, actually,” you said. “We had a very productive conversation.”
“Hmm.” Maggie gave Luna a suggestive glance. “And no one else?”
You shrugged. “Yoongi and Namjoon—”
“Okay, you queen of evasion,” Maggie gave up, prompting Luna to giggle on the other side of the table as she absentmindedly stirred her Martini with the paper umbrella. “Are you getting back together with Jungkook or not? After everything that happened tonight?”
The way she said it—almost giving you options, even—was so simple that it made you wonder how much better things might have been between you and Jungkook if the two of you hadn’t been so obnoxiously determined to tiptoe around your feelings and had asked each other questions the way Maggie asked them.
“Well, my mum thinks we should get back together,” you said slowly.
“I care about what you think,” Maggie said—just like that. Luna nodded to herself, making a note to keep drinking until she, too, could start asking complicated questions in such an effortless way.
You finished your drink before speaking.
“I want to try,” you said. “But I’m—you know. I’m also scared that we’ll end up going around in circles, making the same mistakes.”
Maggie regarded you as if you’d dropped your hat in horse shit and put it straight back on.
“Babe, that’s a One Direction song,” she said.
You scoffed and looked down at your glass. “I know. My mum’s favourite, actually. But what I’m trying to say is, I’m scared.”
“Isn’t everyone?” she challenged. “But they still try.”
“They…” Your confidence waned as you realised you might have to talk about the complexities of your parents’ history once again tonight. You wanted to leave that discussion behind, so you finished simply, “they don’t have unsuccessful relationships left, right and centre to get inspiration from.”
“Excuse me?” Maggie arched her brows. “Rue and I have been together for three years—”
“Four,” Luna interjected.
“For four years,” Maggie corrected, “and we couldn’t be happier. Are we not successful?”
Feeling a bit like prey cornered by a very determined predator, you leaned against the back of the booth and cleared your throat. “Well, y-you are, but—”
“Luna and Taehyung!” Maggie continued, fired up. “They’ve been together for a whole year and—”
“Almost two, actually,” Luna said.
“Jesus!” Maggie threw her hands in the air. “I’m bad with dates, okay? Let me live.” She turned back to you as Luna grinned. Exhaling, Maggie continued in a more patient tone, “I mean, there are successful relationships around you. You just choose not to look at them.”
She was right about that, but it didn’t seem quite as simple or straightforward to you.
“Neither of you broke up and then got back together again, though,” you said.
Maggie was mid-syllable (a very frustrated “tha—”) when she realised that she couldn’t really argue. She quieted and frowned, finding her straw with her tongue and taking a long sip of her drink.
Luna took over. “Taehyung and I did, actually.”
Both you and Maggie looked up in surprise.
“What?” Maggie inquired first. “Seriously?”
“Well, it was only for two days,” Luna explained, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the edge of the table. “So, I’m not sure if it counts.”
“What happened?” you asked.
She dabbed her lips with the napkin, painting it a gentle shade of plum from her lipstick, and crumpled it.
“We were together for about eight or nine months at the time,” she said. “Rated Riot were on their first cross-country tour. Remember? It was a big deal, and the guys were stressed.” She paused to wait for your nod of confirmation. “We hadn’t seen each other in weeks. He called me one night and just—he said he couldn’t do this to me, that I deserved someone better, that he couldn’t—well, you know. The textbook ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ stuff.”
You and Maggie both nodded.
“How did you make up?” you asked.
“He flew in to see me on his day off and took back everything he’d said.” A faint smile played on her lips as she spoke, but she avoided looking at either of you—the story still felt a little too intimate, too raw to share. “He said he was confused and scared, that’s why he thought it’d be better to break up. But then he said he realised he was even more afraid of losing what we had, so he had to make it right.”
“I remember him flying out to see you,” you said. You remembered yelling at him, too, for leaving the tour right before a concert—but Taehyung usually only listened to Taehyung. “I didn’t know that it was because you broke up. I’m sorry.”
Luna finally looked up, waving her hand dismissively.
“Don’t be, it’s fine,” she said. “We made up. And the break-up barely lasted a few days, I didn’t even have a chance to tell you about it.”
Maggie was smiling as she reached for the brightest remaining cocktail on the table—a Cosmopolitan—and collected the empty glasses, putting them back on the tray. She handed you and Luna glasses of faint pink, peach-flavoured cocktails and settled back in her seat.
You nodded in gratitude and turned to Luna once more. “Were you scared? To take him back?”
“No. I…” she trailed off, searching for a better way to explain herself. Maggie, in the meantime, threw her head back and finished her drink. “I don’t know. I kind of—maybe it didn’t sink in that we had broken up? It was very sudden, we hadn’t seen each other in a while, and I knew his tour schedule. I knew we wouldn’t be seeing each other again anytime soon anyway. So, it didn’t feel like a break-up. I was—I think the whole time, I felt like he would come back eventually. Is that weird?”
“It’s romantic,” Maggie exhaled, resting her head on her palms on the table, a wistful haze in her eyes.
“You’re drooling, Mags,” you pointed out, grinning.
She ran her tongue over her lips, then waved her hand around lazily. “Let me.”
Chuckling, Luna passed her a napkin.
“I don’t think it’s weird, either,” you said. “But I—I guess I never felt that certainty. I didn’t think Jungkook would come back.”
“No? Not even when you found out you’d be managing his band?” Luna asked, her smile widening. “Because—listen—I distinctly remember you calling me after you got the offer to work with them, and you were all panicked, asking me if I knew who they were.”
“Oh.” You felt your own lips stretch into a smile. “I remember, too.”
In hindsight, that day had been absurd. You were offered the manager position for a band that you had never heard of, and during the first meeting with the HR representative at the label, you pretended very passionately that you were familiar with their music and the band members themselves. And the rep, in turn, pretended very passionately that he believed you.
“I don’t,” Maggie spoke up. “You didn’t tell me. What happened?”
“Well, she asked me if I knew them,” Luna recalled and you took a moment to sip your neglected drink, “and I said I’ve heard of them. I liked “Haunting,” one of their early songs.”
The mention of the song triggered the memory of Jungkook humming it to you in the bar in Oslo when he told you that he’d written it about you. This memory, in turn, brought back the conversation you’ve had with your mum. Your pulse sped up, and you finished your drink in a futile attempt to slow it down.
“So, she came over after her meeting, and I played her the music video,” Luna continued. “At that point, I didn’t know the names of anyone in the band. “Haunting” was the only song I’d heard. So, I played the video for her, and I was talking about how I thought the bassist was cute—”
“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t dating Taehyung yet!” Maggie interjected, raising her head with a sudden excitement.
Luna nodded. “Yeah. And then I noticed that she’s just kind of staring at the screen, completely in awe. I thought she liked the song, that’s why. So, I asked, “what did you think? It’s good, right?” and she just turned to me, and said in the most blank tone, “that’s Jungkook.””
Maggie’s mouth hung open as she glanced at you. “You didn’t know he was in a band? In that band?!”
You were counting the lines on the mahogany table and stayed quiet. Maggie gestured speechlessly for Luna to please, for the love of God, continue.
“I was confused, too,” Luna said. “I asked, “what do you mean? Your Jungkook?” and she just said, “yeah,” and went quiet again. Well, she also tried to insist he’s not her Jungkook, but I’m trying to give you the short version of the story. Anyway. I played the video again to check for myself. But he had long hair in it, sort of curly. He looked completely different from what I had pictured in my head based on the few things she’d told me.”
Maggie turned to you again. “And you never showed her what he looked like?!”
“I think I did,” you replied uneasily. You had met Luna shortly after your break-up with Jungkook, but you wanted to believe that your secrecy about your relationship wasn’t that bad.
It was—and Luna grinned as she shook her head.
“She didn’t,” she said, turning to Maggie again. “She made sure to delete every single picture they had together. I only saw him once, when she and I took her dog to the vet. She was explaining the dog’s weight loss to the doctor and had to find a picture for reference. The only photo she could find on such short notice was an old screenshot from Snapchat where Jungkook was the one holding the dog. But he had… like, a bowl cut back then? Not the dog, I mean. Jungkook,” she clarified, and all three of you snorted. “He looked cute, of course. But nothing like the guy in the music video, so I didn’t even think about him when I watched it.”
For some reason, hearing about this random picture hurt. It’s been so long and, obviously, you and Jungkook have been through a lot more together—some of which was far worse than an old picture you stumbled upon in your phone by accident—and still, it hurt.
It wasn’t the memory itself that was painful, but the parts of you that were still alive in it. The parts of you that deleted all the pictures, but kept the screenshots. Threw out all the dried flowers, but kept the matching jackets. Blocked all his profiles, but not his phone number.
And there was another keepsake that you couldn’t bring yourself to delete: a video from that fateful birthday party where Jungkook had drunkenly performed a Backstreet Boys song; one of your friends had recorded it on your phone. As soon as he finished the song, Jungkook—wielding a half-empty bottle—chased after you, threatening to bathe you in champagne if you didn’t delete the video right this instant.
You still had it. You still watched it sometimes.
And then, years later, he walked into your office for the first time, his stupid silver necklace catching the sunlight and blinding you as soon as you looked up—just as it would every day for months to come—and there he was. Existing in your life all over again.
And it felt, you thought in retrospect, like he had never truly left. Every absence of him that you tried to manufacture by deleting your shared pictures only served to accentuate the fact that he’d been here once upon a time, and now he wasn’t. It was like missing a tooth—like pulling it out by force—and then continuously running your tongue over the gap.
“So, how come you still had that screenshot?” Maggie asked, her question snapping your attention back to the present.
You cleared your throat in an attempt to mask the undertow of emotions threatening to surface.
“For my dog,” you said. “He looked very chunky in that picture.”
Maggie grinned. “And what did Jungkook look like?”
“He was…” you looked for an adequate word, did not find one, and finished weakly, “there.”
“Hmm, right,” Luna said, with an ambiguous smile on her face. You were afraid of what she’d say next. “My favourite part about it all, is that you chose to accept the job even after you found out Jungkook is in the band.”
“I personally think that’s beautiful,” Maggie, who found everything beautiful after two drinks, chimed in.
You wanted to disagree, to bring up the fact that this job was a great opportunity—it really was!—and that this was the only reason you’d accepted it. Consciously, at least. But the girls were determined to fully ambush you.
“What did you feel when you saw him again as his manager?” Luna asked, shuffling to the very edge of her seat.
“Nothing,” you said, already a little dizzy from the drinks and the intense attention from your friends. You remembered feeling chaos back then; messy, uncontrollable mayhem roaming in your mind. But, compared to your feelings now, it might as well have been nothing. “I knew we’d have to work together, so I—nothing.”
“Oh!” Maggie groaned. “You’re so full of shit.”
You weren’t prepared for the abrupt shift in her tone. “Wh—”
“Let me show you,” she said, forcing the clasp on her purse open to retrieve her phone.
“Show me what?” you asked, still confused and now a little concerned.
“I’ll show you!” she cried out before proceeding to mumble under her breath with intermittent shouts, “oh, how I’ll show you—like no one’s ever shown you anything! before—you won’t know what hit! you when I show you—”
“We get it, Maggie,” Luna interrupted, reaching out to touch Maggie’s wrist. “Get on with it, please.”
“I’m looking—here!” She tapped her screen. “Here, look at this.”
She pointed her phone at Luna, who looked at it and appeared ever more confused than you felt, even though you hadn’t even seen what was on it.
“What—who is that?” she asked.
“That’s her and Jungkook!” Maggie bellowed, sweeping her arm so far back to point at you that she nearly yanked out your earring. “Sitting in an empty bathtub, drinking champagne, and laughing!”
A rush of heat surged through you as Luna gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God!”
You leaned across the table to grab Maggie’s phone from her.
The picture was beautiful, which was the first thing that you noticed. It was black and white with melancholic shadows swirling in the periphery. It was taken, you realised, from the corridor outside the bathroom during Hoseok’s party in Amsterdam.
Your stomach dropped once more tonight, because, of course, this was the night that Jungkook had named his latest song after.
Your skin felt wrong all of a sudden, and everything inside of you wanted to come out. You gripped Maggie’s phone tighter.
In the picture, both you and Jungkook had your backs to the camera, only visible from the shoulders up because the bathtub concealed the rest. You were holding glasses of champagne.
Jungkook’s gaze, captured in the dimly lit frame, was fixed on you. His head was turned slightly, and if it weren’t for the bright smile on his face, you might not have known it was him; the photograph was too dark. You, on the other hand, had your head thrown back in laughter and blended seamlessly into an unrecognisable silhouette.
Your heart pounded against your ribs as you looked up from your friend’s phone. “When—how did you even take this?”
“You left the door open, you idiots,” Maggie replied.
“Let me see it again,” Luna asked, taking the phone from your shaking hands. “This looks like it could be an actual film poster for an indie romantic drama.”
“Titled,” Maggie added, “When In Bath…”
The two girls snickered, cracking each other up by nodding along to the joke until they were pounding their fists into the table in laughter. You wondered if this was the alcohol.
“Alright, alright,” you interrupted. “It—it’s a great picture. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means you’ve been in love with each other from the very beginning,” Maggie said, seizing the opportunity to play the role of a triumphant attorney, delivering a powerful closing statement in court. “And you can try to act like you haven’t been, like it all came as such a big shock, like you’d moved on, so, oh my God,” she gasped theatrically, “where are all these feelings coming from?!”
You groaned, but Maggie was undeterred, revelling in the dramatic momentum she had built.
“But this,” she lifted her phone as though in a poor production of The Lion King, “speaks louder than words. We know he’s loved you the whole time, your mum confirms it. But look at this. Look at how you’re leaning into him as you laugh. Look at how you’re touching his shoulder. You’ve loved him all along, too.”
Luna, definitely tipsy already, burst into energetic applause, and Maggie took a dramatic bow, her necklace clattering against the table. In her flourish, she nudged her empty cocktail glass with her shoulder, and you leaned over to catch it. A few people from nearby tables turned in your direction.
“So, you see,” Maggie continued before you could ask the two of them to take it easy, “all you’re doing is just making excuses.”
“Well. Here’s another one,” you said, sliding out of the booth. “I’m going to grab us some snacks.”
The girls groaned and made various comments about how they knew this would happen—but their complaints soon transformed into a list of drinks they wanted you to bring back. You smiled, grateful for their short attention span, and diligently noted down their orders on your phone.
And still, even as you walked away, your heart refused to rest.
Jungkook had been right when he said that you needed to talk to your mum. Really, you did. But it wasn’t just her words, her experiences, and her arbitrary decisions that convinced you that you should have listened to the beating in your chest when he was in the room with you.
It was your friends, too—the family you had found and did not even realise it. It was their patience, their courage, their certainty, and their belief.
You felt a lot more determined to see what would happen. A lot more daring to make it happen. And a lot more convinced that it would be okay, eventually.
As soon as you reached the bar, you immediately noticed the change in atmosphere. The club, initially laid-back, had completely transformed as the clock struck midnight. Groups of young people filled the space, hanging out by the bar, dancing, or just chatting loudly at their tables. It took you a while to navigate through the lively crowd and return to your table with your order.
When you did, the girls grabbed the cocktails as if they had never seen any sort of liquor in their lives. They downed them in several big gulps, and, amused by their enthusiasm, you joined in, too.
As the glasses—and the bowls of roasted pistachios—on the tray emptied, the rest of the night blurred into swirls of clapping, laughing, spinning around on the dancefloor, meeting Mick Jagger’s doppelganger, buying drinks, swapping shoes with each other, losing your jackets somewhere around the club, having a Macarena dance battle, buying more drinks, recording yourselves singing along to an Elton John song that had no business being played in a club, starting a very successful conga line (not to an Elton John song), and stealing someone’s pink feather boa.
It was a night.
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Jungkook had made plans with Minjun to distract himself from thoughts of you until tomorrow, and the two of them ended up doing very cultured things. But strolling around West End in the British drizzle wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as they had tried to convince themselves it’d be. Their enthusiasm about this excursion quickly faded, leading them to the nearest pub for a couple of drinks.
Several hours later, when they returned to the hotel, Jungkook didn’t see any light coming from under your door, indicating that you were still out with Luna and Maggie.
He wanted to text you the whole day, but he held back. Taehyung had told him to give you space; that was good advice. Jungkook only managed to follow it partly, but now that you were on proper speaking terms again, he didn’t want to ruin it by suffocating you.
He was bad at this, though.
He took a long shower and attempted to dry his hair, but the second his phone lit up with a text message, he dropped everything he was holding and executed a very intricate leap for the device—slamming his knee into the bedframe in his excitement.
Hissing in pain, he tumbled pitifully onto the carpet, turned on his back, fixed the towel around his waist, and hoisted himself with a grunt.
Droplets of water from his hair splattered on the screen as he unlocked his phone and momentarily confused the facial recognition. Cursing, he entered his passcode to check the sender and cursed once more when he saw that the text hadn’t come from you.
It was yet another message from the same unknown number, and Jungkook threw his phone back on the bed without bothering to read it.
He dried his hair first, then changed into sweats. It was then—while he was pulling his hoodie over his head—that the realisation struck him: unlike the previous texts from this same number, this one wasn’t fully capitalised.
Tentatively, he picked up his phone again and opened the one-sided conversation. He found that, throughout the evening, he’d received four messages from this number. The first contained a video attachment—the preview screen was black, and Jungkook did not want to click on it—followed by three taunting texts:
Remember this? :)
Come on, take a nice trip down memory lane with me, it’s a cute little clip
Do you think your manager would like to see this too? ❤️
He scrolled back up to the attachment and realised that his hands had begun to shake. Even though he had a feeling what he was going to see, he still clicked on the video and held his breath.
Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Although to be fair, his expectations might have been unrealistic. Unless Sid had resorted to secret cameras, which was extreme even for him, Jungkook had no reason to get this panicked.
But this video was still not good.
It was filmed in a nightclub and the scenes played out in short flashes under the flickering strobe lights, illuminating the dancing bodies around the person recording it. The camera panned to Jungkook and the two people he was dancing with—both dressed in dark leather jumpsuits.
Latex, he saw then. Not leather.
The dancing itself wasn’t the worst part of the video, but Jungkook struggled to decide what was. First, his heartbeat faltered as he watched one of his dance partners pour champagne into his mouth, licking off the excess that missed his lips. Then, he nearly blacked out as the video concluded with him on top of a table—dancing alone at first, and then with his tongue down someone else’s throat, and his hands—
He had a vague recollection of what happened next and stopped the video before he could see it.
It was clear that Sid had to be the one with the voyeuristic lens. Jungkook had gone clubbing with him that night; Jude was sick and Minjun didn’t want to go.
Two things happened then, and Jungkook was vividly aware of both. First, his phone froze: despite turning the video off, it continued to play the faint melody of an old Benny Benassi remix. And then a disconcerting acceleration seized his heart as though the video itself had seeped into his bloodstream.
Instinctively, he turned his phone off and tried to breathe. The hotel room around him fell into a pleasant silence, but that only made the thumping in his chest more pronounced.
Attempting to ease his rising nausea, Jungkook tried to keep his mind clear: the video had been filmed years ago. He wasn’t sure if he was in Rated Riot yet, but he was sure that the two of you were no longer together. Another helpful fact was that, since you became his manager, you have witnessed him in far worse situations—and rescued him from them, too.
And yet, he did not want you to see this.
He wanted to grow, to extricate himself from the clutches of toxic friendships, to find and build a future with you. And this video felt like a painful regression into his past. An embarrassing leap back.
Overwhelmed with discomfort, he chose to keep his phone off for the remainder of the night, even if that meant missing a text from you.
And then, later that night—or rather, in the early hours of the next day—Jungkook was jolted awake by a violent rattle of the doorknob.
Honestly, for an unsettling, half-asleep moment, he thought this was Sid barging in.
However, as his mind gradually woke up, he felt a more realistic concern: other bands had overzealous fans breaking into their hotel rooms. No one on the staff thought that Rated Riot were on a level where they’d need extra security measures, but now he worried that was a mistake.
Just to be safe—in case this was Sid, after all—Jungkook grabbed the nearest available weapon: a lamp from his bedside table. But the cable limited his reach, forcing him to crouch and lean forward to push the handle down and open the door before jumping back into a defensive position.
He nearly dropped the lamp when the door swung open, and he saw you outside.
It was your presence, in general, that he noticed first. Then it was your outfit: the short black satin dress with thin shoulder straps and thick, black tights with a curious embroidery around your thighs. Then it was your tied-back hair. Your dark eyeshadow and glistening lip gloss. A pink feather stuck to your earring.
He didn’t have it in him to move or to return the lamp to its place.
“Oh, shit,” you said, trying to make sense of the scene before you. You propped yourself against the doorframe. “My key wasn’t turning. I thought I left my room unlocked. What are you—wait. Wait, wait.”
You closed your eyes and squeezed the bridge of your nose with your right hand. Jungkook lowered the lamp to the floor, keeping his gaze on you.
“Okay, I’m good,” you decided. “The room was spinning really fast for a second there.” You chuckled, then stopped abruptly and narrowed your eyes at him. “Am I on the right floor?”
Jungkook blinked, then scoffed at the unexpected question.
“You are,” he confirmed, but, even drunk, you recognised the peculiar look on his face—as though there was something else he was waiting for you to realise.
“Shit.” Your eyes widened. You whispered, “I am still in London, right?”
This time, he couldn’t help a small laugh as he approached you. First, he plucked the feather out of your earring. Then, he led you into his room, his arm around your shoulders.
“You are,” he assured again. “You just got the wrong room.”
You exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank fuck.”
Amused, Jungkook directed you towards the bed, which was the only comfortable piece of furniture here. You plopped down on it, bouncing slightly from the force of your energetic descent.
“Can I sit down for a second?” you asked belatedly. “Fuck these shoes. They’re not even—not even mine.”
Jungkook glanced down at your feet. There was a black platform heel with an ankle strap on your left foot, and a burgundy counterpart on your right.
He lifted his eyes back to your face, very confused. “They’re—whose shoes are they?”
“The black one is Maggie’s,” you explained, reaching for the strap, but struggling because the bed was too soft, and the room spun too much. “The other one is Luna’s. We thought it would be funny.”
He bit his lip. It wasn’t the mismatched shoes that entertained him in particular—not while he was sober, at least—but rather your sense of humour when you were drunk.
“Lucky that they’re the same height,” he observed.
“No, no, no, no. We saw that they were, that is why.” You hiccupped and it veered you away from the topic at hand. “Anyway, it’s not funny anymore. Now it hurts.”
You finally reached the strap of the black heel, but could not figure out the intricate workings of the clasp on it. Jungkook lowered himself to his knees in front of you.
“Let me help you,” he said.
You shook your head, maintaining your grip on the strap as you felt his fingertips ghost over yours.
“I can do it,” you insisted, passionate about your independence even when you could not tell what city you were in.
“I’m sure you can,” he said, gracefully pulling your hand away from the shoe. “But let me do it anyway.”
You huffed—in fervent protest or in reluctant agreement, he wasn’t sure. After another half-sigh, half-groan, you moved your hand to your lap and dropped down on your back on his bed.
He smiled softly as he unbuckled the strap and slid the black heel off. As he did, he noticed that the embroidery on your tights was a thin row of roses—and it wrapped around your thigh.
He found that very interesting and looked away immediately.
“So, anyway,” he said, fighting with the strap on the other shoe. “What happened to drinking responsibly?”
You hiccupped again. “Famous last words.”
He chuckled, lifting your leg onto his knee to get a better look at the stubborn clasp. Your contented sigh was the only indication of you being aware that one of your shoes was already off.
“I spoke to my mum,” you announced without any sort of transition or buildup.
Jungkook tightened his grip on your ankle in uncontrollable surprise, forcing you to lift your head off the bed with a puzzled look.
“Oh,” he managed, releasing his hold. “Yeah?”
Another dreamy sigh passed your lips as your thoughts clouded with memories, then cleared in a blissful, inebriated ignorance once more.
“Yeah,” you said, lowering your head again. The mattress was hard, but it felt very nice. “And then to Luna and Maggie.”
“And, uh, what did they say?” he asked, finally pulling the shoe off.
He got up to place the heels in a corner by the nightstand, so you wouldn’t trip over them when—if?—you stood up.
“A lot of things,” you replied, your words floating somewhere on the edges of consciousness, leaving Jungkook to grapple with the unpredictability of your confessions.
“Okay,” he said. “Maybe we should talk about all of that tomorrow.”
A smile started to form on your lips, but it was swiftly interrupted by a yawn. “Ye—yeah. That’d be good.”
Trying to push Sid’s messages away from resurfacing in his mind at the mention of your upcoming conversation, Jungkook observed your futile attempt to sit up. Having been there before—fairly recently—he empathised with the challenge of keeping your head up when you were drunk.
“Are you sure you want to stand?” he asked as you wriggled on your back, stretching out your hands helplessly—sort of like a tipsy turtle that had tipped over on its shell.
It was dangerous, he realised, just how completely infatuated with you he was to still find this incredibly endearing.
“I must,” you declared with an angry determination. Your anger was largely fuelled by the strain in your neck, caused by your perplexing attempts to lift your head and your legs at the same time. “This isn’t my room.”
It could be, Jungkook thought, at least for tonight.
However, the right thing to do was to guide you back to your own room.
“Come on,” he said, taking your hand and settling beside you to wrap his other arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get you to your bed, then.”
“That would be—” you began, gasping when he abruptly pulled you to your feet and the entire room decided to flip upside down. “Oh—you know what? I’m not sure I’m enjoying this spinning much.”
He looked at you in alarm. “Are you going to be sick?”
“I would prefer not to.”
Jungkook pursed his lips to restrain his amusement.
“I don’t remember the last time I saw you this drunk,” he noted.
“Pity,” you mumbled, your eyes closed. You tried to move your lips as little as possible, convinced that this would help with the dizziness. “If you remembered, maybe you could make the spinning stop.”
He tried to take a step forward with you in his arms. “Can you walk? Or I can carry you.”
You opened your eyes and took a deep breath. Dizzy or not, this was now a matter of pride.
“I have—” You peered down as if to check and the carpet by his bed seemed to wobble. “I have legs. Of course, I can walk.”
The proclamation proved short-lived as you stumbled over the edge of the carpet almost immediately. Jungkook shook his head and tightened his hold on you.
“Alright, come here.” He lowered his hands to your midriff. “Ready? One, two—”
“No, no, no,” you protested, pressing your palms firmly against his hands. He felt the cold metal of your room key against his skin; you must have slipped the keyring onto your finger after you tried to use it on his door. “Either I walk, or I crawl. No carrying. Too much spinning as it is.”
He doubted if carrying you would really make your dizziness worse, but he relented nonetheless.
“Come on, then,” he said. “Hold onto me.”
You finally agreed, leaning against him with nearly your whole strength as you attempted to set one foot in front of the other. Your limbs felt wooden and numb.
“You know—it might’ve been nice if you came with us,” you said.
Jungkook felt his heart rate pick up again. You probably felt it too, since your body was pressed into his, but he trusted that alcohol had rendered you oblivious to everything outside of yourself, so he did not worry about it.
“Yeah?” he replied. “I don’t think I could have walked home in your heels, though.”
You laughed so heartily that he had to pause in front of the door before opening it, a cautious—and almost possessive—instinct to shield this moment from prying ears.
“No, no. I meant because it would have been nice,” you clarified meaningfully.
His smile was warm when he looked at you. “Yeah, you said that.”
Dazed, you turned your head to meet his gaze, inadvertently granting him an opportunity to lift you over the threshold as your attention on your feet wavered. “I did?”
“Mmhmm.” He continued to look at you—while holding you so close that you were starting to question how many drinks you’ve really had tonight—as he removed the keyring from your finger. You looked down, confused. You’d forgotten you were clutching your keys in your palm. “So why did you want me to come? Did you miss me that much?”
“Hmm,” you lifted your eyes and poked his cheek in a rare moment of bold affection, “I’m not drunk enough.”
He smiled again. Holding you to him—his grip around your waist was tenacious; not even the slippery satin of your dress posed a challenge—he managed to unlock your door and open it. He wondered if you remembered that your room was three steps away from his.
“Okay,” he said, walking you to your bed in complete darkness with impressive skill. Neither of you bumped into anything or tripped. “Let’s get you into bed until you’re not drunk at all. How does that sound?”
A nod was all you could muster.
Your eyes were barely open when you felt him gently lower you on the bed. Your body, of course, succumbed to gravity with a great eagerness and you dropped onto your back with a grunt the second he let go of you.
Face buried into the pillows, you mumbled, “ffank-oo.”
He deciphered that as an expression of gratitude and carefully rolled you onto your back by pulling the duvet from underneath you. You were still in your dress, but he didn’t dare to go as far as helping you change. You looked half-asleep anyway.
“I’m right there if you need me, okay?” he said, untangling the dark grey duvet and throwing it over you in one swift motion. “Behind the wall.”
Peering at him with half-closed eyes, you turned onto your side.
“I’ll knock,” you said as he tucked the duvet around you in a manner that felt almost familiar, almost routine.
“You do that,” he replied. “Goodn—”
“I think Sid’s in London.”
Your words sucked the air out of the room and locked his breath in his throat.
This sudden lack of filter—or any warning on your face that you were about to say something completely shocking—unnerved him. He had forgotten what a rollercoaster your intoxication could be.
“What?” he blurted out and shook his head. “No. No, that can’t be true.”
You shrugged one of your shoulders against the pillow. Your eyes were still closed.
“I talked to Jude,” you said. “And he said he wasn’t there alone.”
Jungkook turned a few shades paler—a few more and he might have become completely transparent.
“You talked to Jude?” he repeated. “A-about what?”
“Nothing much,” you said. Irony flashed briefly across your features when you opened your eyes. “Just if I’d like to do ecstasy with them. They mix it with speed. And then they fly.”
The surprise on Jungkook’s face was loud. He could not fathom that Jude—of all people—would invite you—of all people!—to do this with them, when you never even drank sparkling water if Sid was in the room.
“Ecstasy?” he repeated.
“MDMA,” you clarified helpfully.
“No—I know what—he—what did you say?”
Your gaze met his for a moment, and the look on your face suddenly appeared very sober.
“I obviously agreed,” you said, “and a beautiful pink unicorn took me back to the hotel.”
He gave you a look and you closed your eyes again, smirking.
“I told him no,” you said. “Or something to that effect.”
Jungkook finally exhaled.
“Okay,” he murmured, glancing at the door of your room. “That—that’s good. I-I’ll take care of it.”
Your eyes flew open, alarm creeping onto your tired expression.
“No,” you said—the steel in your tone made him turn back to you. “Don’t—leave them be.”
“But they’re—”
He stopped when you reached out from under the duvet to put your hand over his outstretched wrist. He hadn’t even realised he was gesticulating—too lost in his sudden panic—but your touch grounded him right away.
“I don’t care,” you reiterated, your words slightly slurred but very firm, a bit like you were talking in your sleep—saving him in the midst of a nightmare that you didn’t realise you were having. “I don’t want you near them.”
“Okay,” he said easily. And again, “okay.”
You watched him for another few seconds, silently witnessing the storm of thoughts behind his eyes. But your own heavy eyelids soon overpowered the few semi-sober areas of your brain.
As you settled back against your pillow and let go of his hand, Jungkook grew even more aware of the texts—and the video—that Sid had sent him.
“Go to sleep,” you mumbled as if sensing his apprehension.
“I will,” he said. Your lips parted as you breathed slowly and he could tell that you’ve told him all that you could manage tonight.
“Thank you for helping me,” you added quietly.
“No problem. That’s what friends do, right?”
You snickered softly and a hazy memory of all that you did as friends rose to the surface of your drunken, tired mind.
“Hmmm.” You buried your face in the pillow, whispering wearily, “I want to kiss you. But I’m so drunk.”
Oh, he realised, breathless. So, that wasn’t all that you could manage to tell him tonight, after all.
Inhaling sharply, he sat down on the edge of your bed because he didn’t trust his legs anymore.
Your intoxication, he thought, should have come with a warning: not suitable for young children and those with faint hearts.
“You—you are,” he said. “You’re really drunk.”
“Tomorrow,” you promised.
Jungkook realised that merely sitting might not be enough to prevent his head from floating away from his body as he gripped your mattress tighter.
“Oh,” he said.
A hint of concern flickered in your drunken mind, and you lifted your heavy head. “Okay?”
“Ye—okay. Of course,” he said, rising to his feet so you wouldn’t strain to look at him. The room seemed to sway, and he wondered if your intoxication was contagious. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
His next actions were reflexive as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead before drawing the duvet up to your chest. You hummed in content and Jungkook had to turn away, frightened by his own elated expression in the reflection of your hotel room window.
Over the years, you had been the one taking care of him—almost all the time. He couldn’t even remember a lot of the times when you found him, completely wasted, and helped him get back to his hotel room. Or to the bedroom in his family’s house. But even though the details of those nights were blurred in his memory, he remembered every morning – when he woke up tucked in his bed, and the faint scent of your apple shampoo still lingered in his room.
He wondered, as he paused in the doorway, turning to look at you over his shoulder, if you’d remember much from this night.
For a minute, he watched the gentle rhythm of your chest rising and falling as you drifted into sleep, and he was alive with the realisation that the two of you finally had something that he thought you’d lost forever.
You had tomorrow.
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chapter title credits: sleep token, “euclid”
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